As for the fair, I was just glad that the rain, for the most part, held off and the big events enjoyed good attendance. I was also glad that we had a carnival back this year and that all of our livestock shows and exhibits turned out great.

The fair was also judged this year by the state fair association, so we’ll just have to wait and see what happens with that.

In addition, the lawnmower race got some added attention when public television showed up to do a little filming and a few interviews. That can’t be anything but good.

While things went well, I did notice that the moon was full and bright by Saturday night. Have you ever noticed how the oddest things seem to happen on a full moon?

I once knew a man who worked in the mental health field who claimed that the patients would be unusually anxious and hard to deal with on nights with a full moon.

I wouldn’t know anything about that sort of thing. I did get to meet the woman on which the movie “Faces of Eve” was based. In case you aren’t familiar, she was treated for what is known as multiple personality disorder. She claimed to change from one personality to another as she was going along, sometimes changing from a mild-mannered housewife to a barroom wildcat. Of course, a lot of men and women do that every weekend without getting a movie made about themselves. But that’s another story.

I also know another fellow who is a frequent patient, but I don’t really want to get into that very much here. I think he’s committed himself or been committed more than 30 times now and pretty well goes back in whenever he needs some time off from the world.

Sometimes I feel like I could use a break from the world, too. However, I don’t want to get it like that unless I really need to.

Anyway, my friend shared a story with me about being in a mental facility and watching the patients head for the community television. TV was not allowed in the rooms for fear that it might cause problems. Instead, videos were utilized for entertainment. “They only had a few videos and kept playing a cartoon called the Thundercats,” he said. “I watched it once, but after that, they kept playing the same one.” At this point, he approached the nurse and told her that he was in the wrong place. “I may need a little help, but I’m not crazy enough to watch the same Thundercats cartoon over and over and not know it’s the same thing. You’ve got me in the wrong place.” I think they gave him a shot and sent him shuffling back to his room.

He is a good storyteller and I always enjoy his yarns, no matter how true they are.

He also told me that he made extra cigarette money by selling contraband to the ‘inmates’ there. It wasn’t drugs or weapons, like I would have thought. It was something most of us consider benign. Evidently, they couldn’t have caffeinated drinks, for fear it might excite them. He made extra cash selling instant coffee by the spoon full. I would likely be in line to buy it on the black market if someone took my coffee away, too.

What had me thinking about all this stuff? I suppose it was just some of the crazy stuff I always see at the fair, including the crazy stuff I do myself.

Last Thursday night, my church came to sell lemonade for the gospel show. The crowd was down quite a bit from where I thought it should be. The chuch group was set up and ready, but the pastor had yet to come with the lemons for the lemonade. I offered to call him and find out where he was in case he ‘got lost.’

A fellow church member gave me his telephone number off his cell phone and I dialed it. When the man’s voice said hello on the other side, I asked, “Where are you?”

“I’m on the road,” came the reply. “Where are you?”

“I’m up here at the fairgrounds wondering where the lemons are. We’ve got a lemonade stand with no lemons here. We’re selling aid,” I said.

“Who is this?” He asked.

“This is Coby,” I said, surprised that he didn’t recognize my voice.

“Coby who?”

Now surprised even more, I said jokingly, “Coby wants some lemonade, hurry and get up here.”

“You must have the wrong number. Who were you calling,” the man, now laughing, said.

I had accidentally called a Galax police officer because the fellow who goes to church with me gave me the wrong number. I didn’t know until the very end. After that, I was embarrassed enough to have someone else call the pastor. He showed up about 10 minutes later, lemons in tow.

Having a good sense of humor, he enjoyed my story. I was told that he once thought of being a commedian before being called to preach, which makes things interesting from time to time. I’ve never asked him about it, but I might — if only I had his cell phone number.

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