Where else are chickens wearing wigs?

In this Xbox and iPod world, when young people would rather swap music files and play Grand Theft Auto than swap baseball cards and play kickball, it's refreshing to see a return to wholesome, all-American activities.

I'm talking about real family fun such as, say, dressing up a live chicken in a mermaid costume, complete with tiny blond wig, and putting it in a contest against another chicken wearing a fur cape and feather boa.

That's the kind of thing kids were enjoying Saturday at the 148th annual SEMO District Fair. The chickens seemed to be enjoying it far less, but hey, they could have just as well been entered in the Poultry Recipe Contest -- another fair favorite -- so they were keeping their beaks shut about it.

I knew I had to go to the Poultry and Rabbit Dress-Up Contest as soon as I saw the fair contest rule book. The prizes: $5 for first in each category, $3 for second and $2 for third.

In short, a participant would go through the trouble of making a chicken-sized costume, transporting the bird to the fair, getting her inside the outfit and then, when it all was said and done, would walk away with $5 or less.

Obviously, this contest wasn't about winning cash.

It was about taking pride in your poultry.

Fewer than 10 rabbits entered. But there were plenty of chickens, geese and a pigeon or two. They waited anxiously through the rabbit competition, anticipating their moment to shine.

Jennifer Stahlman of Gordonville kept a firm grasp on Cruella De Vil, her Polish crested rooster. Cruella was just his drag name. In regular life, he's Fluffyhead, named for his sizable black-and-white plume.

"Is that chicken for eating or just having?" I asked.

"It's a rooster," Jennifer said.

She explained how she and her mom went to the fabric shop for rabbit skin to make the cape and a little feather trim to make the boa. A basket of stuffed Dalmatian puppies completed the look.

But Fluffyhead didn't immediately appreciate the beauty of his new outfit.

"He was a little restless when we were getting him dressed," said Jennifer, who is 10. Fluffyhead crowed loudly.

On a set of bleachers across the arena, a couple of geese were much calmer. One was an easy-to-handle baby. The other one had a hat over his eyes, which owner Scott Jahn said made him docile.

The two were dressed in camouflage as a father-and-son duck hunting team, complete with straw hats, trimmed capes and little matching foot covers.

"I raised them from babies," said Scott, 14, who seemed a little embarrassed by the attention. "They know me. But they still don't like it when they have this kind of stuff on."

As if to emphasize the point, the father goose projectile pooped from the top bleacher. I moved just in time.

A nearby banty hen, shown by Paige Kain and Kassidy Hawkins of Cape Girardeau, wore a tiny Winnie the Pooh costume, complete with a "hunny" pot glued to the fabric. Only the chicken's face showed.

I asked the girls' mother, Jenny Hawkins, how you get a hen into a Pooh costume.

"You use Velcro and cram it in there," she said. She assured me the costume came off the second the judging was over.

Pooh took third and Cruella took first in the nursery rhyme category. I'm not sure what made either of those nursery rhymes, but hey, this is a chicken dress-up contest. Scott's geese won third in the original category.

My favorite, Chicken of the Sea, took best in show. She was wearing a mermaid flipper from the waist down and a wig on her head.

That bird had a lot of moxie. She deserved to win.

Heidi Hall is managing editor of the Southeast Missourian.