The summer I was 13 years old I lied about my age and landed my first job. It was the end of August and I was desperate to earn some back-to-school clothing money. As I recall, I was hanging out with friends when a guy who lived a couple of streets over pulled up, rolled down his car window and asked if anyone wanted a job at the Ex. It paid $4 an hour - fantastic money when the minimum wage was then $2.65. Fortunately my new employer never asked for proof of age so, with my mother at work and no one to stop me, I confidently told him I was 16 and hopped in the car. For the next three weeks I manned a booth selling wooden toys carved by the Mi'kmaq Indians and earned enough cash to buy a rockin' wardrobe from Fairweather, Stitches and BH Emporium. My next job, the following summer, was at Black Creek Pioneer Village and that, friends, is a whole other story, but the point is I have gone to the Ex every year since 1982. Sure the fair has its detractors - it's gritty, crowded and some of the carnies look a tad unsavoury - it's the exact opposite of Wonderland or Disney but that's what I love about it. So away we went Monday, our annual pilgrimmage to play Whack-a-Mole, wolf down a bag of Tiny Tom donuts, watch the Superdogs and peruse the truly awful crafts bazaar. I can't stay away.
While it rained we wandered in and out of the buildings. The farm was my favourite. the much-hyped butter sculpture did not live up to expectations, but the kids' 'AgVenture' - a throwback to the fair's agricultural roots - was pretty cool. Kids work their way through a series of very cute kid-sized barns and have the chance to sow seeds, feed chickens, collect eggs, milk a cow (a big hit), pick apples and drive a pedal tractor around a course to deliver the harvest to market. So fun. And weirdly stylish for the CNE. I mean, look at those apple trees. And the chicken coop. Well done Ex, well done.
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