Only at the State Fair

Yesterday afternoon Kelly, the kids and I all rolled out to the North Carolina State Fair. We went last year on a whim and had a shockingly good time with the kids. So we were excited to go again this year--especially since my Fall Break is this week and we could go on a Thursday rather than a Saturday.

While we were there yesterday I noted several things that made me think "only at the State Fair." Without further ado, here they are (they * indicates only at a State Fair in the South):

*A t-shirt design that says, "Southern by birth. 'Coon hunter [as in raccoon hunter, for those of you who need translation] by the Grace of God."

-Fried Twinkies (didn't try them), Fried Coke (only heard about them, didn't actually see it, not sure that I actually want to), Fried Snickers (abstained), and Funnel Cakes (the love of my life after Jesus, my family, and Cops re-runs).

*Only at the State Fair do I have this sick push-pull attraction to reading people's t-shirts. It's like driving by a five-car pile-up on the highway. The designs tend to fall into one of a couple categories: redneck angry, sexually-charged redneck angry, alcoholic, Christian-fundamentalist angry, or desperately trying to find something good to say about N.C. State. It's the latter two that I find most disturbing.

*Only at the State Fair might Davis and Zoe be privy to the comments offered thoughtfully to her attentive mom and grandmother by the six-year-old girl sitting in front of them in a kiddie truck ride: "This 'ere's a Peterbuilt truck I'm ridin', not a Mack truck, cut yur lights on you moron."

*On the way into the fair we passed through the gates and an old guy was sitting there taking tickets. "Have fun ya'll," he said sweetly. And then looking over the two of us loaded up with three kids he added, "Looks like ya'll already have." Indeed.