HickWorld revisited

Supposedly the Iowa State Fair is world famous, or at least nationally known. It is a celebration of everything Iowan, and for a week in late August thousands come to swelter in the heat and humidity and eat fried turkey, Twinkies, Oreos, and god knows what else on a stick. Big-name musicians play, there are rides, everyone has fun. It's a family event.

Except that it's all a load of shit.

As an Iowan I have been to the Fair many times. It's a yearly ritual, packing everyone into a vehicle, rain or shine, and driving out to wander about, eat too-expensive beyond-junk food, and wonder what the hell we're doing here when we could be sitting at home in air-conditioning.

I didn't think you could successfully combine rampant commercialism and rednecks, but it turns out you can, and the Fair does it quite well. At least half of the fairgrounds, if not more, are dedicated to vendors showing off whatever they have to sell. Rows of tractors, combines, feed troughs, grain sorters, etc. are ubiquitous, visible from nearly anywhere despite the densely packed food stalls, which take up most of the remaining half of the grounds. Cramped into the space left are the exhibition buildings, the most famous of which is the Varied Industries building, which is . . . full of vendors showing off whatever they have to sell. This is always one of our first stops, flowing with the masses along a red carpet path laid on the concrete floor and gawking at hot tubs, lawn mowers, state universities, churches offering to tell us why evolution is wrong, banks, and this year representatives of both political parties.

The other structures include the Agriculture Building, which displays the (in)famous "Butter Cow" (exactly what it suggests), and the Cultural Building, which contains drawings, paintings, beadings, etc. of Iowa artists. They're actually not to bad, though the Agriculture building is not my cup of tea. There are also the stables, or whatever they're called, housing all the animals at the Fair to be judged -- who has the best pig? is always one question I'm burning to answer. Okay, again, there's nothing really wrong with pride in your animals -- what else do farmers have to be proud of? -- but also not my cup of tea. Better than the Varied Industries building, if smellier.

Worst, though, are the people. All the stereotypes of Iowans that I hate -- we're redneck farmers with bad hygiene, poor grammar, so on and so far -- are proved true at the Fair. But beyond the rednecks, which probably comprise a little over half of Fairgoers, the rest of the population is equally if not more disturbing. Lots and lots of fat people with their fat children -- don't tell me it's genetics when they're chowing down on a fried turkey leg as thick as my fist. People leading their kids around on leashes -- tied around their waists rather than their necks, thank god. People smoking and drinking like it's the last chance they'll have to make fools of themselves and give themselves cancer. Etc.

Staying within my own select territory, I don't often see the real face of Iowa. I can fool myself into thinking that we are better than they say we are. I can forget the reality I've always known, seen many times in my own family (god, some of my uncles . . .). But the Fair makes me remember. It's disgusting and horrifying and terrifying and I hope I never go back, even if I appreciate the perspective it gives me. After all, though I see we're bad I don't think we're worse than anyone else. I've seen enough to also know the truth of Sturgeon's Law.