August 29 - September 4, 1996 / Volume V, No. 35
Every year at the Press, we anticipate the dreaded state fair fax - a massive document that eats enough fax paper to wallpaper our office twice over. Filled with information on the bands, vegetable growers, special events and everything else, the overwhelming document usually ends up largely unread on a shelf - a monument to our laziness in the face of too much information. Reminded of how tobacco companies respond to hostile requests for information, I briefly suspected the fair must be up to no good.
Yet after being on the scene for a short time, I quickly dismiss the concept. The fair is of crucial importance to Alaska's present and future - a shining example of the achievements we've made, and an opportunity to improve our techniques and understanding for the years to come.
Take the vegetable exhibit. You never see veggies this intense at the grocery store, but the fair provides the incentive and the know-how for contestants to pull it off - paving the way for others to follow suit. Where winning cabbages once weighed under 25 pounds, today most growers predict a 100-pounder within a few years. Like ever-shorter winning Iditarod times, the fair provides the competition, practice and networking potential to steadily improve our way of doing things.
Veggies are just the beginning. Animal breeding and handling, monster truck driving, concession stand operations and political platforms are all tested and honed in this venue. The fair is much more than a good time - it's technological progress in action.
With that in mind, let's look at just a few of the achievements of this year's fair. In the political camp, the guy with the crazy ideas about Alaska statehood successfully drew a large crowd with his offering of $1,000 for Tony Knowles' notarized signature. "Once he signs it," he said, "he's committed treason!" The contention that the state of Alaska comprises only about 2% of the territory's landmass generated some strong booth-side arguments, and about 20,000 pages of shady "proof." A fine addition to the existing plethora of Alaskan secession plans.
The fair has consistently attempted a cutting-edge strategy to music booking, and this year's Lee Ann Rimes, The Guess Who and Pele Juju were no exception. But this year's security team came up with a truly hardcore idea - the Press was not allowed past the crowd to photograph the Rimes show. Following lower 48 trends, the fair this year put security ahead of freedom and public relations. Let's hope this is one innovation that doesn't creep into Alaskan society in general.
The heart-stopping rumble of the Bud Bog monster truck event outside the farm exhibits had my attention, but my heart was stolen by the 4H club. Their unflagging contributions to animal breeding and handling are world-famous and highly successful. And though I have no idea what distinguishes a blue-ribbon bunny from your average loser rabbit, I have a feeling that breeders and animal dealers worldwide are concerned with such things. And anyone who can get away with selling an Alpaca for over $10,000-$18,000 has to be doing something right.
One of the highlights of the animal exhibit was the Master Showman competition, where contestants compete for who can best show the widest variety of farm animals including a pig, goat, dairy cow, meat cow, steer and lamb. Though the event still retains the vestigial "man" in its name, this crucial competition is part and parcel of learning to successfully market your animals at auction. I had the pleasure of speaking with animal judge Dwayne Lapinski after the competition.
Brought up from New York for the sole purpose of judging animals in the fair, Lapinski combined a tweed suit, ten gallon hat, bolo tie and brown wing tips with a comfortable joviality. It doesn't matter if the animal pees, he says, but let it pull you around the corral and you've got a problem. Probably half the contestants had a problem, but a polite audience of about 50 kept their amusement private.
"I'm really impressed with the Alaska State Fair," he said. "They bring a diverse group of professionals from all over the country to participate, and ensure a lot of great ideas for Alaskans who raise animals."
So it goes with music, monster trucks, dancing, wildcrafting (berries and mushrooms), beekeeping, and everything else at the fair. Good information, good people, and the steady rumble of cultural evolution in action are the draw. And if the shoulder-to-shoulder crowds in the restrooms are any indication of success, this year's fair truly found it. As much university as it is farm, as redneck as it is greenie, the fair brings us together and pushes us forward.
The Alaska State Fair runs through Labor Day. Attendance in the first five days reached 106,666.