Traditional country fairs are hard to come by when you live in the megalopolis of the Northeast. There’s a few fairs and festivals around but to get to a true fair featuring lots of junk food, carnival rides, livestock contests, crafts, and shamans hawking their wares, you gotta go to The Big E.
I haven’t been to the Big E since… well… the last time I went to the Big E, my parents rented an Atari 2600 for me in the hotel room. You figure it out. Its a bit different than I remember, but not a lot. Everything you could hope for is there: the rip-off "games of skill and chance," the various rides with a Times Square’s worth of neon and lights, vendors promising you that their car wax will make your car, dog AND hair look better and of course, more corn dog vendors than you could… well, shake a piece of processed meat dipped in batter and fried on a stick at.
Oh, the food, the glorious food. I was proud to see that my little home state of Rhode Island was doing some big-time representin’ in their state exhibit, offering up the best food out of the six states – great stuffies and the best damn scallops I’ve ever had anywhere.
Oh yes, we had beer and cheese-covered fries and cotton candy… I kinda wish I had had a corn dog though, just to complete the experience. We also spent about $40 throwing various balls at various objects in an attempt to win a $10 doll of Brian, the dog from Family Guy. Oh, the things we do when intoxicated .
No rides though – I’m not a ride type of guy, though the times I’ve been on them I’ve always walked off of them feeling all pumped up and ready for more. It is just that first one that’s tough to overcome. I don’t get the concept of being scared to the point of staining your pants or throwing up. I don’t expect anything to be coming out of my body while I’m having fun (well, with one notable exception…). This is much to the dismay of my significant other, whom, I discovered, is a ride junkie. I explained that she likes scary rides and I like scary music, so it all works out.