7 newbie tips to the L.A. County Fair
I'm not much of a fair guy — I never win at carnival games, I get dizzy as a passenger in a car, and fair food is as overrated as In-N-Out. But last week, I attended the Los Angeles County Fair for the first time ever because why not?
Besides, if Miguel Santana can be a Fairhead, so can I.
He's one of the most influential people in Southern California: longtime confidante of the late Gloria Molina, former chief administrative officer for Los Angeles and current president of the California Community Foundation. But I think he had the most fun as head of the L.A. County Fair from 2017 to 2020, a stint immortalized by his appearance on the cover of the 2022 book '100 Years of the Los Angeles County Fair' riding a gondola lift alongside the book's author, legendary Inland Valley Daily Bulletin columnist David Allen.
'Who's there says a lot about us as Southern California,' Santana said of the L.A. County Fair's audience as I exited the 10 Freeway toward the Fairplex. 'It's a sense of Americana and proof we can be diverse and American at the same time.'
I asked if this fair was as big as the Orange County Fair. He laughed the way all Angelenos do when presented with a comparison to Orange County.
'It's enormous. You're gonna get your 10,000 steps.'
Behold, then, this newbie's L.A. County Fair tips:
Fair parking is an ungodly $22.50, and don't you dare try to leave your jalopy at nearby Ganesha Park unless you want to spend a couple hundred dollars fishing it out of some random tow truck yard. My Pomona parking hookup was faithful reader Fernando Iniguez — gracias, Fern Iggy! I owe you a Jerez sweatshirt.
$21.50 on the internet. At the gate? $32. Um, yeah. But one big complaint, Fair lords: It took me three attempts to buy my tickets online. Ever heard of Zelle?
'There's going to be so much music,' Santana told me, and he was right. Between live bands, Spotify playlists, DJs and radio stations, it was like walking through a wholesome Coachella. Bachata smoothly transitioned to Go Country went to KCRW became Taylor Swift switched over to a super-chirpy cover of the O'Jays' 'Love Train' at the Disco Chicken stand. And though Pharell Williams' 'Happy' played at least five times while I visited, the atmosphere was so cheerful that I didn't have to scream to drown out his ode to optimism.
There's nothing like seeing suburbanites who probably think meat comes from Erewhon fairies stand with terror in their eyes as bleating sheep and goats swarm them asking for pellets.
How much did fairgoers live in the moment? I saw next to no one use their smartphone other than for photos. And I also noticed a middle-age white guy in a MAGA cap standing a few feet away from a Muslim family with nary a negative look at each other. They were too busy staring ahead like the rest of us at an octet of magnificent Clydesdale horses ready to pull a Budweiser wagon.
I loved all the vegetables and livestock at the Farm & Gardens, enjoyed the trippy art at the Flower & Garden Pavilion and appreciated the juxtaposition of a lowrider show next to the Wally Parks NHRA Motorsports Museum near the Millard Sheets Art Center. But the best part of the fair was the area labeled 'America's Great Outdoors' — and I say this as someone who thinks camping and hiking are for the (literal) birds! Volunteers sawed logs with kids, taught them how to pan for gold, showed off desert reptiles and even hosted an environmental magic show. Throw in a replica of a Tongva hut and a U.S. Forest Service fire lookout tower and the nearby sound of the RailGiants Train Museum, and this is what Knott's Berry Farm used to be before it became whatever the hell it is now.
I had to rush back to Orange County for a columna the day I visited, so I only spent an hour and a half at the fair. I had to skip the tablescape competition, didn't go through the exhibit halls and was only able to eat at Hot Dog on a Stick because they make the best lemonade on Earth. But it was wonderful to leave the problems of the world mostly at bay for a few hours to enjoy the living, breathing Wikipedia that is a county fair at its finest — and the L.A. County Fair is definitely that.
Huge Snorlax plush toy: Next year, you're mine.
Alan says: 'Your Man by Josh Turner.'C Price says: 'The Circle Game by Joni Mitchell.'
Email us at essentialcalifornia@latimes.com, and your response might appear in the newsletter this week.
Today's great photo is from Times photographer Robert Gauthier at Dodger Stadium where the 2-year-old son of Dodgers infielder Mookie Betts runs away with the ceremonial first pitch ball.
Kevinisha Walker, multiplatform editorAndrew Campa, Sunday writerKarim Doumar, head of newsletters
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