Some of my favorite words have always started with the letter “F.” Fun. Football. Fugazi. And now—fair. There’s just something about it. The way the word punches the air like it’s ready to grab summer by the neck and say, “We’re not done yet.” It’s one syllable of pure unfiltered Americana, smothered in dust, diesel, funnel cake grease, and unspoken small-town pride. And when the Merrick County…