Published: July 28, 2007 11:47 pm            

The Neshoba County Fair ... nothing compares

Everyone who experiences the Neshoba County Fair usually comes away saying one of two things: “There’s something so special about the fair,” or “that was miserable and I will never go back.”

OK, so maybe there are some variations, but you get the picture. Usually people either love it or hate it.

I must admit I probably once fell into the category of not liking the fair. Growing up here, the fair was something that everyone talked about. And one serious character flaw I have: if something is popular, I tend to try and find all of the reasons not to like it.

I went to the fair trying to find fault. And if you go in with that mindset, you’re almost guaranteed to find it because it’s certainly there.

But this year, I decided I would go with an open mind. I also decided I would try to experience more of the fair.

I started out with the political speeches on Wednesday. By 11 a.m., my shirt was already soaked with sweat, but I didn’t let that bother me. I listened to the candidates for lieutenant governor speak and I observed the crowd. People were actually paying attention. People were engaged in what the candidates had to say.

People stood in the sawdust-covered ground waving their handheld political fans. Some supporters held signs and others wore their favorite candidate’s t-shirts. Imagine the passion of a college football game but the game is state politics. And the division is just as strong as a pre-game Egg Bowl tailgate (OK, maybe not that strong, but close).

Meridian Day, a chance for Meridian residents to showcase their city to fairgoers, followed the speeches. It was great to see all of the familiar faces and I enjoyed catching up with old friends. I also got to stand around and talk to some of the candidates for statewide office in a more personal setting. Trust me, there’s a big difference talking to a candidate in shorts and a t-shirt under the shade of an oak tree rather than a suit and tie in the office.

As the day progressed, the best part of the fair set in: relaxing on the front porch and eating good food. I was fortunate to stay at the cabin of Sid Salter on Founders Square. My buddy Brandon Pratt, Salter’s nephew, invited me to stay there after another family wasn’t able to make it. I was fortunate. People have told me that you can’t truly experience the fair unless you stay at a cabin — and they were right.

Sid’s wife, Leilani, knows how to prepare a meal. And more importantly, she epitomizes southern hospitality. I immediately felt welcomed into their cabin. As soon as I walked in, she said, “Grab a plate and get something to eat.” She also made it a point to introduce me to anyone who walked in the door so that I wouldn’t feel like a stranger. Within a matter of minutes I felt at home (and the smoked ham was great, too).

Later that night, my buddies and I sat on the front porch and talked. Then, we decided to play a little fair frisbee: a game we made up where you throw the frisbee back and forth, weaving in and out of the crowds of people who walk by, barely missing them on many instances. Each person tries to one-up each other with a better catch or trick. Think of a tailgate with a frisbee instead of a football. It’s a guy thing.

After our game we headed to the Trace Adkins concert, which was less than 100 yards from our cabin. We had great seats, thanks to Brice Richardson’s success at the chair race earlier in the day. This is, according to what Pratt told me, a race hours before the show where you run with chairs in your hand and see who can get closest to the stage and set up their lawn chairs. Sounds dangerous. I was told Brice knocked over a few toddlers (hopefully he was exaggerating and they were at least 12) to get us seats close to the stage.

I’m not a big Trace Adkins fan, but the concert was a blast. Who doesn’t love playing air guitar while standing in red mud singing, “Honky Tonk Badonkadonk”?

All of that was fun, but the absolute best part of the fair, for me, came during the gubernatorial speeches on Thursday morning. There were about 2,500 people gathered around the pavilion at Founders Square.

The scene was reminiscent of an old Baptist tent revival, complete with the wooden pews, spirited speeches, a sea of hand-held fans waving, random shouts of praise, and plenty of sweet tea for thousands.

But something quickly altered that scene: a zinger from Gov. Barbour that could land in Mississippi political speech history. OK, maybe that’s a bit over-the-top. But it was entertaining.

I was told Gov. Haley Barbour was a bit perturbed heading into the fair speech because his Democratic opponent, John Arthur Eaves Jr., had reportedly told supporters that his wife would restore dignity to the governor’s mansion. It must have made him pretty mad, because Barbour came out swinging.

At the beginning of his speech, Barbour brought his wife, Marsha, on stage and thanked her for their 35 years of marriage.

Then came the line:

“That’s right, I got my trophy wife the first time,” Barbour said, an obvious jab at his opponent, Eaves, who remarried about a year ago.

The zinger had a ripple effect. There was the wave of initial, “oohs” followed by another round of “oohs” and “aahs.” And then there were people explaining the one-liner to those who didn’t get it — which was particularly funny to watch. Then, Barbour’s supporters began chanting, “Marsha, Marsha, Marsha.”

It was an instant classic and a moment I will likely remember for a long time. Some may call it dirty politics, which at any other venue may be true. But for the Neshoba County Fair, it just felt appropriate.

I must say that my fair experience was a memorable one. I can’t wait for next year.



E-mail Editor Fredie Carmichael at fcarmichael@themeridianstar.com.

        

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