Take Me To The Fair

The morning was different the other day.  Most mornings, I open the back door to let Lil’ Rog outside for a piss and to terrorize neighborhood joggers.  And, I do it quickly because I cannot stand the strength and heat of summer’s sunrise stabbing at my eyes.  On this particular morning, there was a cool crispness in the air.  Early morning shadows even looked different than the usual castings of summer.  I could see hues of subdued blues in blades of grass and “cotton candy” colored pink skies.  I could smell September coming.  Autumn was just around the corner.  It brought memories back of when my parents would take me to the fair.

Autumn means the fair…

With September soon approaching, summer heat will be pushed northeast by the first cold front of autumn bringing misty evening fog into our streets and pumpkin-spice latte cravings to bitches wearing scarves ( I’m one of those bitches, btw).  And, it is almost here…the one thing we get to enjoy just once a year…the Tri-State Fair.  Mid-September, it will creep into town overnight with carnies in tow, bringing back fond childhood memories of delectable corn dogs, candy apples, funnel cakes, and family time.

When I was a little girl, my parents would take our family of seven to the fair every September.  It was never a cheap activity.  We made a day of it by paying the minimum fee to tour the exhibit halls and enjoy the food.  And, we seldom paid to partake in the rides for two reasons…

1. tickets to ride were expensive
2. my parents sure as shit didn’t trust something that was taken apart and reassembled every week from city to city.  So, we became content in seeing the largest zucchini adorned with blue ribbons and other attractions that were free of charge.

Fair food, oh my!

After our jaunt through the exhibits, we would hit the food vendors hard.  First, on my list of things to eat, was the ever so divine corn dog with plenty of mustard followed by a funnel cake covered in powdered sugar.  For the moments when our eyes were bigger than our tummies, my mom would wrap leftovers with foil she had brought from home.  She didn’t fuck around.

With mustard-crusted mouths, we would walk the filthy runway of rides as we ate our corn dogs; tripping over large power cables and strategically stepping over puddles of spilled drinks, cigarette butts, and spit.  The fair was nothing without all of these elements.  It was one great art installation which possessed a disgustingly beautiful aesthetic.  With a mixture of fair-goers from all classes gathered together at the same party, I appreciated the various breeds drawn to this particular week of fun.  We would often make a game of it, a scavenger hunt of sorts, by looking for middle-aged couples wearing matching satin company jackets or anyone wearing shower shoes….those were for extra points.

Game Time

Once we had our fill of greasy food, we would make our way toward the game booths.  Although designed to take my money in exchange for failed attempts at victory, they were entertaining.  My brothers, on the other hand, were masters at winning; goldfish, bagged in dyed water that would mysteriously meet death within 24 hours and kick-ass square mirrors adorned with their favorite band logos.  My gosh, it was all so glorious and disturbing at the same time; freakishly large zucchini, livestock chained in misery, prized mirrors that would later be used as a platform to cut cocaine by an ever-growing drug movement (they make a great landing pad for mise en place or measured spices….just sayin’), the dirty ground, the leathery nicotine-stained skin of carnies and let’s not forget the most important element…the food.

The fair will always have a special place in my heart with memories of childhood.  It’s remembrances such as these that inspire us to create.  I have used my memories of the fair in recipes, art, and in writing.  I am still trying to refine a funnel cake recipe that joins together a nostalgic element with a popular ingredient of today.  And, I keep my late brother’s Van Halen mirror close by whenever I feel like reminiscing about the good ol’ days of our fair outtings.  Come on, autumn.  I am so ready for you.