The meaning of fair week

The Ohio State Fair has more competitions than you can shake a corn dog stick at.

• The top Christmas tree in July? Sure. The best container garden constructed inside a shoe? You bet.

• You can also find honey from Perrysburg, quilts from Wooster and a painted farmscape on a saw from Hebron inside the contest halls.

The big picture: This is the embodiment of the state fair, which brings together our 88 counties' best artists, animal trainers and ideas together in creative harmony.

Yes, but: Life is not all sunshine and deep-fried oreos. It's complicated and increasingly political.

• Rides are operating under new safety protocols enacted after a guest was killed in a 2017 accident.
• And fairgoers are allowed to carry weapons in light of a new state law that removed concealed carry permit and training requirements.

Zoom in: A mosaic in the Fine Arts Exhibition by local artist David Lane portrays a pandemic-related press conference made out of 3D-printed pieces shaped like coronaviruses.

• Other works depict Black Lives Matter protesters and anti-Islamophobia themes.

Between the lines: Many fair buildings are named after former governors. There will almost certainly be one named for Gov. Mike DeWine, who loves fairs more than Woody Hayes loved winning.

• DeWine fielded reporters' questions after the opening ceremony Wednesday and interjected when the first query dealt with abortion policies.

• "You win the prize for breaking the spell of the Ohio State Fair," he joked.

💭 Tyler's thought bubble: The fair is less an escape from the realities of Ohio life than it is a premier showcase of it, brilliance and complexities and all.

• When I hear the youth band play "Stars and Stripes Forever," written by a homesick John Philip Sousa on a ship back to America, I feel a swell of pride for my state and country.
• Then I see the Columbus skyline in the horizon and find myself wishing the harmony extended beyond the fairground gates.