By MaryAnne Andersen
Cedar City Arts Council
It isn’t just about the corn. I mean the corn is wonderful; we bought a sack for $5 that was supposed to contain a baker’s dozen. It actually had 15 ears in it. And in the same roadside stop we bought peaches and watermelon from Hurricane. It was the thought of all that good produce that probably got us to the Enterprise Cornfest in the first place. But there is so much more to enjoy in those little town fairs.
The people are always the joy of such things, for me. I love to see the children: two little boys being pulled in a wagon as they looked around with wide eyes, trying to take in sights they had probably never seen before; two other boys walking across the grass, the bigger holding tightly to the hand of the small one, told, no doubt, to keep track of his brother. I love little girls in fancy makeup and sparkly dresses, waiting for their turns to dance on the center stage. Children were flinging themselves at the inflatable jump toys or trying to climb the rock wall. I am touched at the patience and acquiescence of parents that allow such indulgences as cotton candy (gag) at 10:30 in the morning.
Then there are the men and women, often at the other end of the age spectrum, sitting by their lovingly-restored vintage cars. I congratulated one old codger—my age—for leaving the original bench front seat in his 1956 Chevy. “How do girls these days move over and sit next to their boyfriends?”, I lamented. “Yup. One sharp left turn and they just slid right over”, he answered. Others stood with the eternal cleaning rags in their hands, rubbing at spots in the paint that were invisible to the unloving eye. Folks with such consuming passions are healthy and happy, indeed. They will live to be 100.
My friend Susie Prince was there with her handmade jewelry and jelly. She is at all the small fairs, with lots of stuff for display that must take her hours to set up and dismantle. I want to say, “Surely you don’t make enough money to justify such hard work”, but I know that is probably not the point. She loves her creative work, and if she makes a little bit as evidence of appreciation from others, bonus. And she and I can spend a good bit of time comparing our arthritic aches and pains, as my husband resignedly heads for a place in the shade. A friend who shares your misery—-worth the trip, not to mention her raspberry jalapeño jelly.
Several booths were occupied by our new Fundamentalist neighbors, eager to show their mostly sewing skills. I have enough aprons and bags, thank you, but they were pleasant to talk to.
The woodworkers remind me of my dad; the bakers remind me of my mom—-not!
A final pass by the Kettle Corn guys, pick up our corn, and we were done till next year.