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Sunday, October 23, 2011

A Spectator Sport Even I Can Love

Ok, so “sports” is a six-letter four-letter word to me. Here’s my list of regretful sports:


       ·        Baseball: I heard there’s a diamond in it somewhere, and that’s as far as I can appreciate it. The rest seems like waiting around for something to happen.

·        Football: I object on linguistic basis. I’m going to have to agree with the rest of the world on this – soccer is football. I can’t think of an appropriate name for American football.  But when the quarterback guy passes the ball under his legs, there’s a joke dying to be made.

 IMAGE:  YOU DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW THE PICS THAT CAME UP FOR THIS GOOGLE SEARCH. PASS THE EYE BLEACH.

    ·        Basketball: Somehow, when someone accidentally rakes a nail against a chalkboard, or a baby is crying people are ready to peel their faces off in protest. But give ‘em a court and some tall guys and they’ll listen to the wretched sound of rubber sneakers squeaking on a waxed floor for hours.

·        Hockey: Sarah Palin.

·        Boxing: Being a nurse, I have to resist the urge to jump in there and start dabbing eye cuts and calling for ice. And then scolding the guys for getting in a fight.

·        Nascar: I drive in circles on a regular basis.  I even have a major car manufacturer plastered on the front and back on my vehicle. The only “purse” money I get is the same 68 cents jingling around the bottom that I started out with.

 Now, I realize I’m alienating sports fans.  Rest assured, there’s a something we can agree on.

 People watching. A spectator sport by definition.


I’m not going to go all “People of Walmart” on you.  Those are consumers on the fringe, braving Walmart at 2AM to indulge in the passion of a hot pink unitard and leopard skin cowboy hat at 300 pounds.  But our funny friends at the State Fair march out in broad daylight to indulge in gastronomic and entertainment monstrosities. To wit:

 PHOTO: Do You Know What This Is? No, You Do Not.

Ok, so on the left is a chocolate covered strawberry. That was just a warm-up.  The right, however, is…chocolate covered bacon. But everyone knows fair food is weird. Let’s move on.





“Honey, do you think he’s ready for the motorized scooter yet?”

Can you see this? That’s gotta be like a 7 or 8 year old in that stroller.  And that’s the kind of stroller with the little sun shader thing. Shoot, I’m venturing into Walmart territory, aren’t I? 

 PHOTO: Fair Beer. Watch Your Drink.



See the guy behind the counter on the right? See how he’s standing? Good. Now make sure your beer is COLD.



 PHOTO: Milk some wood.




This poor little girl has been duped into milking a facsimile of a cow at the fair. What she is pulling on behind the painted planks is anyone’s guess. For Pete’s sake, I hope it’s a rubber surgical glove filled up with warm milk, and that’s all I’m saying about that.


PHOTO: Knit cap on steroids.


And Aunt Becky said, “I’ve got jes’ the thing fer when the State Fair comes ‘round! Hold on to it tight, or someone’ll steal this hat sure as cocks crow!”

See the people trying not to look?


PHOTO: Fair ride or Soviet-era jail?


Lastly, it’s just not a fair until someone gets stuck or maimed on one of these contraptions, is it?

Happy Fairing!

P.S.

If you see animals at your fair without shade, food or water or they are being taunted or hurt, please help them. Notify the livestock manager. Take cell pics for evidence. You’re the good guy. ;)

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Was Aunt Becky tripping on LSD when she knitted the hat?

Butterfly said...

I believe it was a combination of moonshine and homemade canned tomatoes that sat in the basement, fermenting. Aunt Becky is from the "if covering part of the head in rainbow colors is good, then covering the rest of it is better!"
Camp of Kitting.