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Seattlest spent this weekend visiting friends in Spokane. We know, we know. "Why, in God's name would you go to Spokane?" Trust us, we've heard it before.
But Spokane isn't all bad. It has a few great restaurants, a small but fascinating music scene made up alternately of young, unable-yet-to-escape kids in punk rock bands and older, happy-to-be-settled-down really good musicians all playing in a small town which is full of outdoor opportunities in urban parks, hiking trails right, and a river in the middle of town that is shallow enough and slow enough for a day's floating.
It was also home over the past 10 days to the Spokane Interstate Fair.
When we first asked our friend if we could come and visit, he told us that we'd have to go to the fair with him, but that it would be well worth our time. After a Saturday evening spent wandering the massive grounds and mingling with the locals, we have to agree. Going to the Spokane Interstate Fair makes the visiting Puyallup look like an evening at the opera.
From rides to fried cheese on a stick to belt buckles as big as a pot-bellied pig, everything we wanted and more was at the fair. We got our fill of grease thanks to the curly fries drenched in oil (our pictures of the fryers on fire didn't come out),
the disgusted, smoking moms and
baby piglets born just a few days before. Let's not forget the llamas for petting, sheep, a llama-judging competition and a glimpse of this future president of 4-H:
We didn't get a shot of the Vietnamese pot-bellied pigs that were born last week, but learned what some locals think of the cute little buggers when we heard one tell another, "I shot about hundred of 'em when I was in 'Nam."
The highlight of the night was the hypnotist (no state fair is complete without one) who put 15 or so folks under and had them believing rats were running across the stage, acting like Gwen Stefani, spanking each other, and competing in booty-shaking contests. You may not believe that this stuff is real, but having witnessed it for ourselves, we're pretty sure that no one could have gotten this guy to sing the Oscar Mayer Bologna song
or this guy to shake his booty in public without hypnotizing them first.
Each time we go and visit our friend in Spokane, we're shown a life that looks attractive. People there all know each other and the housing is affordable. By day we drive ten minutes to the sprawling Palisades Park and wander for hours across the forest floor and through ravines carved by Spokane River tributaries. By night we eat excellent sushi, see great alt-country punk bands and flirt heavily (during our pre-married visits) with smart, beautiful women who outnumber the town's men by at least two to one.
But we think we're over that for good now. This trip and its visit to a real county fair, helped us see past all that glitter and look a little deeper into what life as Spokanest would have to offer. It ain't pretty.
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