The power of free at the fair

“Everyone should work the fair at least once,” proclaimed a friend. The life, she said, of the Canfield Fair is something best experienced as a worker.

The people — good and bad.

The food — good and bad.

The weather — good and bad.

The pace — good and bad.

I put myself to work at the fair this week, and I get what she says.

I worked the Vindy’s fair booth, I judged a cooking competition, and I worked a bit with my son, who was selling ice at the fair.

Go to my blog online to read about the pounds of pineapple I ate and the pounds of ice I sold.

The price and power of free is my lingering work memory.

The Vindicator has a tent at the fair, and two of our big freebies are orange plastic bags and Youngstown State University football tickets.

I’m amazed every year at how popular the bags are. They’re in every corner of the fairgrounds.

But more amazing is the appeal of the YSU tickets and the fervor of those who get them and the anger and disappointment of those who don’t.

We give away 80 or so tickets a day. The number varies each year based on the advertising program we engage in with YSU. That’s a yearly debate, as is the value of us doing the free tickets at all, because people are equally testy and thrilled.

One justification offered every year is that like clockwork, a hundred or more people line up every day, every year — in heat, in rain, in anticipation — for tickets that they can get, with any of the million or so coupons in the Valley, for about 6 bucks apiece. With that loyalty, we ultimately do it.

This year’s ticket giveaway was each day at 4:30, and on Thursday (my day), the first people lined up at 3:45 — 45 minutes before the giveaway. By 3:50, 10 people were in line, and by 4 p.m., there were 20 people — half of our ticket commitments.

By about 4:10, I started my walk to the end of the line.

I do an unofficial count to give folks at the end of the line an honest assessment of their chances at tickets. As there are 40 ticket pairs to give away, I anointed person No. 38 as likely the last ticket person (to account for a spouse or two in the shade or in the restroom).

After that person, I anointed the next 10 folks as possible ticket folks. The next 10 after that are anointed likely impossible ticket folks. Surprisingly, those folks linger regardless, which I chalk up to my darling personality.

We’re not supposed to give away tickets till 4:30. But by 4:22, with no one budging from line and several older ladies cowering in the asphalt heat, I launched the Thursday giveaway.

Two minutes later, by 4:24, the tickets were gone.

When the “possible” and the “likely impossible” folks got to the head of the line, we all laughed a bit, and they were good sports about losing out on the lottery.

Also good sports were many of the people who arrived at 4:25 and afterward looking for tickets and learning they were gone. Folks kept arriving till 4:45.

I gave them a quick lesson (that I will share with everyone now):

1) If there is a free fair giveaway at an announced time, show up 45 minutes before the posted time.

2) Read item 1.

Difficult to teach, however, are the couple of folks who arrived at 4:30 and thrust their coupons at me and berated me with “IT SAYS 4:30.”

I looked at the one lady and said she still wasn’t getting them unless she was here at 4 p.m. Forget what I did, I said, you showed up at 4:30 when you needed to be here at 4 o’clock.

She walked away in a huff, my last image being the back side of her hand being thrust in the air.

We’ll likely do YSU tickets again next year. I’ll likely work the booth, too.

And for that day, please remember Rule 1.