LA County Fair was cooler (brrr!) than ever in 2023 with May gray

Almost before we knew it, the 101st L.A. County Fair is over. The fair ran May 5 to 29, its second year as a spring fling rather than a late summer swelter.

The weather contrast is striking. In 2019, the last September fair, opening day was 110 degrees. This year it was 61 degrees, or almost 50 degrees cooler.

I wore a jacket on my two visits and saw a lot of other fairgoers in long sleeves, sweatshirts and quilted vests, a far cry from the tank tops and shorts of September fairs.

“We didn’t keep track of temps,” fair spokesperson Renee Hernandez told me, “but it could’ve been the coolest fair on record. Despite the need for a light jacket or sweater, we heard many comments on how nice the weather was. People still remember the 100-degree temperatures we experienced in September! May is so much nicer.”

Fair officials say guests and vendors are also adjusting to the May schedule, instituted in 2022.

I can back them up to the extent that a lot of readers asked me the reasoning behind the schedule change in 2022, despite its having been explained in these pages on many occasions, and only two asked in 2023.

To one who recently asked me on social media “why did they change the time of the fair,” my answer was this: “Because it’s 110 degrees in September and nobody was showing up until after 4 p.m.”

“Our attendance shows that people are understanding the fair has permanently moved to May, and they are loving it,” Walter Marquez, president and CEO, said in a news release. “Guests stayed longer, just like last year. I think part of that is due to the fun they are experiencing and, of course, the favorable weather.”

Nielsen Martinez, left, and Johnny Ricardo, right, both from Rialto, show their excitement -- and their long sleeves -- as they ride the twisting Tango on opening day of the 101st LA County Fair on May. 5. The temperature at the opening was 61 degrees, a far cry from when the fair took place in September. (Photo by Will Lester, Inland Valley Daily Bulletin/SCNG)
Nielsen Martinez, left, and Johnny Ricardo, right, both from Rialto, show their excitement — and their long sleeves — as they ride the twisting Tango on opening day of the 101st LA County Fair on May. 5. The temperature at the opening was 61 degrees, a far cry from when the fair took place in September. (Photo by Will Lester, Inland Valley Daily Bulletin/SCNG)

What was the attendance? According to the fair’s preliminary count, 717,815.

That’s up from 635,421 in 2022, the first year back from the pandemic, and is just shy of the 731,817 seen in 2019. (Keep that number in mind.)

Worth noting for statisticians is that 2019’s fair was 19 days and 2023’s was 16. That means average daily attendance was higher in 2023.

Crowds were also spread more evenly: In an attempt to keep people from bunching up the last week or two of the fair, admission the first two weekends was cheaper than the last two. That seemed to have done the trick.

“With our new calendar pricing philosophy,” Hernandez said, “attendance was distributed throughout the 16 days, creating a pleasant experience for guests, with no one day fully impacted.”

Now, about the numbers. As recently as 2019, the fair would routinely tout attendance of 1.1 million or more. Last year’s count of 635,000 was barely more than half of that. What gives?

Basically, fair officials decided to stop juicing the numbers.

Now, the fair only counts paid attendance. Until a few years ago, “anyone who came through the gates was counted,” including some 50,000 students, other free admissions and even seasonal staff, Hernandez told me in April. That inflated the official attendance figures significantly.

Former CEO Miguel Santana, who arrived in 2017 and was previously the city of L.A.’s budget officer, squeezed the air out of the numbers like a suitcase packing cube, a practice that has continued under Marquez, who became CEO in 2021.

Note that the official count for 2019 is now said to be 737,000, or about 400,000 less than the 1.1 million touted at the time.

Years ago we used to print daily attendance counts supplied by the fair. We were guileless about it. These were the official numbers, after all.

I guess we should have expected ballyhoo from an event that literally employs carnival barkers.

“Miguel was big on transparency. Walter has the same philosophy,” Hernandez told me. “They’re looking more at the actual paid attendance. That’s a true representation of our attendance.” She added: “The board wanted better transparency. The county wanted better transparency. It just made sense.”

While 1 million-plus visitors might have sounded impressive, there was no financial benefit from a seven-digit number, Hernandez said. Possibly the opposite, if people decided to stay home because the fair sounded too crowded.

“Whether we have 500,000 or we have 1 million, people are having a great time. It’s their county fair,” Hernandez reasoned. “Does that number mean anything to a fairgoer?”

I hope not. They might demand almost 100 years of newspaper corrections.

Thummer the pig

Speaking of the fair, my column on the 75th anniversary of the fair’s cheerful pig mascot, Thummer, drew cheerful comment.

“I’ve always enjoyed Thummer. He is such a wonderful fair mascot,” said Linda Takeuchi.

Three of you, all named Susan (surnamed Vander Molen, Purdy and Shunk, respectively), told me about Thummer figures, mugs or stickers in their collections, some bought at antique stores or estate sales.

Roger Simon, a volunteer with the Rail Giants Train Museum at the fairgrounds, said of Thummer: “He’s been an enduring presence at the L.A. County Fair, but I hadn’t realized he’s been around three-quarters of a century. We’ve been on the fairgrounds 69 years and Thummer has us beat!”

“Thank you so much on your article on the L.A. County Fair pig created by my grandfather, Morris Stewart,” wrote Stacy-Sue Wagner. “Brought back fond memories.”

Ken Robison told me something similar, but for a more whimsical reason.

His family has owned a cardboard cutout of Thummer since the 1950s. His late father, Jim, started a family prank in which whoever had possession of the pig would “secretly hide it in the car or handbag or suitcase or desk drawer” of a family member whenever they got together. It might also show up by mail inside a package with no return address.

“That recipient,” Ken said, “had been officially Pigged.”

At this moment, said Ken, a retired newspaperman in Fresno County, “I don’t know who has The Pig. But I’m sure it will pop up somewhere — Chino Hills, Redlands, Pomona, Selma, Pasadena, Tucson, Oshkosh or St. Louis.”

His sister Linda in Chino Hills sent him my column. She did not send him The Pig, who remains at large.

David Allen is sighted here Sunday, Wednesday and Friday. Email dallen@scng.com, phone 909-483-9339, like davidallencolumnist on Facebook and follow @davidallen909 on Twitter.