Our town is hosting it's 80th annual fair. Went last night with the fam. Wanted to share a few observations.
Tilt-a-Whirl is still a classic ride. And at its best when ridden with your dad on one side, your five year old in the middle, and yourself on the other side.
When you offer the little monkey money for its picture, you should not have a bit of funnel cake in your other hand. The monkey will want both.
Once you reach a certain age, rides with names like "The Predator" will each your lunch. And you will lose yours sooner than you would have ever believed.
Amazingly, the prizes you coveted in younger days look exactly like the definition of "CRAP" when you are older.
Avoid the deep-fried twinkies. Trust me on this.
When you are a moody teen girl, and you only go with your family because you feel like you "have to" because your bff won't be there, do not despair: There will be a never-ending line of two or more people from your school that want you to hang out with them. Boys will be bolder. You will get your allowance + a full complement of ride tickets and not be forced to hang with the fam for more than a bit. You will have a fine evening in spite of your initial assumption.
When you are an older teen girl there with your boyfriend, and you accept a job babysitting someone's 1-yo daughter, everyone you know will think you got married and had a baby while they weren't looking. This will annoy you.
Funnel cakes are manna from the heavens.
The boy scout troup makes KICK-ASS ice cream.
The games are rigged. There is no way you can shoot the star out of the piece of paper. Fucking games. And don't even ask about the fucking basketball hoops.
Bumper cars never ever go out of style.
No matter how much you try not to, you will stop at the stage to watch the teenage cloggers when they are on. It may be for a few seconds, but you will stop and marvel that someone that young is doing it.
Did I mention stay the HELL away from the fried twinkies?
The deep-fried Milky Ways didn't look too friendly, either.
People you have not seen in months will inexplicably find you and want to catch up on your personal news. This will cause you both to stand directly in the path of approximately 1200 other people wanting to go to the bumper cars. This will happen about three dozen times during the course of the evening.
Local bar bands on the main stage will consider this gig one of the best of the year. You will not care.
There will be enough dust on the fairgrounds that you will think you're inhaling Oklahoma circa 1931.
The livestock pavilion is good for a quick runthrough if you have a young child with you. She will hold her nose and decide never to join FFA. You will be thankful.
During the course of the evening, you will be struck by the wonderful sense of consistency of it all. For 80 years, these same types of rides and booths and shows have been going on. Your father's father took him to something like this. He took you. You take your daughter. As a young man, you held the hand of your girlfriend as you walked here. Now you hold your wife's hand. It's a good thing. A touchpoint for who you are and where you are. And next year you will stay away from the damn twinkies.
Tilt-a-Whirl is still a classic ride. And at its best when ridden with your dad on one side, your five year old in the middle, and yourself on the other side.
When you offer the little monkey money for its picture, you should not have a bit of funnel cake in your other hand. The monkey will want both.
Once you reach a certain age, rides with names like "The Predator" will each your lunch. And you will lose yours sooner than you would have ever believed.
Amazingly, the prizes you coveted in younger days look exactly like the definition of "CRAP" when you are older.
Avoid the deep-fried twinkies. Trust me on this.
When you are a moody teen girl, and you only go with your family because you feel like you "have to" because your bff won't be there, do not despair: There will be a never-ending line of two or more people from your school that want you to hang out with them. Boys will be bolder. You will get your allowance + a full complement of ride tickets and not be forced to hang with the fam for more than a bit. You will have a fine evening in spite of your initial assumption.
When you are an older teen girl there with your boyfriend, and you accept a job babysitting someone's 1-yo daughter, everyone you know will think you got married and had a baby while they weren't looking. This will annoy you.
Funnel cakes are manna from the heavens.
The boy scout troup makes KICK-ASS ice cream.
The games are rigged. There is no way you can shoot the star out of the piece of paper. Fucking games. And don't even ask about the fucking basketball hoops.
Bumper cars never ever go out of style.
No matter how much you try not to, you will stop at the stage to watch the teenage cloggers when they are on. It may be for a few seconds, but you will stop and marvel that someone that young is doing it.
Did I mention stay the HELL away from the fried twinkies?
The deep-fried Milky Ways didn't look too friendly, either.
People you have not seen in months will inexplicably find you and want to catch up on your personal news. This will cause you both to stand directly in the path of approximately 1200 other people wanting to go to the bumper cars. This will happen about three dozen times during the course of the evening.
Local bar bands on the main stage will consider this gig one of the best of the year. You will not care.
There will be enough dust on the fairgrounds that you will think you're inhaling Oklahoma circa 1931.
The livestock pavilion is good for a quick runthrough if you have a young child with you. She will hold her nose and decide never to join FFA. You will be thankful.
During the course of the evening, you will be struck by the wonderful sense of consistency of it all. For 80 years, these same types of rides and booths and shows have been going on. Your father's father took him to something like this. He took you. You take your daughter. As a young man, you held the hand of your girlfriend as you walked here. Now you hold your wife's hand. It's a good thing. A touchpoint for who you are and where you are. And next year you will stay away from the damn twinkies.
