Every year around my birthday a distant cousin, one of grandma's sisters, would send me a dollar to spend at the fair. She remembered my birthday every year until her death and even gave me a raise to five dollars at some point. Mom called her Aunt Cloy, yes that's how they spelled it, though I never knew her given name. Seems rather appropriate for someone encouraging a kid to go to the fair and eat too much, ride all the rides and generally live it up. Thanks Aunt Cloy!
You probably already know my favorite fair food. Corn Dogs! Those golden sticks of goodness, covered in mustard and hot out of the grease are one of my many visions of heaven. To a lesser degree my stomach's hell but it's worth the pain. That's why the fair only comes to town once a year. Over the years I've seen the vendors get more and more decadent with their offerings. Deep friend snickers and twinkies sit beside old standards like funnel cakes and cotton candy to tempt my senses and twist my belly. Then you wash it all down with a big fresh cup of lemonaide and the world, if only for a moment, is a better place.
Who could forget the first time you ate a turkey leg while walking around acting like a caveman, or that first slice of greasy "New York" style pizza. The joy of biting into a fresh hot giant pretzel and then trying it with some mustard. Even the mainstay hot dog in a steamed bun with a little sourkraut. Yes, they all bring back a smile of simpler times when the world was full of wonder as they say.
Since I was feeling rather nostalgic this evening we ran down to Man Bites Dog for a couple corn dogs and a coke. They didn't let me down. If only they had a few flashing lights, side show barkers and the music blasting some Boston while the Himalaya DJ screams, "do ya wanna go faster!!!"
I miss being a kid sometimes. Then I realize I never really grew up. : )
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