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It’s that time again. That magical, mystical time. Known to Minnesotans far and wide as The Great Minnesota Get Together.

In other words, State Fair time.

I like our state fair. It’s a pretty large one, by state fair standards. But it’s surreal. Where else can one:

• eat things both fried and on a stick
• look at art mosaics made of corn kernels
• see the head of Princess Kay of the Milky Way carved out of butter
• go into a giant two-story building that has hundreds of random crap for sale ranging from shoes, collector coins, antiques, cleaning products, and jewelry
• look at all different kinds of farm animals (including my mom’s favorite: the bunnies)
• learn what the hell 4H is.
• see giant tractors (on Machinery Hill, natch)
• and a bunch of other weird stuff for anyone still with me

They have music too, which is usually bands like Styx, Rosanne Cash, and Winger.

But this year the Bottle Rockets are playing. The Bottle Rockets rule. Especially Brian Henneman, who used to be a guitar tech for Uncle Tupelo back in the day and recorded a few songs with Jay and Jeff. Brian sometimes still opens up for Jay. Which he did last time I saw them.

He’s got a song called Wave That Flag that is the most eloquent reasoning for why the confederate flag is inappropriate in this day and age. And I paraphrase:

Wave that flag, boys, wave it high
Remember how they fought, remember how they died
Wave that flag, boys, [lost to the ether]
If another person owned your ass, how’d you feel?

An unrelated note: Israel won its first gold medal last night. I’ll admit it, I teared up. Too cool.

I have some disappointing news on the Secret War of the Claires. I thought I’d won the war, but I only won a battle. Ms. dot com is on top again. Dammit!