County Fair Evokes Nostalgic Memories
Fair Week — two simple words that stir something in my soul difficult to explain. As a kid, the Fairfield County Fair was like Christmas in October. It is just impossible for me to approach Fair Week without waxing nostalgic. The dictionary says nostalgia is “sentimental longing or wistful affection for the past, typically for a period or place with happy personal associations.”
Huh ... that perfectly describes my childhood memories of the Fairfield County Fair. It’s amazing how certain words or a simple aroma can transport one from their present reality into a parallel dimension. The late Yogi Berra’s famous quip, “It’s like déjà vu all over again” is so fitting here.
However, memory experts tell us that our memories are never as accurate as we might imagine. As it turns out, we simply don’t store away details as precisely as we believe. And then, each time we push replay on a memory, it’s as though we are reliving it again and the file we return to our memory after our recall instance is actually a completely new take on our former memory with many details having been added and subtracted.
The same memory experts further purport that when we recall something “nostalgically,” we alter the details in even greater ways — placing our own Mayberry-ish spin on reality. (Malcolm Gladwell — David and Goliath)
Apparently, like the old party game in which someone at the beginning of the line makes a simple statement and by the time it reaches the end of the line it’s morphed into something entirely different, our precious memories are in reality, highly edited versions of the truth.
Accurate or not, I enjoy the escape nostalgia provides. I welcome the sights, sounds and aromas of the fair that whisk me off to a happy place. Something as simple as the whiff of a freshly-lit cigarette kidnaps me — and in a flash, I’m a kid smiling up at my father with his ubiquitous cigarette teetering from the edge of his returning smile.
I’m grateful as I approach this fair, my 66th Fairfield County Fair; grateful for the sirens song evoked by the aromatic cocktail of French fries, waffles, cotton candy and Italian sausages.
However, I’d be less than honest if I didn’t confess the reality of it all is slightly less romantic than the nostalgia it evokes. I’ve discovered that my energy before the fair comes out of nostalgic memories, but when the last light dims and the last amusement ride folds away, the most important things aren’t the sights and sounds, but rather the people—the renewed acquaintances.
I’m grateful to live in a community that remembers and honors our roots and our God. David speaks for us all when he urges, “Just remember GOD is a blessing—now and tomorrow and always.” Psalm 113:2 MSG
Our county fair is a celebration of all things rural, homey and wholesome. From the kids sleeping in the barns and stables, to the arts and crafts displayed by friends and family, I’m grateful to live in a community that stops everything once a year and proudly declares, “We remember our rural heritage.”
Ron Grubb loves to tell life stories and apply God’s truth as he leads the Lancaster School of Ministry and pastors at Life Church, four miles north of Lancaster on Ohio 37. Ron welcomes your thoughts at ron@lifechurchohio.com.