Showtime

It’s Show time here on the Fraser Coast again, which naturally means we’ve all been expecting rain.

Although I have absolutely no intention of setting foot anywhere near the Maryborough Showgrounds over the two day period, I’ve allowed myself a little walk down memory lane.

This first pic is of my nanna and poppie with their oldest child and my dad as a baby. As he was born in April 1939 this photo dates back quite a bit.

cook family show 1939

I’m (quite frankly) a bit disappointed that the dress standard has now slipped and think that a bit of class could be reinstated with a new dress code.

And… I’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t have made the height restrictions on any of the rides… being 1mth old and all!

* In unrelated news, isn’t my poppie a handsome man?!

PicMonkey Collage show1These could be my first two visits to the Maryborough Show (obviously when it was still being held in the Pallas Street Showgrounds – now home to peeps who dressed like those in the first picture).

I just hafta say though… WTF is with the guy in the second picture?! Perhaps my mum, taking the picture, was a bit dishy back then.

PicMonkey Collage show 2

Obviously by 1973 I’d been able to ditch my older brother who – I must add – was a bit of a wuss when it came to showrides. We have a home movie of a pre-teen me getting off a ride called The Zipper, with one of my brother’s best friends. My brother was nowhere to be seen.

PicMonkey Collage show3Although I remember my velvet phase fondly, I’m a tad embarrassed about the other pics. I was a bit of a basketballer back in the day and started getting bored with scary fast rides around the same time I realised I was good at the basketball game – despite its rigged weighted balls. Fortunately this coincided with the realisation the laughing clowns and their ping pong balls were a waste of friggin’ time! Suddenly it was all about the spoils!

The Show had moved to its current location by the final pics and although I was a HUGE lover of the show in my younger years, I gave the whole thing a big miss in my final year of school. In retrospect, I moved through all of the phases:

  • hooking things with fishing lines, merry-go-rounds and kids’ school displays and competitions
  • scary rides like the whizzer, zipper, octopus and matterhorn, showbags; and as much fairy floss and waffle thingys as you can manage (without them making a return appearance after the aforementioned rides!)
  • wearing new clothes, hanging out with friends and hoping to see the cute boys (which coincided with my fluffy toy fetish!)
  • too bloody old and concerned about human error!

The last time I attended the Maryborough Show was in the early – mid 1990s. My aunt was in town (for a family funeral) and we wandered about with my parents looking at boring stuff animals, cooking, cars and the like. We skipped the dagwood dogs in favour of a steak sandwich and left before the fireworks. But what I most remember, is that my aunt, mother and I decided to go on the matterhorn. For old time’s sake. 

And. Oh. My. God. The fearless me of my childhood had long departed. I felt ill and found my eyes glued to the ride’s machinations (nuts and bolts ‘n’ stuff) wondering who’d screwed them together. Plus… I was almost sick afterwards.

I realised that the Show of my childhood had long disappeared. It was someone else’s turn.

Just as I suspect there are teenagers and young adults ‘dissing’ the Fraser Coast Show this year, I’m sure there are as many five, six and seven year olds out there whose Christmases have all come at once!

*Actual info about the Fraser Coast Show can be found here! There is – as usual – heaps on for those with kids or an interest in livestock, cooking and a myriad of other events.

 

 

 

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5 thoughts on “Showtime

  1. aregularcupofjo says:

    Great article and I loved all the pictures. It must be such a trip down memory lane to see all of this. I recently went to the carnival as well and did not have the same kind of courage as I did as a kid. I was more concerned if the ride was going to fall apart than actually enjoying it.

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