I remember when I was a kid and mom and dad would pile me and my siblings into the station wagon and drive us up to Norwich for a fun-filled day at the Chenango County Fair and ...
Who am I kidding? I never went to the fair as a kid. (Cue the violins, please).
No, save for the occasional trip to the Big N (dating myself here) as an Oxford boy, my trips to Norwich were few and far between – and never included the Chenango County Fair until I was a junior in high school.
That’s when I joined the Oxford Blackhawks Marching Band (I’ll spare you the progression of my musical genius), and one our biggest events of the summer was to march in the fair’s Firemen’s Parade.
Again, dating myself, that’s also back when the Firemen’s Parade had marching bands in it. And no, one marching band from Laurens (not even in Chenango County, but thanks for coming!) doesn’t count. It’s also back when the firemen were largely, and visibly, drunk – but that’s a whole other column.
My first forays to the Chenango County Fair back then were much like any other teenager’s, I suppose -- chasing each other around the fairgrounds, eating our own weight in junk food and testing our equilibrium on midway rides that had been in pieces on a flatbed only hours before.