Topsfield Fair

Daddy Wasn't There

Fun Day ! We got up early, Cathy had the Austin Powers song Daddy Wasn't There (to take me to the fair...) going through her head - we were getting ready to do something for the very first time - we were going to the Topsfield Fair.

Not the kind of thing we'd normally do, but a friend wanted to go, it was a beautiful fall day, and we decided to go with the flow and investigate a side of massachusetts we'd not experienced before. If nothing else it would be a chance to get outside and get some fresh air and take photographs. And of course it was a historical field trip as the Topsfield Fair is the oldest in the country.

What began as the Essex Agricultural Society Cattle Show with its annual exhibits/fairs held in various sites around Essex County to showcase agriculture, Topsfield Fair has been held annually at its existing location since 1910. It is fitting that the fair eventually settled in Topsfield, for it was at the town's former Cyrus Cummings Tavern that twenty or more men first gathered that February in 1818 to form what soon became the Essex Agricultural Society.

It turned out to be a fun day. Even though we did not participate [i.e. spend money above admission] in a lot of the offerings, there was a lot to see and do. Many events having to do with vegetables, arrangements, various sculptures, and contests for best specimens - including, of course, the biggest pumpkin. Lots of animals to be seen as well, my favorites were the Budweiser Clydesdales and the sporting birds of prey, the Peregrine Falcon and other various species.

There were rides, and LOTS and LOTS of FRIED food ! We opted for the healthier baked potato lunch. And then there was the highlight of the day ! As I separated from my companions, taking "the road less traveled", my reward for such adventure was finding the "SMALLEST HORSE" exhibit !


Upon reconnecting with my spouse and friend they were more than disappointed to hear they missed such a rare viewing opportunity, especially when they heard I did not pay the requisite $1.00 admission (Buffalo Bill there was on his cell phone and neglected to see me wandering nonchalantly through - I didn't actually see the admission sign till I exited the exhibit, but once in I sort of figured I was an interloper). I was expecting some sort of 'wild west' challenge, but managed to lope away without incident.

So, an unexpectedly fun outing for us all, and we managed to get through the day without stepping in anything we wouldn't want to bring home with us !

An Early Mentor

I was around 10 years old and rather naive. My father owned a delicatesson on the main square in a suburb of Cincinnati, Ohio. A few doors down from the delicatesson was a movie theatre and my father was friends with the manager, Mr. Corbus, a tall, mustached, balding man of 50 or 60. I remember some of the movie titles appearing on the marqee. To Hell and Back, East Of Eden, Rebel Without A Cause, Giant, The King And I, Jailhouse Rock. From time to time, we would get free passes to the movies, or get to visit in the manager's office above the theatre with its own view window into the theatre, or get to see the projection booth. It was like getting to see the man behind the curtain - darkest mysteries revealed.

At some point during this period I obtained an autograph book, probably from my father, for the purpose of getting the autographs of Cincinnati Reds players we met during a catering delivery to one of their houses. Whether it was a Cub Scout project, or just a sudden whim, the book was now available and one of the next times we were in Mr. Corbus's company I asked him if he would sign my autograph book. Obligingly, he took the book, penned his offering, and handed its proud recipient the resultant entry. Since I was not aware of the tradition of offering a dedication or commentary as part of the signing ritual my reaction was understandably curious when, book in hand, I read the following inscription.





My admiration of this dubious event, and its spontaneous brilliance, were lost on a ten year old boy struggling to come to terms with the larger much less subtle issues of youth. I remember questioning, but not understanding whatever explanation, if any, was offered and life went on - and on. In fact I haven't really thought of that incident or placed any importance to it until recently. The delicatesson, the autograph book, Mr. Corbus, my parents, all gone, yet so many years later the experience and its significance comes roaring down the track like an old freight train with overdue cargo.

We are, at times, given gifts of undeterminable value we may not deserve for reasons we may never know. That's one of life's glorious mysteries. If we're lucky, we stumble across them from time to time. I'm sure if there is another dimension with an awareness of ours, Mr. Corbus would appreciate that his clever timeless riddle, though still not fully decoded, has at least been recognized for its appreciating value.

Who knows how many other gems are out there ? Let's hope that while humankind continues its quest for life's greatest answers we don't overlook the gems beneath our feet.

Thank you Mr. Corbus - you are indeed !

A Fine Example

An Eye Spared Improves Sight

We should all take a moment and reflect on the quiet and humble courage displayed by the Amish community in reaction to the horrible tragedy they have suffered. A community based on thoughtful actions and compassion maintains its faith, moral character and dignity.

When asked "Can an outsider join the Amish church/community?" "A local Amishman recently remarked,

"You do not need to move here to adopt a lifestyle of simplicity and discipleship. (http://www.800padutch.com/atafaq.shtml).