Took the clan to the Barnstable County Fair, an experience akin to paying ten dollars each to go to the worst restaurant on the planet, which then induces you to vomit on spinning rides, fill up again, then finish the meal with a stroll through fetid animal pens in 90 degree heat.
I have never gotten out of there for under $100.
It all begins with the fried food. Wife goes for a ginormous fried onion with horseradish infused mayonnaise and a tub of Del’s lemonade (allegedly considered a delicacy in Rhode Island). Eldest son and I go for the foot long hot Italian sub with greasy fried onions and peppers, and a large $7 order of “curly” fries soaked in vinegar. Youngest son always gets something strange involving mystery meat on sticks. Daughter goes dessert right from the beginning, generally fried and covered in powered confectioner’s sugar. We rendezvous in the glen behind the fried food stands and go communal, all while reassuring ourselves “It only happens once a year.”
Then to the rides. I like looking at the carnies. Belt buckles the size of garbage can lids, weird leather cowboy hats … one actually said, “Get ‘er done” after loading a passel of screaming tie-dyed campers onto the Regurgitron. I don’t go on the rides. I have a notoriously wimpy stomach, horror of heights, and would flunk out of the astronaut try-outs of the first round. So I make the boys do it and then take great glee in watching them get sick.
We play games. Generally involving guns.
And then my favorite part. Animals.
0 thoughts on “Fried food, farm animals, and nausea inducing machinery”
Wow – girls gone postal, sheep in clan garb and pot roast sundaes…
Next year I have a lobster tomalley sundae booth – ptomaine poisoning to go…
Free the chickens and make the sheep wear tie-dyed vests and dark glasses! Do it for the children! mother and daughter with guns as a team! I’m so encouraged.
Freaks, KKK critters, food fresh from the morgue, ex convict carnies, watching the kids hurl; good times! I can’t wait til next year! I am so there, dude. You haven’t lived until you’ve eaten a Barnstable Co. Fair Gyro. Best camel, I’ve ever had!
We have a similiar yearly outbreak of mass masochicism called the State Fair. I think we have at least a hundred acres of vendors selling mutant turkey legs and fried twinkies and snickers bars, plus the usual funnel cakes and sausage dogs.
We have the live stock, the demolition derby, and all those quaint exhibits where for a dollar you can see the worlds tallest midget, the woman who is half snake, or the two headed horse.
I’m not sure which group is weirder looking, the carnies or the attendees. People watching is one of my favorites at the fair. I’m assured of my normalcy which on any of the other 364 days of the year would be in dispute.
We ride a few rides, but skip the regurgitron. For added thrills, we can pick one of the rides the county previously shut down for mechical safety concerns. Invariably, I find my self looking for cracked welds and missing or ungraded bolts on the way up on the ferris wheel.