to be fair to carnies...

Summer is coming to a close which means the Champlain Valley Fair is rolling into town. I used to go to this fair to ride the rides and eat the junk food but each time I walked out covered in dust and powdered sugar from whatever greasy, fatty-fried concoction I devoured, I'd always say to myself: "Never again." Three minutes at the fairgrounds makes me filthy. But, here I am, back at the fair walking the grounds by myself and the scene is calm and quiet. The crowds haven't poured in yet, the rides are still being duct-taped together and there is a great ghost town vibe going on in this dust bowl kiddie ride wonderland. Oh, and one more thing, the carnies are here and they are pouring in by the dozens. And I love them.

My love affair with carnies began years ago. I've always been amused by the transient and in awe of their ability to live on the road with the same pack of people for months and months at a time. Fair season is a rough road to haul but they live for it and they love it. I focused my lens on some carny folk yesterday as the Free Press needed some fair preview photos for this weekend's edition. I just love the sun-beaten leathered faces of the carny guys in contrast to the bright, sometimes shiny colors of the rides. I love the blending of accents as they work together to bolt a wheelie car back together for Friday's opening night. I love the crass comeraderie that bonds these guys together as they continue maybe one of the world's most repetitive jobs setting up and tearing down rides that have circled the nation for that past forty years. These guys are a slice of history, but I always wonder if someday my carny photos will look as fantastic as the photos we see of the old Depression-era carnivals that we all love so much. My photos look so shiny, new and fresh - I can't wait to see how they age.