Page 18 THE VILLADOM TIMES I • August 14, 2013 Healing in America’s heartland Recently, my wife’s schedule, my son’s schedule, and my own schedule left us a single sunny window, and we climbed through it. We all got together to look for some healing in America’s heartland at the Warren County Farm- ers Fair. The most spectacular feature of the fair is the hot air bal- loon rides. My wife and I sometimes watch the parti-col- ored balloons soar over my son’s house, Castle Dangerous, and drop off their passengers and crews in the surround- ing farmland. We had expected to spend some time with my grandson, too, but a break in his schedule for a visit to family friends left Johnny stuck with Mom and Pop. This could not have been easy for him, but he took it like a man -- or maybe like a kid again. The farmers fair takes place in an area that may or may not be Phillipsburg. The map is easy to follow, but the designations are amorphous. Out in Warren County, it is America and local borders appear irrelevant. The dirt-and-grass parking lot was in a field where four- wheel drive was a good option. My son remarked that he had never seen so many SUVs in one parking lot, but there was ample space and the people at the gate were friendly and helpful. The admission was $6 a head, which covered absolutely everything, except for rides and snacks. There were short lines, and the Ferris wheel and minia- ture rollercoaster had a lot of empty cars. America is hurt- ing, even in the farm country, but America is still strong. The people we saw were sturdy, good-looking in an honest way, and not at all intrusive, but helpful when asked for information. They were instantly likable. Anything billed as a “farmers fair” is expected to be unpretentious. The variety of the sights and shows, how- ever, was impressive. I had seen that a farmer up the road from my son was raising water buffalo. At the fair, we got a look at some adolescent water buffalo. When they grow up, their milk is used for fresh mozzarella cheese, which is why people raise them locally. Mozzarella fresh from the water buffalo! It doesn’t get better than that. My wife remembered that when she was a kid, the neigh- borhood junk wagon was still pulled by an ox that looked something like one of the water buffalo. Then the noodle man would come and blow his quavering whistle and the kids would run outside to buy noodles, listen to the noodle man’s stories, and pat the junk wagon ox. Even in Tokyo, people lived closer to nature in those days. This was before television and long before computers. The animal barns at the fair also featured an alpaca with a bad haircut. His head was still fluffy, but his body was trimmed until his back and flanks looked something like my son’s boxer dogs. A crafts person with a sort of modern spinning wheel was turning the alpaca wool into yarn. The livestock also included llamas, which are sometimes kept with sheep to protect the lambs from coyotes and feral dogs, and standard European livestock: a big pinto horse, several types of cows, some remarkable pink pigs, goats, a big domestic turkey, and lots of chickens. Kids who have only seen these animals in books especially enjoy seeing them up close. We expected the barn marked “Home Garden” to be selling garden tools. Wrong! This barn featured a non- commercial exhibit of home-grown vegetables, homemade scarecrows, and some extremely professional photographs obviously taken with quality cameras by people who knew what they were doing. Most of the “models” were either children or pets. There was nothing to buy, but lots to appreciate. One area featured a long shed with comfortable chairs set up facing a row of tractors: a tractor museum of sorts. Another shed had brochures from all sorts of groups that wanted members or had information to offer for free. You could literally do the whole show for the price of admis- sion. We had gotten our money’s worth even before the bal- loon launch, which turned out to be iffy. Balloons are weather sensitive and the turbulence in the upper air led the balloonist to send up one, two, and three black balloons of the size you buy for real estate sales just to make sure the big balloons were going to be stable. The third test balloon was the charm and the word passed among the spectators that the launch would take place well before sundown. “Look, Mom, your umbrella is attracting other Asians,” my son said. We had gotten an early spot by the fence and my wife’s telltale umbrella -- serving as a parasol -- became a vector point for other Asians: a Japanese couple, an extended Brahmin family from India, a Dravidian father and two sons, a couple of Chinese families, and a couple of Korean families. There were no conflicts whatsoever, domestic or imported. Everybody got along as all Americans should. Our nearest neighbors were folks from Wales by way of Pennsylvania. We all kept taking one other’s photographs. I asked a couple of times if they could see past us. This is sometimes a problem: My son represents a horizontal obstacle, and I represent a vertical obstacle. They said they could see. I hope they were not just being polite. Before the cool breeze of the evening, with clouds in the far distance, the balloon crews got busy. A woman explained to my wife that the balloons first have to be partly filled with random air from pumps, then with hot air generated by propane. The first passenger balloon was laid out flat, and filled slowly until they were ready for the hot air. Once the propane got started, the “monster” as my Making memories wife affectionately called it, rose up to its full impressive height of a five-story house and the people in the basket left the ground waving to us, as we waved back and some people cheered. Shortly, the big balloons were sprouting like mushrooms in a variety of colors, including my son’s favorite, the “United States Constitution” with bold red and white stripes and a picture of parchment on one side. One bold adventurer took off with no basket. He was sitting in a sort of chair with his legs dangling. The balloons all headed in the same general direction, over the wooded ridge toward my son’s house. About 15 balloons took part in the launch and every one rated waves from the spectators who found the spectacle impressive and touching. As we left, people were revving up trucks for a haul- ing contest, another featured event. The pedestrian crowds were formidable, but mannerly. A nice man with plausible muscles asked me if he was edging me out of line for food, but he was not. I told him to go for it, and we both grinned. I wonder who was scarier. My wife rated the fair a wonderful family event for the summer. I totally agree. It was well worth the admission and the ride from Bergen County. My son, who travels more than we older folks do, told us, “This is what America looks like.” The people were sturdy, healthy, very clean, and notably free of any kind of animosity. They did not impose themselves on anyone. If you talk to them, you find that you are talking to friends, and they know what they are talking about in their own fields of expertise. If America looks like this, the county still has a future -- IF those of us who have any knowledge of world affairs or an international perspective manage to keep these honest people out of trouble. These people do not need a war in Iraq. They do not need to be manipulated by multi-national corporations, international banks, or the agents of foreign governments. They need to run their own lives and to keep producing food, oxygen, and wholesome family-style events like the farmers fair. The people who think the government that represents all of us, or the corporations that control the government, can continue to pull the strings for the rest of the world, however, are in for a rough haircut. Let us hope we get off as easily as that alpaca. Alyssa Cornetta, Priscilla Schmidt, Brielle Cramer, Teya Rosso, Cadence Schmidt, and Gemma Rosso recently ran a lemon- ade stand. The children decided to donate the $25 they made to the American Cancer Society. The money was donated in the name of Charolette Sless, a family friend who recently lost her battle with cancer.