Carnies and midway games-folk seemed pretty normal at the Puyallup Fair this year, though the crowd’s diversity and odd clothing issues made up for any lack of mirth at the expense of carnies.

The fair held good times for the Junior Miss and me this year, as well as some forgettable moments, minor though they were.

Treasures included the scones, which seemed to be flakier and more heavenly this year than I remembered.  Maybe it’s that “low carbing” I’ve been doing, I don’t know.  On the high-carb front, Sales’ curly fries fries were fresh, crispy, and oh-so-right, though eating next to a smoker made for a less-than-epicurean experience.  I think there’s a reason I like the smoke ban in restaurants. 

Also decent, though not orgasmic, the chocolate dipped ice cream bite I bummed.  I think the most off-putting about this particular food item was that while we waited to purchase said food, a dude with a wheelbarrow full of chicken poop was standing upwind of us.  That’ll help a person stick to a diet.

Non-food delights for me, were the rodeo â€" which was super fun, though my 4-year-old rodeo viewing date was bored at about the calf roping â€" and the whole Sillyville concept (with lawn!).  Now if they could somehow pair the kiddieland with a beer garden, I’d have been in heaven.  I’m thinking that might only be able to happen in English pubs, though.  Abby’s non-food delights were the funhouse with bad Indiana Jones picture (she went through it twice!) and the giant pumpkin carving.

Moments of fun came while viewing mohawks mingling with cowboy hats while a Manorexic pretty boy mingled in the same space as a dude in double-ponytailed crazy braids that made Snoop Dogg look mainstream.  More moments of pleasure came while inhaling deeply the fragrance of funnel cakes and barbecue. Moments of “only at the fair” full-sensory overload happened more than once: feeling the warmish air, seeing flip flops and cowboy boots, smelling the fudge in the grandstand area; and hearing the screams of glee when borderline insane people placed themselves onto rides like The Extreme Scream.

Exiting, I thought of all the things we missed, as we watched a true carnie geek breathing fire, sticking torches in his mouth.  I must return, will try to score tickets to the Real Men Wear Pink Rodeo Finals.  Because I want to breathe in the air of altruism in the name of Susan B Komen.
Good times, good fun, good fair. â€" Jessica Corey-Butler