My Sights and Sounds - The Texas State Fair

So what does one do the first week of October when your team doesn't make the baseball playoffs?

You go to a city that did. In this case, Dallas.

Except I didn't go to any Texas Rangers games. I had business to attend to. And also I participated in some frivolity with a good friend/former work colleague who lives there.

He took me to the Texas State Fair.

Yee-hah!

For the uneducated non-cowpokes out there, this is a big deal every year at this time. From the end of September to the middle of October, this humongous amusement park is set up at the foot of the Cotton Bowl outside of downtown Dallas. An odd time to have a fair, what with kids back in school? Well, the option is to have it in the dead of summer when no one in Texas wants to leave the coolness of their bedroom closet.  Yep, early October works better.

This fair has been a-happening since around 1836 when there were probably regular fights between Cowboys and Indians. Now, it's simply a place where low income families can spend their hard earned food stamps. But, regardless, an evening there and you quickly become a full blown Texan.

Yee-hah!


There's a lofty admission fee, but there are plenty of promotions which cut down the entrance fee. On this night, empty Dr. Pepper cans did the trick. I'm glad I wasn't there on Kotex Night.

Those cans that were not Dr. Pepper could get placed in the official Texas State Fair trash.

This is Texas, so the bigger the car, the better the American. As you can see, people will park anywhere when they want to go to the Texas State Fair.

Fun miniature dirt races. Moments later, the blue car crashed into the wall and, I kid you not, the driver was some Asian youngster.

There's an awful lot of walking involved at the fair and I was tempted to rent one of these frequent sponsors of overnight television.

There are some museums at the fair. But, unless there was an exhibit devoted to Al Sharpton's leisure suits or a collection of Marion Barry mug shots, I wasn't interested.

This is Big Tex and he towers over the entire fair. Supposedly, the statue's mouth moves and it talks. Not while I was there. That's what you get when your admission price is an empty can of Dr. Pepper.

There is a nightly parade at the Texas State Fair. Just like the Electrical Parade at Disneyland? Not hardly. The biggest attraction is the Marine band shown above. The rest are floats made in some seventh grade shop class. The other big attraction? Oldies music played by the local Shriners.

The Texas Heritage Hall of Honor is certainly not affiliated with the aforementioned African-American Museum. Because all the inductees are white.

No, the movie isn't playing here. Nor is it a book signing with author Fannie Flagg. It's simply one of dozens and dozens of stands where you can get something fried. Not grilled or sauteed or boiled. Fried. It's all fried.

Or barbecued. Does anybody really like their bologna cooked on a grill? Really? Meanwhile, I also saw a sign for "Fried Butter." Throughout the park, you literally see folks walking around holding a turkey leg like an ice cream cone. Or a pickle deep fried in batter. There's not a cholesterol score under 300 in the entire state. I also got to enjoy a Turtle. That would be cheesecake frozen on a stick and covered in chocolate. It finally digested about three days later.

What's a fair without rides? Well, one of the biggest at the Texas State Fair is this ferris wheel. Tall is not the word. I looked up at it and decided that the only way I was going to get up that high is via a private elevator. This thing towers over the entire fair.

The good news is that it cost me zero coupons for this view of the legendary Cotton Bowl.

You can't do anything at this place unless you have a book of coupons. You need them to eat. You need them to go on a ride. You might even need them to use the bathroom, but that's unconfirmed. When you look at the coupons, you realize that one coupon is equal to fifty cents. There was one thrill ride called the Slingshot. It propels you into something just short of outer space. You need fifty coupons to ride it. Doing the math, this two minute screamfest will cost you the equivalent of 25 bucks.

And, given this is a Texas fair, you naturally get to see some live animals. Some even better looking than the slobs in the photo above. And they are living and breathing. Not robotics like you might find in Disneyland.

You get to feed all the animals there. But, of course, what goes in does come out. And the only sight more common than these animals eating is the same animals shitting. Frequently.

You can get perilously close to these things.

Lots of these billy goats were locking horns. For all I know, this could be the Texas State Legislature.

On one of our writing projects, we wrote in a gag about five runaway alpacas. Now that I have seen them up close, I apologize to my producer.

You don't want to know what came out thirty seconds later.

If only these poor little things, innocently sucking on their mom, knew how much of them will be ultimately barbecued or deep fried at the Texas State Fair next year.

Here's the one ride I was talked into going on. The Crazy Mouse. Looks tame. Some twists and turns, but you don't go up too high. Uh-huh. Your car spins around in circles as it is happening. Absolutely horrifying.

I had it in my naive little head that I would Flip videotape the whole experience. Well, I didn't quite finish the job as you will see. It's tough to shoot a video when you are undergoing severe whiplash.


Meanwhile, they don't have a car out with less than four passengers. So, my friend and I were partnered off with two little Mexican kids who may have wanted me to adopt them. As you can see, the whole experience mummified yours truly. As for the youngsters, the ride was a breeze and probably was an upgrade compared to hiding out in a car trunk.

As I said before....yee-hah.

Dinner last night:  Leftover bratwurst and cabbage.