The State Fair of Texas
If you’re a lifetime fan of the State Fair of Texas having experienced so many positive and enduring memories there stop reading right now.
All right. I’m not going to say that I had a bad time today. Our visit to the State Fair did not completely waste the day. I had the company of one of my best friends and her two kiddos which is always nice. It was cool and clear and the perfect example, with a gleaming blue sky, of what you’d like October in Texas to look and feel like.
I’ve always avoided the Fair, even though I’m pretty proud of my Texan birth and roots. It has a combination of several things that really stress me out. When I say “stress me out” I mean, these are things that make me wonder if I should be on medication; things that make me question my sanity.
It’s in Dallas for one thing and I hate driving to Dallas. Dallas in general is a little out of my comfort zone both in location and character. Another reason to avoid the fair is that it’s crowded and most of all it is outrageously expensive. It’s also in Dallas. Yup, that's right, Dallas. I was proposed to atop Reunion Tower, in the most romantic of circumstances but still, DALLAS.
What changed my mind this year was two things. First of all, many former fair goers had told me that it wouldn’t be very crowded on a weekday and since we are homeschooling we could take advantage of that. Secondly, I picked the brains of a lot of people trying to figure out exactly how much this might cost me and kept coming up with a modest little sum that fit into the “fun” budget this month. Amongst all the input I received I should have heeded the words of one friend that told me “The fair could be fun, if I were going by myself and left the kids at home…”; thinking of that right now it seems awfully foreboding.
On top of that, at the advice of several friends, we took the train. It was actually two connecting trains, a detail which seemed unimportant at the time I made the decision but in hindsight was kind of an important part of our journey mostly because we had to wrestle 5 kids off of, on to, off of, on to and off of a train one of those times requiring the assistance of several amazingly kind strangers to “save the baby”, lifting the stroller up on to the correct platform seconds before the train roared up in order to get on the right train to take us to our blessed home. We also waited for 45 minutes on said platform to catch the train that actually headed towards our non-urban/suburban neck of the woods.
It only cost me fifteen dollars to take myself and the kids each way, to and from, which seemed like a good deal. Fifteen dollars is two Whataburger meals. It’s worth fifteen dollars to me to not have to drive in or to Dallas. After all, I’m prone to foul language my children shouldn’t hear when driving in Dallas. That Mommy van simply wasn’t meant to drive to Dallas. She shouldn’t be filled with profanity and Mommy’s strained, uncomfortable attempt to refrain from its use. Fifteen dollars sealed the deal.
What hadn’t occurred to me is that pretty much the whole of the DFW metroplex had this exact same idea and by the time we got on the train we were accompanied by hundreds of our neighbors. I don’t like crowds. Seriously. I’m also a little claustrophobic. A crowded train is not a really great place for me. Surprisingly everyone we encountered was incredibly nice and friendly which is not what I picture on a crowded train. What I pictured was scary looking people wearing wife beaters with bad B.O. Everyone was quite pleasant. Lots of “please”, “thank you” and “excuse me”. There was lots of cheerful small talk and help in and out of the train with the 5 kids we had with us.
By the time we got to Dallas from Hurst and switched trains to get to Fair Park I was a little on edge, though. This was mostly because it was so cramped. Now I had a moment of real anxiety when I got there because we had just kept occupied 5 children all the way from Hurst to Fair Park in Dallas, none of whom were injured. No one fell on the train tracks and had to be rescued from an oncoming train but if I had a dollar for every time I corrected, scolded or called after my children today I might have felt somewhat justified in paying eight dollars per person to ride the Ferris wheel. (Folks, I don’t care if it says “Texas” on it. I’m not paying eight dollars per person to ride a stinking Ferris wheel. Ridiculous.) I can’t really paint an accurate picture here but that’s a big deal.
We played “I spy”, I gently told my middle child to stop losing control of his limbs and smacking everyone around him in this overcrowded commuter train car including the white haired elderly lady in the seat in front of him just because he was excited looking out the window and because he is who is (an unstoppable force in perpetual motion, I kid you NOT) about a billion and a half times. I didn’t yell or grab anyone up by the scruff of the neck like a wild wolf momma keeping control of her unruly pack. This took a lot of restraint. I prayed short, shotgun prayers, “Please bless us with a good day”, “please give me strength”, “please let me not lose patience and freak out in a screaming fit and holler at my children like a classless, integrity-less piece of white trash or grab them up in a rage and rush off like a werewolf howling at the moon”…these are real self quotes.
The first thing I thought we’d do when we had finally arrived is look at the animals. This is my favorite thing to do because I love seeing all the horses, cows, sheep, etc. because I wish I had some AND it’s free.
Having only been to the New Mexico State Fair (aside from a brief visit to the Texas State Fair to see part of a Reba McEntire concert when I was 19) when I was a kid, this is what I remember. I remember going with my straight laced Grandma, my father’s mother, and learning there was a hand washing station right by the petting zoo and that I wasn’t really hungry for Tacos, this was a myth, I could wait until we got home and have a ham sandwich with mayonnaise.
Another time, I went with my other Grandma and learned that you can basically make all of the animal stalls into “exhibits” if you want to. I remember her getting sneezed on by a very big, snotty cow. I don’t remember washing my hands that trip but I do remember eating a LOT of cotton candy.
I also remember that on another trip I went with my brother, sisters and parents and won a goldfish somehow while wearing my straw Texas Deb hat and cowboy boots. Poor Goldie. So young, gone too soon….
Anyway, I kind of thought that on our visit with my own children I might combine an experience not similar to that of my straight laced Grandma, nor my crazier Grandma or even my experience with my childhood immediate family but that we might find a sweet combination of all of them. ‘twould be a fun, sensible, memory making day (slipped into pirate speak there for a minute). We’d try things and pet things (animals, that’s pretty much all you really should pet at the Fair). We’d be relaxed and wouldn’t really mind that Mommy didn’t want to spend $40 riding a Ferris wheel; understanding that she might rather buy something more lasting and practical than that. We’d sample the fun Fair food because I can seriously respect a good corn dog or funnel cake. It would be a short, simple, fun visit.
This was not the case. We staggered over, fighting the crowd to see the sheep pen. The entire way all of them were crying for the Ferris wheel and funnel cakes. We saw sheep. Notably found a cute baby lamb. All of this while everyone complained of near starvation. We staggered over to the food booths and opted not to wait in the miles long line for Fletchers corn dogs that seemingly stretched to our Oklahoman neighbors to the North. I like corn dogs and honestly five dollars for a really good one sounds reasonable but no corn dog is good enough to wait in line for an hour or two. Not one. Let’s stop at sonic on the way home, shall we?
After a lunch of discount chalupas and a second trip to buy lemonade and fries because my kids were still ravenous, we tried to make it to the Ferris wheel having no idea how many coupons it took to ride it. We wandered through the midway, heckled by the game attendants. Do you have any idea how much those games cost? Yikes! There were people spending hundreds of dollars on games. At the fair. Is fiscal responsibility dead? It was like we’re all suddenly 12 years old and our money is burning a hole in our pocket. We’ve got to buy something ridiculous. Now!
So, we get to the Ferris wheel a little haggard and grumpy from surviving the midway and feeling somewhat relieved that we saved all 5 kids from being snatched up by carnies.
Sixteen coupons. Sixteen coupons to ride a stupid Ferris wheel. That’s eight dollars per person and two lines to stand in; one to buy coupons the other to ride the infamous wheel. That’s forty dollars for me and children. There are a multitude of things that I would be happy to spend forty dollars on but a Ferris wheel is not one of them. Thankfully my friend wasn’t about to drop that kind of cash for a ride on this magical wheel of delight either and we started to walk away and decide what we wanted to do next.
Oh the children hollered and whined and complained. We started to work our way to the exit and find the train station not really seeing anything else worth paying almost literally an arm and a leg for. The kids were so disappointed. I felt bad. I did say that if it weren’t too expensive we’d ride it so they probably thought that I’d cave and let them do it anyway.
In the midst of the wails, their hearts broken, their day ruined, I spotted a half off cotton candy booth.
Friends, because my children will not be able to adequately reflect on these experiences until they are much older and capable of convincingly confusing them with a lot of other memories they have made, they are not really reliable judges of this day. Today I am the judge. Today I think that my children will remember one thing and one thing only. I think they will remember cotton candy. In much the same way as giving a baby a gift and having him simply occupy himself gleefully with the box it came in, I think these kids will remember a train ride to get cotton candy. They talked about that cotton candy all the way home.
We did make it home, eventually. Worn out, I surrendered the rest of the day. I let the kids play outside as long as they wanted and picked up chicken express for dinner.
We came, we saw, we won’t be going back. Maybe I’m just a party pooper but The State Fair of Texas just ain’t for me.
