Brooklin Spring Fair, 2005

Last night was the opening of the Brooklin Spring Fair. We've now lived in Brooklin for two years (we took possession of the house on opening night two years ago), but this is the first time we've been able to actually get to the fair.

I'm not much of a fan of either crowds or midways, but I actually enjoyed our visit last night. It's about a fifteen minute walk from our house at the north end of the village, and the weather was perfect for evening strolls. Victor met a friend almost as soon as we were in the main gate, and the two of them disappeared for a couple of hours. Elizabeth and I ended up listening to Tanglefoot in the almost-empty arena while Victor and John haunted all the rides along the midway.

We'd never heard any of the band's music before, so it was educational: they have plenty of amusing anecdotes to introduce several of their songs, and the music was eminently listenable. It often takes me a while to decide whether I like new music (call me a conservative if you like), so it'll be a while before I know whether I'm a fan or not, but the stories were worth the price of admission all by themselves.

My favourite anecdote was the NASA tie-in to the song "Secord's Warning". A Canadian had been a mission specialist on one of the shuttle flights, and the mission specialists are tasked with selecting music for mealtimes. Our hero chose not only to take Music in the Wood, but to put this song on repeat until a mutiny was threatened:

Secord's Warning
Lyrics and Music: Joe Grant and Steve Ritchie

Come all you brave young soldier lads
With your strong and manly bearing
I'll tell you a tale of a woman bold and her deed of honest daring
Laura Secord was American-born in the state of Massachusets
But she made her home in Canada and proved so faithful to us

Chorus

There's American guns and 500 men
So the warning must be given
And Laura Ingersoll Secord was the stalwart heart
Who braved the heat and the flies and the swamp
To warn Colonel Fitzgibbon

There's soldiers pounding at the door
And they come from across the border
American officers march inside
It's food and drink they've ordered
In comfort they have dined and drunk
Their own success they've toasted
But they pay no heed to the woman who hears their plan so idly boasted

Chorus

Oh, James I've overheard it all
A surprise attack they're making
Fitzgibbon they intend to smash
His men for prisoners taking
And James a warning never you'll take with your wounded knee and shoulder
I myself must carry it past the sentries and the soldiers

Chorus

It's an all-day tramp to the British camp
By way of Shipman's Corners
There're snakes and flies and sweat in her eyes
There is no respite for her
She's lost her shoes in the muck of the bog
Her feet are torn and blistered
But there's many a soldier lad to be spared if the message be delivered

Chorus

So all you Yankee soldier lads who dare to cross our border
Thinking to save us from ourselves
Usurping British order
There's women and men Canadians all
Of every rank and station
To stand on guard and keep us free
From Yankee domination

Chorus

I can't imagine why they'd object to such a stirring folk song, can you?

Apologies for the quality of photos, as usual:

The blaze of midway lights as we walked out of the arena at the end of the Tanglefoot concert.	Closer to the main fairgrounds, it's still just a big smear of light, isn't it?
Waiting for Victor and John, near the start of the midway	Waiting for Victor to get his henna tattoo repaired, after having it smeared by a safety bar on one of the rides. That's Victor, just in front of the white tent in his traditional all-black clothes.

The people who've bought new homes adjoining the fairgrounds are rumoured to be complaining about the noise and light and insisting on the fair being moved to a new venue. I'm about as sympathetic to them as I am to people who buy houses beside railroad tracks and then complain that the trains are too loud: for one weekend a year, you can cope. If not, you shouldn't have bought a property so close to a fairground.