Do you like the fair?

“I love the fair so, of coursely, I like it!” — Ann, 6, of Napa

Several weeks ago I was asked if I’d be interested in pouring wine at the Napa Town and Country Fair. Unemployed and needing money, I thought about it but said no. Too many years on the receiving end, I figured.

Several minutes later I get a call from my sister back east. She and her husband had arrived home safely from China with their newly adopted little girl, their second.

The call reminded that — while I’ve never had kids, never felt the need and most likely never will — I had a blast last summer being around the first girl they adopted, my niece, Noelle, 7.

It got me thinking about the fair: I’d work, but not pouring wine. I’d insist on doing something in KiddieLand.

I was told I’d be running the Motorcycle Jumpers, a contraption allowing children between 3 feet and 4 feet tall to ride a miniature motorcycle. Each cycle seats two and has a horn for each rider. The horn makes a cacophonous sound like a cross between a cicada and bullfrog, though much louder and more obnoxious than anything produced in nature.

Racing around rather quickly, the cycles pull a wheelie and then jump off a ramp. If you are between the ages of, say, 3 and 7, this is quite exciting — or frightening!

This clueless-about-kids guy would learn much about the aliens in the next five days.

Twins and tiaras

Put on your seat belt!

“I know … I’m 5 years old!” snapped Sara, of Napa.

Oh-kay, how about you? Do you need help buckling up?

“Nope cuz I’m 6! I’m older!” said Sara’s friend, Trish.

Before kids are aware of things like racism or sexism, they are totally age-oriented. This is very important to their being. Remember how long a year was when we were young? The difference between first and third grade seemed like a lifetime. As we get older, years go by as quickly as a CD spinning in a boom box.

Are you twins, I asked two identical-looking girls waiting in line in identical clothes.

“What do you think?” replied Suzanne, 6, Napa.

Would you two like to ride on the same motorcycle?

“No! Twins don’t do everything together.” said Julia, Suzanne’s sister.

I learned that each child knows they are different from another. Even at the advanced age of 6, they know what they and their siblings and friends like and dislike. They are even more aware in this department than many adults.

Enjoy the ride?

“No. It was extremely annoying. One more time around and I’d have a terrible headache,” said Traci, 6, of Napa.

Man, can they express themselves. Done in different ways, they are more expressive than most parents.

You’re first in line so jump on any one you want, I said to Will, 6, of St. Helena.

“I want the fastest,” he said.

Well, they all go the same speed.

“No they don’t. One is always fastest and one is always slowest. I want the fastest!”

Lesson: Don’t argue with the little people.

Boy, that is a beautiful tiara you are wearing, I said to one girl. Are you the queen?

“Yes. And it’s a crown,” said Holly, 6, of Napa.

Oh. Do you want your mom to hold your crown while you’re on the ride?

“No … I am the queen!”

The magic of the youthful imagination!

“I want to ride up front on one with a horn that works,” said, Bubba, 6, of American Canyon.

Then jump on this one, I say. Its horn works. But I notice the kid is making a funny face.

“I don’t like the color. Do you like the color?”

I guess so, I answer.

“Well, it’s pink. My dad says pink is for girls and I’m no girl. Are you a girl?”

No.

“Then why do you like pink?”

There is a time and place for debating the esoteric correctness of such points. The Motorcycle Jumpers at the fair is neither.

Placing a little girl in the back seat, I asked, are you comfortable?

“Yes,” she answered, leaning forward and kissing the back of her brother, who was sitting upfront. “I love my big brother,” said Adina, 4, of Napa.

“Did you just kiss me?” asked her brother, Pedro, 6, over his shoulder. Then, looking at me, “I love my sister.”

What affected me most was the closeness siblings felt for one another. Many things I heard or said brought tears to my eyes, especially the protectiveness the older brother or sister felt for their younger ones.

I had exchanges like this constantly:

“Let me help you down from there,” I’d say.

“No, I want my older brother to help me,” said Bobby, 4.

“You don’t have to worry, mister ... I’ll get Bobby down,” said Bobby’s brother, Matthew, 6, as he pushed me aside.

Mohawks for Bubba

Ugh! I grunted struggling to lift an obese boy out of the front seat.

“Are you He-Man?” asked a wide-eyed, incredulous Andrew, 6, from Yountville, in the back seat.

Never has the incidence of child obesity hit home with such force. For every kid’s seat belt I tightened I would have to loosen two others. Many of these kids resembled bloated fire hydrants and were too fat to fit into their seats. Parents allowing their kids to blimp like this before the age of 8 should be charged with cruel and inhumane treatment.

Before letting anyone in, I gave simple, clear instructions: All the little guys have to ride in the back seat. Your bigger brothers and sisters may ride upfront. Parents may help you in … and no running!

As soon as the gate opens up, kids and parents wash over me as they run pell-mell without regard who sits up front or in back. I wonder if I no longer speak clearly. Then it hits me: Many of these people don’t understand English.

We live in America. America speaks English. If an adult decides to make it here not speaking English, that is their choice. But to not have your children speaking English by the time they are in school is another form of cruel and inhumane treatment. Like the obese child, they are beginning life handicapped in a competitive world that can be merciless.

My other observations of the fair:

• Never have I see so many little boys respond to the name “Bubba.” I can’t imagine any kid outside of the south with that name during the Clinton Administration.

• The mohawk is the current “do” for dudes under 8. By the second night, I was beginning to wonder what I would look like with a “hawk.”

• Mothers, as a whole, kept their maternal eyes on their children from the moment they got on. They lived the ride vicariously through their children. If one was happy and laughing, so was the other. On the other hand, if their children had an emotional meltdown, they would want me to stop the ride immediately.

• For every father that reacted like a mother, there were two others on their cell or darting to the beer concession. And fathers insisting their 4-year-olds be a man and not cry in fear should be tied by their ankles to a helicopter and flown around the valley at tree-top level.

• Speaking of alcohol: Parents have no right drinking to excess in front of their kids. When you have children, everything changes. You have to live up to higher expectations and set a good example in front of your kids.

Grown-up reflections

The 2007 Napa Town and Country Fair came to an end, and I found myself sad. Many of the kids rode the Motorcycle Jumpers so many times that I got to know them and their parents by name.

At 3 a.m. I found myself working with the tear-down crew, disassembling the Jumpers. Tears filled my eyes thinking of all those happy young faces. It felt good being part of such a magical event.

Concern and sadness, however, crept in as I realize this will probably be the last generation to enjoy a fair like the 2007 Napa Town and Country Fair.

Last week the U.S. Department of Energy quietly released a report saying that in less than 30 years we will exhaust the planet’s supply of oil. Their report emphasized that there is no Plan B and we are to expect “severe global food shortages, mass starvation, disease and overall breakdown of social and economic institutions” in as little as a decade.

Before that ever happens, though, we may suffer a fiscal implosion that would have the same effect as Peak Oil. Do people realize that the Federal Reserve’s decision to print more than $100 billion last month in an attempt to stave off a housing Armageddon just cheapens the dollar and hastens its demise?

The reality of other threats like global warming increased my melancholia. Most people are not aware of the dire future their children face, which makes me wonder: Would many parents have had children had they known what the future holds?

As for me, I came away from the fair still happy I have chosen a childless path. However, the five days of the fair were just as magical for me as they were for the children. Their happy memories on the Jumpers will eventually fade into the mists of time. Mine will last me for the rest of my life.