So, it is Faire Tyme again, for sooth, for once again merriment and japery assail the gathered. Lords and Ladies doth proclaim that all shall make merry under the pain of…what? It is not that kind of fair?
Four States Fair and other fairs in our fair land to partake therein? Ah, I see. For simplicity, we shall ponder our local fair, ye Faire of Thine Foure States. This fair is a tradition cherished by locals. In my time, it has moved from Spring Lake Park to the dedicated fairgrounds and they started doing more cowboy stuff and what not. But certain things have taken place that bode ill for ye fairegoer. Zounds, what dost thou speak of, lord?
Well, besides ditching the roller coasters and even more, bumper cars, we need to embrace the mystical art of the fried. Sure, you can get concoctions as exotic as fried alligator as of two years ago, but go to nearby spectacles elsewhere in Texas, or say, Louisiana, you can get try freaky fried.
I’m talking the kind of fried that in theory only appeals to those over medicated on the marijuana recently legalized (under prescribed medical conditions ) in Arkansas. Fried Ding Dongs. Deep-fried ice cream topped cheeseburger. Deep fried jello. Deep fried beer. And other weird things that sound perversely enticing, such as bacon ravioli.
Look, the fair is a time to let loose, with the family, the significant other or just you, you swinging single. No reason you get left out of fair action. But c’mon, ye vendors of viddles. Bring us the weird. The unusual, the strange. Show us flavors that should not exist in reality, yet do. And at the fair is where you find it. Feed me. I command it.