SAVING THE STATE FAIR ISN'T THAT COMPLICATED



South Dakotans who don't subscribe to a weekly paper probably don't have the opportunity to read a regular column written by Secretary of Agriculture Larry Gabriel. The daily editors figure it would be too cozy with government if they ran his Pravda-style feeding of information so they would rather have their reporters call him on the phone and make him think on-the-spot and then misquote his spontaneous ramblings. Weekly editors are too busy to worry about journalist ethnics and they have space to fill so they use it, and I must say that the column is interesting. Sometimes he even quotes philosophers.

His last column, which we found in the venerable Wessington Springs True Dakotan, gives Secretary Gabriel's vision for the future of the State Fair: "Our state fair could be a real launching pad for agricultural marketing and development. Consider this: suppose the last few days of the state fair were focused exclusively on agricultural marketing; suppose the entire tarmac were covered with a farmer's market instead of a carnival; suppose you could go to a booth and meet the grain buyer from Japan, or Korea, or China and visit with them about what they want in a product; suppose international shippers and carriers were there; suppose .... I'm not done yet. Someday you are going to come to the State Fair again for a whole new set of reasons."

Thanks, Sec. Gabriel. Thanks especially for caring about the State Fair. It is a very old and important part of our summer heritage in South Dakota.

We don't mean to be flippant but hopefully they'll leave space for the beer tents. Like it or not, the entertainment venues that are successful these days always have a big open air beer tent or two. It's just a fact. I bet it would even help attract the Japanese grain buyers. Planning parties isn't nearly as complicated as some of the bureaucrats are making it out to be: FOOD. MUSIC. BEER. Like it or not, most people learn that in high school and it has been true since festivals were originated thousands of years ago.

We review a lot of books here at the magazine, some pretty good and then those others. But every now and then, one really catches your attention.

Dennis Sampson was raised in Pierre and educated at SDSU but left like so many others. He ended up teaching at Wake Forest in North Carolina. In 2001, his father was fighting cancer at St. Mary's Hospital in Pierre so Dennis came home and spent a lot of time here. His dad eventually died and Dennis wrote about the experience and his subsequent journey in a book of poems titled For My Father: Falling Asleep at Saint Mary's Hospital. He's quite a writer. In the introduction he writes, "My father returned from surgery hopeful that his life would go on forever. That kind of hope in the dying makes you wonder if you know anything."

We let a good poet get away. Here's just a short excerpt:

mother and father in this photograph look
so young. What a beautiful life she'll have with this man
already bald at thirty. Then here they are, old and sentimental.
ravaged by children and doubt about what to do with a daughter
wanting to borrow money, a restless son who gets drunk
and drives the Pontiac around in the dark. How fragile
they've become after years of being here on this planet,
accepted without questioning –– one with a hearing aid, fastidious,
vacuuming and scrubbing, spraying the tabletops with Pledge,
the other refusing to explain about the knee that makes her wince
when she's just sitting. Their lives are so intertwined
separation through death would be a crime. And yet one must go ––
the other struggles briefly to survive.

Brookings voters decided Tuesday to use city tax dollars to lure Lowe's to the community. Whether or not taxpayers should recruit and subsidize "big box" retailing as economic development has been a hot topic in that town. The vote was very close. Emotions are running high. After the vote, one merchant made this comment to KELO television: "Imagine someone taking the money you paid in taxes and giving it to someone with more money than you to compete against you."

Economic development once involved sending our leaders around the country, hat in hand, asking big corporations to put satellite manufacturing plants and offices here. Gov. Joe Foss started it all in South Dakota. The war hero pilot didn't care for the details of government but he excelled at flying around the United States, asking CEOs if they wouldn't like to do a little business and some pheasant hunting in South Dakota. Every governor since has made it a priority.

But these days the manufacturing expansions are going overseas so we sense that the economic development folks and the governors are testing new waters. In South Dakota, we've finally gotten around to value-added ag processing. Some even talk about helping existing businesses expand. Tourism is getting new respect, too.

On the same night that Brookings citizens were voting, the Yankton City Commission basically gave the Georgia-owned Yankton Daily Press & Dakotan a square block of land to build a new headquarters. The city set a low price of $200,000 and then figured out some ways to give it all back. The P&D didn't say they were adding employees or planning to pay higher wages or even add more pages to the paper so a lot of people in Yankton are wondering why they were able to take the city to the cleaners? Maybe they threatened to move the newspaper to India or someplace?

George McGovern, who writes a book or more a year these days, gave the Sunday morning address at Kevin Costner's Tatanka cultural center. It was outdoors on a fresh, foggy mountain morning. Even the young people were huddling for warmth. But McGovern, passionate about his lifelong committment to ending world hunger, didn't seem to notice the weather.

The son of a Methodist minister told the crowd that since they probably missed church he would do some sermonizing. "Faith without works is not enough," he said, quoting a book he didn't write. He challenged everyone to do what they can to end hunger. Specifically, he asked the crowd to support the Worldwide School Lunch program that he has proposed with his old friend Bob Dole. He also wants support for a worldwide WIC program for expectant mothers and mothers with infants.

Both conservatives and liberals in the audience gave him a warm mountain morning reception. He has finally gained the respect of a vast majority of South Dakotans. This is a man who seems to know something about patience. He probably read it somewhere. And then he lived it for 80-plus years.

"we glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; And patience, experience; and experience, hope" (Romans 5:1-4 KJV)

One of the most interesting panel discussions at the Book Festival turned out to be a discussion with West River authors Dan O'Brien, Linda Hasselstrom and Kent Meyers. It was supposed to be about the land and literature, but with some audience help it quickly became a debate over land use.

Most reasonable South Dakotans would agree with l) the fact that the land should be preserved and conserved, and 2) property owners should have the right to do what they want with their land.

Dan O'Brien pointed out, however, that in today's capitalistic society those two values are not always compatible. I think the Greeks referred to such dilemmas as Contradictory Ideals. The three authors and the audience didn't quite settle the issue during the 90-minute discussion, but the festival organizers probably heard enough to know that it's a topic worth revisiting. It stirs passions on all sides.

Although South Dakota State University has the journalism school, a lot of good writers have taught and/or studied at the University of South Dakota –– and one of the most talented and irreverent of them all is Pete Dexter, who graduated from USD in the late 1960s. He was one of the star attractions at this year's book festival in Deadwood. Here are some Dexterisms.

On doubting his own work: "There are days I go back and look at a book and think I copied it from someone else. I'm not that confident (as the writer must have been); and I'm a little insecure too."

On being typecast: "I don't think about it. Some things come at you like a baseball bat flying at your head and you don't think about them for very long."

On winning the National Book Award: "It was my night -- but you don't really believe you've written the best book. You don't want to get too high when things are good and you don't want to get as low as I do."

On his use of tension in novels: "To say you have to work at adding the tension suggests there is life without tension."

On literary critics: "Of all the bad things you can do in the world, writing a bad book isn't one of them."

The South Dakota Book Festival held last weekend in Deadwood was a rousing success. It was the third annual, and the sponsors –– especially the South Dakota Humanities Council and the state's Center for the Book –– have always staged a fine event. But this year's festival, held in historic downtown Deadwood, seemed to have something special.

This is a unique gathering of readers and writers. Until we had one of our own, I didn't realize book festivals were a world of their own ... not unlike quarterhorse shows and china painters's conventions and Corvette rallies. An entire culture has grown around such events. But books are more affordable and at least equally as rewarding as quarterhorses and Corvettes, so you would expect a more diverse audience.

The visiting writers, who attend a lot of book festivals, and those readers who've attended in other states, say the South Dakota festival is really carving a niche for itself. Next year's festival will be in downtown Sioux Falls. There's nothing quite like it, we promise. Make a mental note to attend.

Photo: Most sessions were held indoors, but a Sunday morning session was held at Kevin Costner's non-profit Tatanka heritage center above Deadwood.

People can't be honest unless you give them the opportunity. While driving to the Black Hills via Highway 46/18 last Friday, I found evidence of a Charles Mix County farmer who does just that. He pulled a wagonload of pumpkins and melons out along the highway (east of Wagner), taped a price on each, and chained a metal cash box to the wheel spokes. The farmer was nowhere in sight.

But if the farmer thought his fellow man was completely honest he wouldn't have chained down the cash box.