But Once A Year Does It Pass

For an epicurean undertaking as complex as the state fair, I needed to prepare a checklist. My record of completion and comments below.

þ Indian fry bread with beans and cheese. This is my state fair tradition. I can't recall a time when we went to the fair and I didn't get a Navajo taco.
þ Funnel cake with strawberries. Had a few bites of this. Perfectly crispy and delicious. Makes me want to sell the house, buy an RV, a funnel cake machine, and roam the country with my carny bretheren.
þ Fresh roasted corn on the cob. Mmmmm, corn.
þ Deep fried Snickers. This was my first sampling of the deep fried sweet craze. I have to admit, although tasty, I would not order it again.
þ Fried zuchini, onion rings, mushrooms, and artichokes. I mistakenly ordered this veggie platter from a place serving fish. The vegetables were big and fresh, but the batter was flavorless and non-descript. As Robyn would say, "You didn't like it because the vegetable-to-batter ratio was too high." Indeed.
þ Deep fried Coke. I expected this. What I got was something that looked like a soggy corndog and tasted like warm, flat Coke.
þ Deep fried cookie dough. After three offerings, I've decided I don't like the fried sweets. I like my fried salty, meaty, and on a stick. Preferably of the pork variety.
þ Spicy cajun corndog. There is nothing like a true state fair corndog. A foot of some sort of spicy meat, dipped in corny batter, and served on its own souvenir stick.
þ Polish sausage corndog. This needs some explaining. I wanted the cajun 'dog because I wanted the true creole experience. I had not finished turning the stick horizontally to gnaw
the last batter remnants, when across the fairway I did spy the elusive Polish sausage corndog. Back to back 'dogs? Could it be done? I sidled up to the counter, slapped down my fin, and asked for a Polish. The carny looked right at me and asked incredulously, "Didn't you just eat one?" Yes I did, brother. Yes I did. This is a true story.
þ Frozen banana. The crown jewel of stick-based cuisine. God's perfect fruit made even more perfect through the magic of refrigeration, chocolate, and of course, the stick.
o Grilled turkey leg. The line was too long. I'll catch you at Thanksgiving, Mr. Turkey.

Until next year, I leave you with these words of gratitude from Homer Simpson.

"He's not just some guy, Marge. He's a Carny and part of a noble tradition. Carnies built this country--the carnival part of it anyway--and though they may be rat-like in appearance, they are truly kings among men."