A return to Colby Cheese Days
Ah, Colby Cheese Days. A moniker that practically screams “Wisconsin.” It truly lives up to the name as well. Tractor pulls, fair rides, a softball tournament. Even a cheese curd throwing contest. An almost too perfect encompassment of what one might imagine if prompted to picture “summer in the Badger State.”
It had been several years since I had last been in town for the event. Even so, not much has changed. Even going back to my elementary school days. I suppose as the saying goes, “if it ain’t broke…” I can remember as a kid being somewhat methodical in my choice of carnival games. I knew I was only allotted a few attempts, so I needed to make the most of it. I’d scour the various booths, taking into account prize pool, difficulty, and fun factor before making the ultimate decision. Usually I weighed the criteria in that order; it was all about winning that plastic katana or knock-off lightsaber. Unfortunately, neither of those typically survived longer than the weekend itself.
The best prize I won was a giant, inflatable hammer that was infinitely more durable than many of the other prizes I had acquired over the years. I don’t know if my siblings particularly enjoyed it, but ah well. They could have just as easily won the giant hammer themselves, so it’s not my fault.
(Also, sidenote, as I just realized this while writing. Is it concerning that so many of the prizes I chose were seemingly picked with the singular purpose of them being used to engage in mortal combat with my younger brothers? Eh…I’m sure it’s fine.)
Cheese Days was also one of my first opportunities for independence in middle school. Living out in the country, I couldn’t really go too many places of my own accord, as most of my friends lived too far away. And when we did hang out, it was mostly at each other’s homes. But Cheese Days gave us an opportunity to run around somewhere without all that annoying parental supervision, real or imagined.
You’d also get to meet up with classmates that you hadn’t seen all summer, which was pretty cool as well. I can remember hanging around the midway with a couple friends, hoping that the girl I had a crush on would show up, because obviously it would be horrible if I just…I don’t know, asked her if she was planning on coming.
She did eventually show up, much to my great elation, and her group of friends and mine perused the rides and games for a decent time. Of course, me being myself and all, I pretty much spent the whole time not saying much of anything, much to my later mortification and my current amusement.
Even years later, as we all went on our separate paths, Cheese Days served as a way to reconvene with those whom I hadn’t seen over the course of my college school year. It was always good to connect with old friends and I appreciate the opportunity that such an event afforded us at that time.
As time went on, there were fewer familiar faces, and the reasons for going began to dwindle. I myself became one of those whose life would take them away from attending.
But this year I was back, and while my latest experience was more a checklist of information gathering and photo taking, there was still some time to catch up with friends and family.
I went to the parade, where my knowledge that you don’t want to be anywhere near my dad when the squirt guns and water hoses arrive came in handy. (My poor nana, on the other hand, had to learn that lesson the hard way, as her own son dodged out of the way of a blast of water meant for him as he stood directly in front of her). I got to speak with a lot of people that I hadn’t seen in a while and see where life had taken them. Good times to be had, for certain.
Just as it had always been. And that’s something that is maybe even more “Wisconsin” than the cheese curd throw or the tractor pulls. It’s that sense of community that permeates through all of these events and activities. That you can meet and chat with anyone from your best friend to some long lost acquaintance.
I missed that a little, I think, even if I didn’t know it. So it was good to be back.
A C ertain Point of V iew
