Saw our Governor yesterday at the Fair. Nice guy, wicked nice. Im not just saying that either. When he visits with you (always short visits though Im positive hed be as nice during a long visit) you get the feeling hes being sincere. Thats a next to impossible trait to carry when youre a life-long politician, but I think our Governor Douglas carries sincerity in spades, at least when hes relating with the public. As far as how he is when hes working with his peers, I have no idea, nor do I care. Im John Q public and to me, John and Jane Q public are Governor Douglas bosses, and from where I sit, hes a first rate employee who treats all his bosses very well.
His wife was with him as she often is at the fun stuff, and as far as Im concerned the same goes for her. Im not even sure of her name, but Im sure shes not faking the smile she wore as she shook my hand and spoke to me a word or two. I didnt get a politicy feel from her at all, but instead I felt as though I was greeting my kids 4th grade teacher, someone whom Ive spent time with before, but dont know very well, but someone I fully trust. Shes also some attractive (youll find 4th grade teachers often are ... if you dont mind my saying).
Separately and as a team, Governor Douglas and his wife get my vote at least for nicest politicians around. Like relatives they are, to everyone they meet. I mean that. Very old Americana ee.
Which brings up something else about the fair that to me was Americana-ee, but is long past, and should I say, oft missed.
The Hoot shows. You might call them the Girlie Shows. I miss them. Not in an its exciting seeing naked women sense, but in an I miss the old days, good old Americana sense.
Long gone are the Hoot shows and with them a 14 year old boys off the charts excitement at going to the Fair with his 17 year-old neighbor buddy who swears he can get them both behind the curtain and in to see his first real live naked girl. Its a shame its gone too because I want to tell you thats excitement. Thats the kind of excitement that to an early teen boy makes loosening one training wheel and still staying upright seem like pickin daisies.
I remember my first Hoot show. It was at the Champlain Valley Fair (Yup, they had them, Im not wrong, you think I am, but Im not, your beloved Champlain Valley Fair had Hoot shows and good ones, look it up, or go to Borders and ask to see a book about Hoot shows cause theres a photo in that book from the Champlain Valley Fair dated I think, 1975, trust me), I think in 1975 or so, which made me 15. I ran into a school chum who was a tad older who got me in. Well, he didnt get me in, he just taught me, a pimply face pubescent, that if I could believe I was 18, the ticket taker/Barker would believe I was 18. Come to find out I was good at believing and I could believe I was 18 (The start of my acting career perhaps?) and with the swish of the ticket takers hand showing me the way to the inside of the tent, my heart was beating three times as fast as what a ride on the Tilt-a-Whirl with my best friends ex-wife and daughter could make it beat.
Of course my heart would beat another twenty or so beats per minute when the show finally began and
I dont think it was the nakedness or the beauty of the girls (It definitely wasnt the beauty of the girls), that pumped my blood so, I think it was the danger and possibility that I might turn around and be staring straight face to face with my local church pastor (Didnt happen but it probably has). It was bad enough when I got a little older and went to a Hoot show with some of my construction bosses, who were married, and whom I looked up to, and saw that they were all too familiar with the rewards being in the front row and rubbing the edge of the stage could bring. After witnessing what took place in the Hoot tent between the gals and my bosses, I never took their orders quite as definite as I had before Id known them to be such willing showman.
But alas there are no more Hoot shows to be found in any of the Vermont fairs. Poor young 14 and 15 year old fellers have to settle with being excited by multi-movement truck snow plows, and pig races, and corndogs, and boring ridiculous stuff like all of that.
It really is unbelievable to think that a short time ago on the mid-way at our beloved urban Champlain Valley Fair, there were Hoot show gals scantily clad and all hangin' on poles on a rickety seven foot long two-foot wide stage, singing and a swaying to music from an A.M. transistor radio, smiling at boys young and old, right in front of the wife, grandma, grand pappy, and the rest of the kids. Could you imagine that happening now? Could you imagine what uproar a Hoot show would cause here in the year 2007? Men would go astray and entire families would be ripped apart. Those nasty Hoot show broads stumbling around in front of the town folk would infest among us all the worst kind of ill one can possibly continue to operate within a respectable life with. Hoot shows would wreck our society before noon on opening day. Seeing Hoot shows at the fair in these modern days of the year 2007, with all their sex and putrid, sick, messed up visions of odd never thought of deviant ways, would stop life here in our serene lovely Vermont dead in its tracks.
I for sure think its much better that we stay home half drunk and watch all that stuff on TV.