What It Is:

Running two weeks from September 7-23, The Puyallup Fair is country living gone commercial crazy. Part country fair with livestock judging, petting zoos, and all manner of animal education signs and sign-ups, part commercial insanity with copious vendors shilling everything from fried vegetables to "krusty pups," barbecued salmon to kettle corn, churros to cheesesteaks, super-absorbant shammies to unbreakable drill bits, The Puyallup Fair is rural pandemonium with a dubious suburban touch.

We "did the Puyallup," as the billboards announce, on a wet Sunday afternoon, which sadly meant we'd be missing out on "Weird" Al Yankovich and Kenny G., who played for free earlier in the week, as well Devo, who would be shaking attendees down for dough headling on the 21st. Instead, we were treated to the mariachi sounds of Festas Patrias, whose free performance entranced the 15,000 or so revelers who packed the Puyallup Events Center morphing the stadium into a miniature Hermosilla. "Viva Mexico," indeed!

The whole shebang was a grand event that went beyond expectation. The vast array of animals was as breathtaking as the breadth of fairgrounds was overwhelming. The food was typical fair crap with some items finding a fine form (the roasted corn was a group favorite) while others were just plain crap (the imitation corn dog "krusty pups" were a sorry replacement even if they are a Northwest institution). The ubiquitous "Sillyville," with its dozens of dangerous looking festival amusements looked like a kid's dream come true, even if the rain and our adult snobbery kept us from partaking. But no mater, a glorious time was had by all in our little rain soaked entourage even as our belllies grumbled from the fast food onslaught on our small intestines.

What We Missed:

A special note must be made regarding an event we missed but must attend in the near future: mutton busting. Apparently, the way the sport works is a sheep is let loose in an open pen while a helmeted child is placed on its back. A gentle slap to the sheep's rump and BAM, the party begins! The sheep bucks like a bronco in an attempt to toss the child into the mud while all manner of hootin' and hollerin' surely ensues from the spectators. Good old fashioned country tom-foolery or animalistic child abuse of the most irresponsible kind? My position couldn't be any clearer: I was ready to adopt a child right then and there, sign the injury waver, strap a catchers mask on his face, and send him on his lamb leeping odyssey, no questions asked. Indeed, if you get a chance to "do the Puyallup," mutton busting is a must.