Ewe could have woolly good time

Spokane County Interstate Fair attendance is vanishing faster than molars in a carnie’s mouth.

Consider the shocking numbers:

In 1989, nearly 400,000 people attended our fair.

This year’s gate was down to one family from Wilbur.

And they thought they were going to Costco.

True, this year’s fair made Hurricane Ivan look like the Gobi.

But you can’t blame the poor turnout all on the weather. Fair attendance has been in a freefall since the Clinton administration, although there is no concrete proof of any connection to Monica Lewinsky.

The question everybody is asking me is, “Doug, what can we do to transform this soggy corndog of a county fair into a succulent lambburger of entertainment?”

The solution is far more complex than merely encircling the swine barn with thousands of Airwick air fresheners, although that would be a terrific starting point.

Nothing sucks the joy out of a mouthful of elephant ear like the smell of pig potty.

I’ve invested literally tens of minutes coming up with a plan to return the fair to its hayseed wonder years.

And I’m challenging my fair and imbalanced readers to follow my lead. Send me your fair makeover musings via the contact information below. The top three entrants will win a cheesy stuffed animal similar to the ones you might win on the midway if all the games weren’t rigged.

Here are my suggestions:

Changing of the gourds.

Once a sure-fire draw, the giant pumpkins have become more boring, irrelevant and predictable than a Ralph Nader presidential run. It’s time to replace these overgrown squash with a fresh freakish display.

Giant bumpkins.

Who wouldn’t come to gawk at an exhibit featuring the area’s heftiest hill folk.

CHILD: “Ma! Looka that bumpkin. He’s huuuge!”

MOTHER: “That’s Jed’s boy, Otis. From Omak. He’s a 500-pounder.”

Squeal like a pig.

The pig races are one of the few fair attractions still popular. But just because something ain’t broke don’t mean I won’t fix it.

I say raise the stakes even higher.

Winning pig still gets the blue ribbon.

Losers get their ribs slathered with sauce at the Longhorn Barbecue booth.

FAIRGOER: “Mmm. That No. 7 couldn’t run a lick. But he sure is tasty.”

The lame name game.

Each year, the dumb clucks running the fair insult our intelligence with some moronic critter-based slogan.

This time it was “Flock to the Fair; We’ll See Ewe There.”

Based on the prices it’s surprising they didn’t make it: “Flock to the Fair: We’ll Fleece Ewe There.”

Past fairs featured “The Real Squeal Deal” and “Wooly Wooly Good Times.”

How baaaaad can you get? Does anyone actually think such cornpone dorkiness still works in a sophisticated age?

It’s time to take a cue from Fox TV executives, real experts who know the keys to attracting today’s modern audience.

Sleaze and violence.

They’d get customers thundering to the fair with slogans like, “Ride the Zipper,” “When Hot Chicks Run Wild” or “Stroke the Llama.”

Slip-sliding away.

I’m running out of room, but not ideas.

I have a dream, my friends. I see a fair where all carnival rides are free IF YOU DON’T USE THE SAFETY BARS.

That would make the rides as much fun for cowards on the ground as they are for the clowns who ride them.

FAIRGOER: “Look at Johnny fly outta that Tilt-a-Hurl. Ouch! That’s gotta hurt.”

I see a fair with an adults-only animal husbandry barn. (Thursday is bull semen night!) I see a fair with a dangerous animal petting zoo. (Lions and tigers and bears, oh, my.)

Come on, people. Together we can put the fun back in our fair.

Stroke the llama!