There's the hint of a chill in the air at the Arkansas State Fair. It's not cold; this is an Arkansas fall. That chill is just a precursor to crisp weather that some hope for down the line.
Nighttime, and the herds of elementary school kids are gone, their hordes reduced to nuclear-family-size units. Moms and dads meander around, watching kids dart from vendor to attraction.
Couples weave between tents, latched onto each other in symbiotic closeness, laughing at the lurid edifice whirling around them. They kiss and smile and speak to each other in their own couple language.
It's the noise, too, and the light. A fair is the definition of cacophony, the hang-dog men manning the games, barking at the chumps, the metallic blare of music from the rides. Wafting over it all are the thin shrieks of riders thrilled beyond coherent speech.
It all ended Sunday. The debris and detritus was kicked around, cleaned up and taken away. The fair became a bare parking lot once again.
Until next year, when night comes to the fair and the whole thing explodes again.
-- John Sykes Jr.
Style on 10/21/2014