Summer is here and that means county and state fair time is coming soon. Fairs have largely displaced the old-fashioned circuses and carnivals. Long ago, back when I was a free-range little shaver, small circuses and carnivals used to come to small towns like Tuscola for a few days’ stay.
They paraded down main street with all their exotic menagerie of animals, clowns, jugglers, elephants, caged wild animals in bright red-and-gold wagons, even occasionally a calliope — an organ-like musical instrument with brassed old train whistles affixed to its tops — pumping out a melody so smashing-glass loud that every citizen in mile-square Tuscola knew something spectacular had rolled into town. This rolling pageantry of exotic sights and sounds made its way to Ervin Park, where it pitched the big tent (for a circus) and set up food stands and various exciting games — like throwing a softball in an attempt to knock over a pyramid of three stacked bowling pins that had been tack-welded together and super-glued to the platform upon which they sat. I, and like-minded border-line juvenile delinquents, would often jump in and join the parade, running behind like we were part of the extravaganza.
Which led to my first life lesson: Never walk at the tail end of a parade featuring horses and elephants. You’ll thank me later. And, oh, that carny food.
Carnivals introduced me to the best food I had ever eaten — then and now — with my favorite being the corn dog. The heart of the c.
