Thursday was a fun work day. All morning long, coworkers – many of them strangers I have never met – were messaging me to let me know I had made their day.
All because of a rock.
Every Monday and Thursday, we send out a newsletter to all CheeseGov employees. Our most popular feature is the Show Us Your Pets segment, which allows staff to – you guessed it! – show off their pets.
It took a lot of brainstorming to come up with that name, guys.
Back in February, Laverne and Shirley were featured. Which is par for the course: the overwhelming majority of submissions are cats and dogs. We’ve been doing this for over a year now, and while there are a lot of pet owners within the agency, at some point we were bound to run out of furry companions to highlight. That finally happened this week.
“No worries,” I told Randy, the internal comms yin to my external comms yang. “I got this.”
Back in 2013, I “adopted” a Pet Rock from a vintage store in Portland. As a lover of all things ’70s (the kitschier, the better), I was thrilled with this purchase. For the past twelve years, he has resided on one shelf or another, in one basement or another.
This is what happens when you keep moving.
I’ve always thought the Pet Rock was a genius marketing gimmick. In 1975, advertising executive Gary Dahl came up with the idea after hearing friends complain about the work and expense involved in caring for their pets. He took an ordinary rock, packaged it in a cardboard box with ventilation holes and straw bedding that resembled a pet carrier, sold 1.5 million in six months, and laughed all the way to the bank, where he deposited his millions of dollars.
Good for you, Gary!
Up until yesterday, my Pet Rock never even had a name. But I wanted to seize the opportunity to flex my creative muscles and have a little fun, so I christened him Barney for the newsletter and ran with it.
So, yeah. Fun little writeup, and it seemed to resonate with a lot of folks. I’m calling that a win.
Should’ve gotten the corndog.
As if all that excitement wasn’t enough, after work we set out for one of my favorite events of the year: the Jefferson County Fair. I look forward to this every year. We don’t even bother with the rides or games; to me, it’s all about the vibe.
The vibe, it turns out, was a stormy one this year.
We wisely waited for the thunderstorm to pass before heading to the fair. We wisely brought along an umbrella in case the rain returned. Midway through the midway, the clouds were gathering again, so Tara said she’d head to the grandstand to snag us a seat under the covered bleachers while I found something to eat. While standing in line, the heavens opened up again. That’s when my phone buzzed.
Guess I should have left the umbrella with you, Tara had texted.
Doh! That wasn’t so wise. I stood there in the pouring rain, getting soaked, while Tara was comfy and dry and had the umbrella. I inched closer to the tent, hoping for some meager protection from the elements, but instead got even wetter as rainwater cascaded from the awning. I would’ve beat a hasty retreat for cover, but I had already ordered my food.
That food, by the way, was my second mistake. I originally planned on getting a gyro, but I thought it would be too messy, so I opted for a chicken burrito instead. Figured it would be portable, easy to handle, and the tortilla would neatly contain the fillings. Which would have been true if they hadn’t cut the damn thing in half, which caused the meat and salsa and juices to dribble down my fingers and hands with every bite. Adding insult to injury, the paper towels they had set out were soaked through from the rain. By the time I reached the grandstand, I was drenched and shivering, and had to power my way through a very messy burrito. I couldn’t even finish it because the tortilla eventually became too soggy to hold.
At that point, I asked myself, who orders a burrito at a fair anyway?! I should have gone for something more traditional, aka, fried and/or on a stick. Like a corn dog. Would’ve been a helluva lot easier to eat, that’s for sure.
Despite these fails, we had a good time, as always. The livestock and 4-H exhibits never disappoint, the people-watching is prime, and the open stock truck pulling event – while not quite as exciting as last year’s tractor pulling, which enthralled me so – was still entertaining. There’s something primal about the belching diesel smoke, the animal-like growl of the engines, the way the grandstand bleachers shake as the trucks plow their way across the muddy track with a heavy drag in tow.
We even caught the tail end of a Bon Jovi tribute band, though I was confused when they segued from “Livin’ on a Prayer” to “Pour Some Sugar on Me,” which is decidedly not a Bon Jovi song.
Def Leppard > Bon Jovi anyway. I’ll die on that hill.
Wandering through the exhibits, Tara had an epiphany. Dazzled by all those shiny blue ribbons, she said, “I should enter a jam or salsa next year. Or maybe a temperature blanket.”
“Wait a second,” I replied. “Anybody can exhibit at the fair? Even the general public?”
“Of course!” she affirmed.
Suddenly, my own wheels were turning. I have never won a trophy or ribbon in my life. It might be cool to have one. I looked around at the exhibits. Spotted a plate with maybe half a dozen raspberries on it. Not even artfully arranged; they were just sitting there, looking all plump and red. Seriously?! If that’s all it takes to win a ribbon, well, we’ve got a veritable orchard full of raspberries we’ve been plucking for weeks now. Blueberries, too. I could throw a handful on a plate and walk away a winner in 2026!
Really though, if I’m going to participate, I’d like to enter the photography competition. My technical knowledge is limited – the only darkroom I have been in is one with the lights out, and I couldn’t tell you what an f-stop does if my life depended on it – but I have a pretty good eye. And that’s 75% of photography right there.
Team MarTar is going to take the 2026 Jefferson County Fair by storm, mark my words!
And when I go to pick up my ribbons, you can bet your ass I’ll be eating a corn dog instead of a burrito.
Do you attend your county and/or state fair? Would you order a burrito there? Have you ever won a blue ribbon or trophy? Def Leppard or Bon Jovi?
Mark My Words 
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