Hi world! Chris here. Please excuse any emotional outbursts this post because it’s about something very near and dear to me and my whole family. No matter where we are in our lives or in the world, we’re all Dixie Classic devotees at heart. It’s a fair that’s more like a second home because of the people, the memories, and literally everything else about it.

I know it’s a different experience for my family going than it is for others, but that’s just because we went to show cows. Every year we came for both the open show and the junior show with our string of almost ten cows and just the four of us kids to handle it under our parents’ supervision.

For anyone who doesn’t show cows, you probably don’t understand the kind of responsibility that requires. Being a show kid requires chilly mornings starting before 5 am so that you can get the cows on the wash rack before it gets too crowded. It requires blow drying said cows, and brushing them, and planning out the perfect ratio of grains and corn and whatever else you need to feed them. You can’t even think about your own breakfast until they’ve finished theirs and have started on the hay you also need to give them.

And after the show is done, all that work just gets washed right back out again as you repeat the morning routine.

But in between each rush of action, the actual show takes place. That’s usually when things get interesting.

To this day, I can still feel the nerves as I change into the right outfit. I can smell the different sprays as dad styles the hair on my heifer. I can hear the whir of the fans and taste the dry sawdust they stirred.

In the ring that all has to disappear. It’s just you and your heifer then. It’s all about keeping an eye on the judge while your attention really belongs on what your doing. You need to stay in control and keep both your walk, and your heifer’s walk, steady. You need to keep her feet in the most optimizing position. If the judge touches your heifer, you’ve gotta brush her. If he asks you a question, you gotta know it.

There’s a lot going on inside the ring even if it doesn’t look like it from the outside. I can’t tell you how many times a heifer escaped or knocked over the shower because there’s so much going on it’s impossible to stay in control. I’ve been stepped on more times than I can count. And slobbered on, and slapped in the face by my show stick, and given the wrong answer to the judge’s question, and so on.

It just happens sometimes. All a part of the experience I guess.

Even if it’s not the most glorious life, it is pretty thrilling to get that blue ribbon and shake the judge’s hand because you won. Whether it’s just first in the class or supreme grand champion, the colorful fabric and golden letters are always exciting to see. And I’ve certainly won my fare share.

But even if I had never won, showing would still come with great memories getting to know my family in ways only living on a farm allows.

We used to have sword fights with our show sticks and play hide-and-seek amongst the trailers. Sometimes we gathered acorns to create epic battles on the wash rack or we’d ride to tie out at night and watch the fireworks go off above the sleeping cows. Every morning we explored the fairgrounds before they opened to the public to find our breakfast of Amish donuts and apple cider. And for lunch we crowded on top of the show box, bumping and shoving each other as we ate our sandwiches.

We spent so much time together I’m not sure how we didn’t hate each other. We certainly fought a lot, but then two seconds later we’d be cracking jokes about something that we did at the show last year. I don’t think anything better represents having siblings than going from screaming to hugging in less than a minute.

But the older I got, and the less I showed, the more my memories started to stretch outside the barn and outside my family as well. Just this year I spent my time at the fair with my best friend instead of in the barn. Of course we visited, but we also had experiences outside too.

So while the cattle barn will always be the focal point of my Dixie Classic days, I can also enjoy the other aspects of the fairgrounds too.

Mick and I always love looking in the educational buildings at all the exhibits on display. (Side Note: I really want her to start submitting her work because she is both an artist and a photographer, so she could totally own the show.) I used to submit things of my own too. I think my siblings and I have all gone home with more than just a ribbon from our heifers, but sometimes it was just for participation.

Because the fair is expensive enough as it is, I don’t care too deeply for the advertisement building because I can’t afford anything in there. However, I do think it’s funny to enter into the drawings that involve guessing the amount of money in whatever kind of machine they have. I actually got second place one time and they offered to buy me supper at a really nice restaurant, but I was in Wilmington when they called so I had to pass.

Probably the best part about the advertisement building is the butterfly encounter at the back. It’s like a room made of netting that holds dozens of butterflies and flowers. I used to be really obsessed with butterflies as a kid, so I go in every year.

For more live animal encounters, there’s always the petting zoo in between the sheep barn and the cattle barn. It’s the only place at the fair that you’re actually supposed to touch the animals (Please don’t touch cows in the cattle barn. Just don’t).

The fair has had several different zoos come to fill the spot, but I know my favorite one used to come when I was a little kid. They always let me help cut up the carrots to feed the animals and they gave me free pony rides.

That same zoo actually bought one of my sheep when I used to show sheep instead of cows. His name was Bambi and because he was a boy, he was sold after I showed him. Usually, he would’ve gone to make meat, so I was bawling about it until the owner of the zoo decided to buy him. Then I got to go visit him the following years.

(Side Story: There’s this big fountain/pond outside the petting zoo and when I was really little I fell in. My siblings swear up and down that I jumped in, but I really think I fell. Of course by now my memory is so faded I very well could’ve jumped and just convinced myself I fell. Who knows? I just remember being soaking wet and cold.)

Something I remember a lot more clearly than falling into the fountain was finishing up with the show and heading out on the fairgrounds with a bunch of the kids from the barn to ride rides. We would travel in a group then pair up for the rides we wanted to try. It usually ended up with the boys wanting to ride something insane and stupid while we girls went for more classic fair rides.

But more classic than any ride is the Ferris Wheel. It’s so classic it’s iconic.

And of course no fair would be complete without the constant call of the carnies to throw a ball or a dart or whatever in order to win a stuffed animal worth like five dollars.

I admit that unicorn is super cute. I actually won a small one from a claw machine like three years ago. It’s the one and only time I’ve defeated the claw machine. Now it just takes my money for nothing in return. Which is really a shame when one considers that that money could be spent on something like food. Another iconic part of the fair.

There are so many good things that only come around when the fair does. And there are so many good things that only came to be because of the fair. For example, the fair gave us deep fried oreos, funnel cakes, frozen cheesecake dipped in chocolate, and like fifty other unhealthy options (it’s okay because calories don’t count at the fair).

As a fruit fan, I think the best thing the fair has brought into my life by way of food is the giant pineapple smoothies. I have to get one every year even though they’re super expensive. I don’t know why, but they just fill me with joy. (Side Note: It’s probably because I love pineapples.)

So far I’ve been lucky that even though I now live four hours away, I still get to come home for at least one day at the fair. I think I’m the only kid that hasn’t missed a year yet. But, even if we can’t each make it in person, I know we’re each there in our hearts.

This year, despite Jacob being almost a whole continent away, Erin living in Alabama, and Rae running her own house now, it still felt like home inside the old barn. I could still smell the hair sprays, hear the fans, and taste the sawdust. I could still relive every year we spent together at that fair, and that brought them all there with me.

No matter how old we get and how far away our lives take us, we’ll always be Dixie Classic devotees, and those memories are something nobody can take from us. Plus, I think we all enjoy getting to say “yes, I was raised in a barn.”

I know there’s a lot of political upheaval going on about the Dixie Classic Fair right now because of the name and the connotations it ensues. I’m not here to make a stand for either side. I grew up with it being called Dixie, so it’s definitely what I’m used to, but it’s still not my place to say what does or doesn’t offend anyone else.

Instead of causing a problem, I’d rather reinstate a slogan used in a popular exhibit this year.

“Whatever the name, the fun is the same.”

Every year I can, I’ll be there. Even if it’s not Dixie anymore. Because no name can change the memories I’ve made or the experiences I’ve yet make. It’s still going to be the best fair out there.

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If you’re still craving more, check out my sister’s blog here. She covers a lot of fashion tips and does a lot of traveling herself. She even has her own fair post up now. You can compare our opinions to get an even better overview of showing cows at the fair.

Next week I’m hoping to come up with something fun to write about for Halloween. We’ll see what I can manage. Until then, stay safe out there! (Extra safe now that it’s spooky season!)