An Iowa Tradition, like it or not.

Dear 27,
Years ago I wrote about my fair love. Which has wained over the years, big time, but most of what I said is true. In honor of the first day of this beloved Iowa tradition, let me quote myself (because that's not narcissistic at all):



"As the Iowa State Fair rolled into town last Thursday; the excitement was literally palpable, and so was the heat. As I think about my minor obsession with all things fair, let me pause here for a small Laura explanation: For the few of you who read this and know me...you may be thinking, "Laura and the state fair?"

This is a question I have pondered for three years my friends.

I love the smell of crisp cotton shirts floating on dark wooden hangers, soft wool trousers sashaying seductively on the rack, and leather handbags regally draped across entire department store walls. The melodious hum of the escalator soothes my aching soles and soul. The sweet high of bargin hunting, the thrill of the dressing room victory (in with eight, out with at least two purchases) and shoes truly make my mouth water.

After describing my refined taste, you may be surprised to learn that I desperately crave the glow of the midway as the tilt-a-whirl screetches round it's axis. I love the way your ankles sweat as you walk in and out of the rows of people without shirts, sporting sculpted mullets and portrait tatoos. I gauk at the vivid primary colors of the sky ride and it's riders as it traverses overhead from one fair end to the next, shoes, bags and tank tops hanging out of the steel basket. I savor the taste of grease on my lips after eating a corn dog, cheese curds and deep fried oreos. I come home with bags full of propagandic magnets for hospitals, political candidates, and lawn care businesses, posters for every Iowa college sport and smearing spin-arts. I climb gleefully up the stairs of a tractor with a wheel diameter taller than me, get my photo snapped seated in the driver's chair and quickly move to do so in the combine. I have, unconsciously, become a fair lover.

Don't get me wrong...I still complain about the heat, mock those wearing fanny packs too large to be called one and despise the smell of the sheep barn. I obviously prefer the Gap to the 4-H building, but I love the Iowa State Fair."

Today marks another awesome day, an anniversary of sorts in a parking garage that made Des Moines come alive and me remember how to live. Gooooo August. And thank you friend.

xo-LP

ps- Check out the NEW blog space: http://xo-lp.com/blog (you'll like it.)