Nearly a year and a half ago, I went to the Minnesota State Fair with friends. I came away with pictures of the fairgrounds, the animals and the parade. The grounds and animals made it to this blog shortly after.
The parade never did, until now. What happened? Madness.
First, I met a pig.
Then I met a cow.
But I missed the big contest.
I saw Squeaky, the fair's boar king, 1,240 lbs and anatomically correct.
I saw goats, who looked lost. "What do you mean, we're in the fair?"
Obligatory baby animal picture from the fair's Miracle of Birth barn.
The piglets are sleeping. Happy?
I got the pink car. But either the pink car was fast, or I was.
I ate deep-fried fresh fruit on a stick.
I drank all the milk I could drink for a dollar.
I joined a huge crowd to see the making of chainsaw art.
I felt compelled to test the shower heads.
I did not win a house full of windows.
I watched a woman swallow a sword.
I did not touch the prize-winning pumpkins.
I drove a go-kart as fast as I could.
I saw a performance I did not understand.
Coming soon: Animal and parade photos.
Maybe I'd seen the Mississippi before, but I knew for sure I'd never been to a state fair. You grew up in a city and went to school in a city, and these things happened. My first trip to a county fair came two years ago, and people said a state fair was a monster by comparison. It was! The conventions took us to the Twin Cities in the final days of the Minnesota State Fair, and we made the most of four hours there.
Pictures are coming here in different sets, to be posted sporadically. For more of the day, check out blogging from the rest of our fair party: colleague Randy's salute to fair bacon and Marco and Steve's video. (Bonus if you read this post last week: Marco later talks to Mustache Jim of Heimie's.) Jess also sends along this link to a fair commercial. If you see one food-on-a-stick video in 2008, make it this one.
"The milk at the Minnesota State Fair is ice cold with a thick mustache-forming layer of foam on top, and you can drink as much of it as you'd like for a dollar."
There's a moral to the Slate story later, but it starts with food. Which may mean I didn't take the moral to heart, but all that milk could sure follow some deep-fried Oreos.
