

When the three of us piled in the minivan on Friday morning, we headed to the Great New York State Fair. Six years had passed between treks to Syracuse for Mary and me; for our friend Michelle it had been 36.
We weren’t traveling to see the butter sculpture, hold our noses in the livestock barns, or watch Hilby the Skinny German Juggle Boy perform on his unicyle. We were renewing a friendship that had spanned 37 years through two newspapers, three children and two grandchildren, a lost husband, cross-country moves from Los Angeles to the New Hampshire woods, and countless laughs, as if Kevin Hart and his motormouth claimed to be 6-3, 215 pounds.
The humor was the byproduct of three dear friends – all former newsroom wags – reuniting to tell old stories, blurt the funniest, most sarcastic lines, and poke fun at people, politics and ourselves. We succeeded on all counts.
The laughter was as plentiful as the sights, sounds and people watching at The Fair. I came expecting to see a pregnant woman wearing a T-shirt with giant arrow pointing south to the words “Under Construction,’’ or the fat guy with the massive, extended stomach barely covered by a muscle short emblazoned with “I Beat Anorexia.’’

We never found those. Instead, we were treated to a sea of tattooes, distressed jeans, and a kid sweating in a hoodie on a 75-degree day but trying to act cool. There was blazing red hair, purple hair and bleached-blonde hair. There was cellulite bulging under crop tops that probably should have been covered. There was the woman with a rose tattoo rising from her cleavage. There was a fellow waiting to perform in Haudenosaunee authentic garb whose Boston Red Sox cap didn’t seem to fit. Hollywood inspired the inescapable sign of the times – women dressed in Barbie pink outfits.
“I haven’t been here since Wang Chung opened for Tina Turner in 1987,’’ said our guest, Michelle O’Donnell. She had the night off from the metro desk at the Democrat and Chronicle, Rochester’s morning newspaper. Turner was the hottest solo act on the planet after her mega-hit album Private Dancer while Wang Chung was riding the success of “Everybody Have Fun Tonight.”
“I’ll never forget we were sitting next to a group of state troopers and this guy pulls out a joint the size of a cigar. It was the world’s largest doobie. He was gonna light it up and I said, ‘You don’t want to do that. Look around.’ And it took a while before he realized and said ‘Ooooohhh!’ ”
Mary’s idea of getting high was riding on the Skyliner with “Shelley,’’ who had bolted from Rochester to the Los Angeles Times in the early 1990s.

“I still love riding above everything,’’ Mary said. “You get a sense of the scope of the fair. You see all the food that’s offered and all the rides.’’
I spotted those midway rides – Screaming Eagle, Superman, Dragon Ship and Patriot Wheel — that foment my fear of heights. No, no, no and no.
Mary continued. “I just love it up there. You see the parents with children and the couples and the single people riding alone – losers like you.’’
Ah yes, sarcasm ruled the day. Bad singing too.
When we walked through the native fish exhibit, Shelley serenaded us with a little ditty. “When you wade through a creek, and an eel nips your feet, that’s a moray.’’ It was almost as bad as the musical “State Fair’’ when Tom Ewell sang to a pig.
My best effort came when we wandered through the animatronic dinosaur exhibit. I couldn’t tell you the difference between the Paleocene Epoch and the Pleistocene Epoch, but I did spot the dinosaur whose tail quit wagging.
I turned to the twosome, who seem to be long-lost sisters, and said: “I think he’s suffering from EDD – erectile dinosaur dysfunction.’’ In unison, they groaned, then turned to hide their laughter.

We missed the pig races, but we wondered aloud if the losers ended up at the concession stand simply called “BACON.’’

Like any good newsman, I found the local connection at the St. Lawrence County booth among the 4-H club exhibits. Isaiah Dowling, no hometown listed, had created a Bonnie the Bunny stuffed animal based on the “Five Nights at Freddy’s’’ video game.
We did stop to eat once we passed the gyros, smoothies, corn-on-the-cob, fresh-cut fries and Gators & Taters, and overcame the sticker shock. Mary’s taco salad ran $17 so she opted for a $12 chicken gyro. My stromboli and soda was $16. Shelley dropped $20 on a turkey leg but we figured it was a good value. It was so big it could have passed for a brontosaurus’s knee.
“This is going to sound hokey, but this whole day made me proud of my state,’’ said Shelley, a native of Queens now living in the shadow of New Hampshire’s Mount Washington. “All that comes out of New York — the products, people, the universities, the government workers – all the people who stand up for New York, they make this a damn good state.’’
To quote a line from the 1962 musical, “Our state fair is a great state fair, don’t miss it, don’t even be late.’’
Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/blog/