Fried-Day

(This post was originally gonna be about how tired I am. But then I thought 'Fried!' and this came out instead.)

Today is the opening day of the Texas State Fair - the Most Epic State Fair in the world, which I am certain is true even though I have never been to another state's fair. Because it's Texas. We have a beautiful Fair Park, we have a bonkers fried food competition, we have a butter sculpture and a car show and livestock and a gargantuan cowboy named Big Tex who burned down once but we brought him back bigger and better BECAUSE TEXAS. 

It's also the home of The Food and Fiber Pavilion, one of the most mellifluously named places in the universe. I have loved The Food and Fiber Pavilion since my earliest foray into its air-conditioned splendor. Before Texans cared about the environment, we would bring home a giant bag of fliers and pamphlets about cotton, butter, vacationing in Corpus Christi, and fifty recipes for ground beef. International Paper gave out rulers and a zillion pieces of paper, and we had to collect them all. We hauled bags around for the rest of the day, so that at night we could pore over our brochures and see if either of us missed any.

When we started doing yearly fair trips, I was a newly-homeschooling tween and my only memories of the fair at that point were riding rides with the random kids of a now-obscure family friend. I still remember the fun house - I was easily scared so that imprinted very well, the rest is a blur. But my mother, my little sister and I ventured down to Dallas on an uncrowded weekday circa 1995 and established a firm tradition and rigid routine for our subsequent annual fair days. 

First of all, we like to go on Senior Citizen day. They are easily outpaced so you can feel like you're really zooming through the place. Though the wheelchair row is full for the marionette show, there are plenty of good spots in the upper levels of the auditorium. Same goes for the frisbee dog show - we claimed a sprawling spot in the corner that should be engraved with our names by now. The cooking demonstrations are crowded with blue-hairs, but they're also slower in answering the audience questions so I won an Anaheim pepper once for being able to tell the chef where Disneyland is located. I didn't even know it was a pepper! I'm pretty sure it turned black and we threw it away a few weeks later. Don't fact check me on that.

We also have to start with a funnel cake, then enjoy a corny dog for lunch, perhaps washed down with root beer from a barrel. Cotton candy was a must, but also a major pain on rainy fair days. Abby has clearly traumatic memories of trying to keep her cotton candy under her plastic poncho - it's an important piece of family lore.

The Food and Fiber Pavilion (can you hear the angelic chorus celebrating that heavenly phrase) is also home to the Borden Dairy display, where they sell the Platonic Ideal of Chocolate Milk and you can also pet a cow. I'm ashamed to say I can't remember the cow's name at the moment but they missed some hipster street cred by not naming her Lizzie. There's still time, Borden - morbidity is very in this year.

I haven't even told you about the Creative Arts building, the Russian craft booth where I decided I wanted to learn Russian (I can say 'thank you' and 'apple' and 'cloud'), the car show, the sales buildings that are like museums of American ingenuity and forceful salesmanship. I do have to say that years ago all of the sample hot tubs were full and we had to put our hands in all of them, but now they only fill one or two which is a cheap move. Also, I appreciate the super powerful foot massage machines much more as an adult than I did as a teenager.

Going to the fair is a very different experience with Asher. When he was tiny, we were really able to recapture the feel of those earlier trips; but with additional family members, it's just never going to be what it was. Plus, The Food and Fiber Pavilion (God rest its somewhat-defunct soul) is now fully 1/2 gift shop and just not nearly as fun as it once was. But I still have to go pet the cow, and I'll never stop talking about it because it makes my heart sing in glorious Foodie Fibery harmony.

Also, Asher gets too overwhelmed. The smells, the crowds, the animals, the restraints needed to keep him from escaping into the wild - not his scene. I made a valiant effort last year but he just wanted to stay at the Texas Lottery booth and watch the numbered balls swirl around. Fun, but cheaper and easier to do with a bucket of ping pong balls at home. 

Sometimes we long to recreate our most treasured childhood memories for our kids, forgetting that they're not us, and that it can't even be done in ideal circumstances. His season for the fair may come, but for now I'll get his corny dogs from Sonic and show him dogs doing frisbee tricks on YouTube. And maybe I'll go by myself this year, just to see the jellies and quilts and have a funnel cake and visit The Food and Fiber Pavilion (ahhh).