All's Fair

Sno Cone, please.

We went to the interstate fair Saturday. Boy oh boy, it was the first time in I-don-'t-know-how-many years.

The last time I went to the fair I believe I had a couple 10-year-old boys in tow -- one in a bit of snit because the other wouldn't go on the "fast" rides. (You know who you are.)

Those were the good old days -- of refereeing ride debates, trying to explain how it's virtually impossible to win the at midway games -- unless it involves goldfish -- and spending an eternity in front of the souvenirs concession waiting while little boys made lives-hang-in-balance choices between nunchucks or ninja swords.

Sans children, a trip to the fair is far more sedate. You fuss about the important issues -- like forgetting to take an allergy pill before heading into the barn area. . . or whether you'll contract swine flu or West Nile virus. . . and where the "real" restrooms are because the Honey Buckets look a bit dodgy in the noonday sun.

Of course, priorities firmly in place, we started out our visit in search of fair food. Exercising extraordinary self-restraint, we navigated past the elephants ears and curly fries to settle on "healthy" fair food -- blackened salmon over caesar salad (delicious) and gyros (verdict is still out -- my date did not share), chased by a slice of free baklava.

I have to admit, my heart did go pitter-pat at the sight of the jumbo corn dogs being consumed next to us. Dietary virtue is so overrated.



Then on to the animals. Who doesn't love the animals?

For future reference: This is how you wash a sheep.
You're welcome.

I'm not sure this is what Miss Spokane bargained for
when she accepted the crown.

Did you know you can SIT ON A PIG?
I'm totally getting one for the family room!

Man-eating guinea fowl. Who knew?
BTW, his name is T-Rex. And he growls.
Really.

And into the exhibit areas, where I regaled my date with tales of my own wild 4-H exploits at the Multnomah County Fair so many years ago. Let's just say my knitted slippers and snickerdoodle entries were somewhat underwhelming. I did get a ribbon for a drawing, though.

And the vendors. We were looking for a fly-tying booth and ended up with literature about bee keeping, tub liners, fireplaces and Obama. I see the symmetry here, don't you?

We are, if anything, an eclectic pair.

And finally, the midway. Fully intent on keeping our lunches on board, we did not partake in the rides. But I can attest that carnival ride technology has evolved dramatically in the Defy Gravity Department -- as have the carnies in the Charles Manson Division.

And you know what? You can still win a goldfish.

Boy, was I tempted.

But, no, I'm saving myself for a family room pig.

Screw the family room pig.
Just get me a goddamn Sno Cone.