Pigs, kids and how to meet girls
By Julie Carter
The cell phone rang and when answered, the phrase "I'm on my way to a pig sale," could be heard over the roar of the F-350 flatbed pickup as it rolled down the highway.
The digital hi-fi wireless age has allowed people a glimpse into our personal lives and let them find us in places it never occurred to them we would be.
This particular mother was headed out with her husband and son to get new livestock for this year's county fair projects. The guy calling was her computer networking tech.
He was someone from her other life. The one where she is a business owner in skirts demanding efficiency, order and perfection.
None of which she would find at the pig sale.
He politely tried to reason why in the world would she be going to a pig sale?
It is sometimes a little hard for "regular" people to grasp the concept of livestock projects for FFA and 4-H youth headed to the county and state fair.
Their deductive reasoning finds no logic in driving long distances to buy just the right pig or three, spending the next three months buying feed and dispensing it to said animals knowing full well the highest odds are for losing money in the end.
The value of this effort year after year is not tangible because it really isn't about the pig. It isn't about how much he ate, how well he showed or how many cents per pound he'll bring in August. It is all about the kid.
It is about an investment in responsibility. From now until fair time, the kid will be required to daily feed, groom, exercise and clean-up after a pig. (Or other show animals but for the purpose of the lesson, we'll stick with the pig.)
And the most surprising part to those same amazed regular people is that the kid really does like it and so does the pig.
Something happens within the youngster when that animal becomes part of his daily life and dependent upon him.
Psycho-babblers would call it bonding. The pig has no idea about that but he knows that the short person that shows up every day is bringing chow and some attention. That's good enough for a pig.
Just about the time the pig and the kid are into a steady routine and summer seems endless, it is fair time. Again, although it's the pig that gets the kid to the fair, it's still really not about the pig.
Pig pens are cleaned, assigned and move-in day is a flurry of squeals and snorts and some of those from the pigs.
Kids are running, jumping, climbing, laughing and joking. You'd think they'd just arrived in Disneyland instead of the pig barn at the fair grounds.
The teen kids stand in segregated groups with mirrored sunglasses, cool ball caps, bling-bling jewelry and perfect lip-gloss trying to pretend they don't notice each other. Many a long-term marriage's courtship began in such a place - a week in the county fair pig barn.
All the kids, large and small, are giddy with anticipation of the fun they'll have for this one week. Any doubts they may have had in April about whether they wanted to show livestock this year has vaporized into sights and sounds of the pig barn.
My 13-year-old son had some of those momentary doubts. But they quickly vanished when his reasoning skills kicked in.
I was assured of that when he said, "Mom, the fair is a good place to meet girls."
© Julie Carter 2007
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