By Stan Lerner

There was something in the air, something that I feel compelled to share, I’m speaking now of the County Fair.

You see I am a man of middle age, seemingly past the County Fair stage, but I did not grow up doing such things, my perspective is that of one raised in the city, dirty, grey and all too gritty.

A memorable line, a hook, I should put one here, so people do hear, what I’m about to say, funny how things work this way:

The wind blows the wheat fields, causing a gentle motion, as beautiful a sight as any ocean.

Back and forth, to and fro, stand at the break and watch it grow.

And it is in this land that you will find Cowley County, a place much blessed with beautiful bounty.

Did I just learn that there was something called a County Fair? Why would it take a half of a lifetime to get to one? But who doesn’t have things undone?

Maybe this is why my father said he believed in keeping life small, because from this place there’s nowhere to fall.

A year gone by now, I moved from a big place, to a small place, at least that’s how it appears on the matter’s face.

But I’ve learned in the last year that big is small, this is not discovered in a crystal ball—but by living life.

And the small life, the real life, the good life, well it turned out to be larger than I could have ever conceived, it is this life that the Lord is more easily perceived. The quiet, the calm allows one to contemplate Gd.

The Ranch Rodeo, night one, who would have thought that wild cow milking was fun? Three cowboys, one cow on the run, and a bottle to fill, fifteen seconds and team Buford was king of the hill.

Night two, the Demolition Derby, the definition of fun going topsy-turvy!

The roar of engines, the roar of the crowd, 5,4,3,2,1, they counted aloud and the sound of the smash, one must be there to hear, because you will pump your fist and let out a cheer—I don’t know why, but you will.

The third night came, it was time to race Figure Eight, my friends told me, “If you liked the Derby, you’ll think that this one is great!”

Again, the roar of the engines, ten thousand in the crowd, believe me when I tell you that this race was loud.

I watched and cheered, my friends were right, but the rollovers in Heat Two were the thrill of the night.

One car actually rolled over and landed upright, then kept on going, what a delight, but who would have thought this to be so…

The last night, just a good old-fashioned Rodeo, hop on that bull and off you go.

When these festivities were done, I ordered some corn on the cob and contemplated this fun.

With Brooke on the bench to my right and six-year-old Sage between us, we all sat and ate that delicious corn and I realized that the boy inside of me, had finally been born—it just came late for me.

And I have to say, the feeling, this feeling, it’s a really good one, so next year come to the Fair and have fun.







Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *