So I took a small temp job working at the Del Mar Fair today. My job was standing in the sun by one of the entrances, handing out coupon books for three and a half hours, like these people in the matching turquoise T-shirts.
I'll be doing it again the next two Fridays, so I picked up some SPF 70 and applied it before I left home. It seems to have worked beautifully.
After my shift, I went through the photography exhibit (no cameras allowed). The winning photos were so incredibly good, I was intimidated. Still, by the time I finished looking at everything, I gathered up the nerve to ask about how to enter something for next year. The lady said that in March, the website should have the rules for entering. I'll try to remember.
The Home & Garden building had a bunch of cool stuff for sale (most of the cheesy stuff was sold in booths outside), and I chatted with lots of the salespeople, even though I can't spend money on anything. A nice lady wanted me to refinish my kitchen cabinets, but I like the ones I have. A friendly man tried to sell me some shutters. None of the spa salesmen talked to me, though. Just as well.
There were some surprises, for me anyway. A guy selling purple cleaner cleaned my sunglasses, which needed it, because I got sunscreen on them, and then he shined up my Isaiah 54 ring with the purple and a toothbrush. He said he's been selling the product for ten years and travels all around the country, living in Alaska, the Seattle area, Southern California, and Florida. I can't imagine that kind of a vagabond life. I like having a place where I belong.
I learned about a square composting setup with worms (although the guy didn't have any worms on hand that I could see), some easy-fold-up lounge chairs (it felt so good to sit down!), and some frangipani plants that the lady assured me even I could grow. Another man was demonstrating some really expensive cookware to an audience of over a dozen. Hard to believe that many people would watch cookware, but maybe they were just grateful for the chance to get off their feet for a while.
Then I saw an enormous collection of models made of hardwood and polished to perfection. Helicopters, planes, cars, vases, trains, and talking frogs. I took some pictures, but they turned out blurry, because I turned the flash off when I took pictures of my fabrics and never turned it back on. Here's his website, so you can see what he had, but the website doesn't look nearly as impressive as seeing dozens of vehicles and aircraft lined up in neat, polished rows.
Foreigners were present as well. A New Zealander was selling a great invention to use on a weed-eater instead of string spools. Invented by another Kiwi, the gizmo is called a Littl' Juey. I could have used that the last time I tried to mow the weeds--before I broke the shaft of my weed-eater.
And a man from Manchester, England--who thinks soccer is the game that rightfully should be called "football," since you use your feet to play it, as opposed to American football which you play with your hands--was selling some nice outdoor furniture and yard decorations made of bamboo. He stopped in the middle of our conversation to stand on top of a bamboo table for another lady who expressed surprise that the table was only $20. Even with his impressive demonstration and the low price, she still didn't buy it. But it was good to talk to him. His accent lingers after 20 years here in the States and is a welcome change from the ordinary sound of our language.
When I come back next Friday, maybe I'll look at the animals. I might even turn on the flash.