Corn dogs, concerts and a crowd full of memories

There is something uniquely entertaining about an Iowa State Fair concert. You can buy a deep-fried pickle. Pet a champion bull. Admire a butter sculpture. And then spend the evening singing along with thousands of strangers who somehow all know every word to a song released years before many of them were born.

Yes, fair concerts are their own unique experience. Let’s start with the seating. You may have paid for a reserved chair, but that doesn’t guarantee you will actually see the stage. Right in front of you is a guy who is 6-foot-8 and wears his favorite cowboy hat to every concert. Two seats over is someone who believes every song deserves to be recorded on a cellphone held directly over the giant cowboy’s head. 

Then there are the people who arrive late. Nothing says “excuse me” like squeezing past 32 people while carrying four beers, along with three pork chops on a stick and a bucket of cookies that were smuggled in. By the time they find their seats, the opening act has finished and half the audience knows exactly what they had for supper.

Of course, the Iowa State Fair attracts artists from every genre. One night, it’s country. The next, it’s rock. Then classic pop. Sometimes you attend because you absolutely love the performer. Other times you realize halfway through the first song that you only know the one they played during a beer commercial 20 years ago. It doesn’t matter. By the second chorus, everyone is singing anyway. Including me.

The Iowa State Fair also provides some unforgettable aromas. Depending on which way the breeze blows, you might catch hints of funnel cakes, smoked turkey legs, livestock barns or sunscreen. It is a sensory buffet unlike any other concert venue in America.

And let’s not forget the weather. The concert might begin with 92-degree heat and end with everyone digging out sweatshirts. Iowa weather enjoys being part of the entertainment.

What I enjoy most, though, is watching the crowd. Grandparents introduce grandchildren to the music they grew up with. Teenagers discover bands older than their parents. Couples celebrate anniversaries. Friends who only see each other once a year pick the fair concert as their reunion spot. For a couple of hours, politics, deadlines and everyday worries fade into the background. The performers may headline the grandstand, but the audience steals the show.

When thousands of Iowans clap in rhythm, belt out lyrics they barely remember and sway beneath the August sky, you realize the Iowa State Fair isn’t just about blue-ribbon livestock or outrageous food. Sometimes the best exhibit is 10,000 people proving that music, like the fair itself, is meant to be shared — preferably with a cold beverage in one hand and absolutely no one holding a cellphone over your head. ♦

Shane Goodman 
Editor and Publisher
CITYVIEW
shane@dmcityview.com
515-953-4822, ext. 305