By Beverley Smith
There's something that you need to know
About your yearly Grandstand show.
The Midway, Big Four and Parade
They make a thread that links our days
For those born here, locals like me
They weave a trace of memory
That marks our life.
The fifties memories of my dad
Spending the last coins that he had
To try to win me a big bear,
The love I felt while standing there, of him.
The pick up truck we crowded in
To watch the throngs and hear the din
Of bands and how once in BC
I cried to see it on TV.
For even then it seemed to be
The yearly fest was part of me.
The teenage dance, and a first date
With one who would become my mate
A late night drive, laughter in rain
Waiting for him to call again.
The sky ride where my kids showed fright
Enjoyed the view but not the height.
The little donuts, lemonade
Part of the yearly trek mom made.
And though she's gone, and so’s my dad
I buy them still for joys once had.
They linger on the lips, taste great
For love is what they celebrate
The spirit of those now gone on
Is there somewhere amid the throng
There are some things compulsory
A Weadickville hot dog -not free
But priced always amazingly
Like childhood in the memory.
And every guest I take to see
What's warm about the fair for me.
The quilt display, the fancy cakes
For those who love to sew or bake
Were for my sister and for me
Yearly tradition to study.
The show home that we yearly toured
The photos from around the world
The deep fried cookies, got to try
The army tank they let us climb
Walking the aisles relives our past
It's striking just what memories last.
The Segway ride, the Ozzie hat,
The no stick clever ironing mat.
The personal engraving stall
For towels, socks, I bought them all.
And even stairs have memories
A little couple elderly
Walking and looking back to wave
And what a lovely way they gave
To think of aging with a smile
I'll walk there, think of them a while.
And though for you it's just a fair
For locals there is much more there.
This year again I just can't wait
To go down and walk through that gate
I'll go with kids, with husband, friends
And this year once, maybe new trend
I'll go alone -this time for me
To soak up all the memory.