Really, you need not take this as derogatory in any way. There were just as many people and cameras around the world's smallest bull and the giant boar as there were around Sarah Palin. It was safer to touch Sarah Palin, though. And she was cleaner; well, the animals were pretty clean being gussied up for the show and all.
But before we met Palin or the animals, we walked around and just tried to take it all in—the fair experience. So much to see, so much to do, so much to eat. Avoiding the amusement park (too many people going upside down, it made me dizzy just to watch them spin through the air), we examined our map so that we could go see the butter cow—which, I didn't realize at first, has an armature; how else would the thing stand up I suppose—the corn exhibits, the harness races, and the grape stomping. As a snack for watching harness racing, we bought the deep fried Oreos. Not bad. Not exactly good. Ready for some serious salt after two.
In the first harness race, my pick made it around the track hours after the race was over and Julia's choice decided running was more fun than trotting so had to be held back. Race two we both fell for the black beauty named River Running Wild and he won, but then racing officials questioned that for a while. He was ultimately deemed the champion. The next race my horse was in the lead but then Julia's pick, the absurdly named Lipstick and Shadow, came up and they were tied until Lipstick stuck it to mine (didn't hear his name) and won.
We waited around a bit to see if I would get to stomp grapes, but they never picked my number, so we decided to see the livestock before leaving. Julia was still hoping for that glimpse of Sarah Palin, maybe a photo or two. I guessed that she would probably visit the butter cow, and shore 'nuff, as we came down the hill I picked her stylin' glasses out of the crowd of cameras. We moved right in, but I let Julia take all the pictures. Then she tried to get me up there to shake Palin's hand and I took the camera instead (I had a giant lemonade and a bunch of maps and papers, but somehow I balanced the camera and took pictures). Palin loved Julia's accent.
By late afternoon the sun was hot, the crowds were large, and the politicians were parched. We listened to a few of the blue-button-up-shirted men talk but didn't see anyone we recognized. All the Republican candidates were there of course, shaking hands and eating butter on sticks. It was time for us to make the last couple of hours in our journey to take Julia to her new home in Iowa City.
But before we met Palin or the animals, we walked around and just tried to take it all in—the fair experience. So much to see, so much to do, so much to eat. Avoiding the amusement park (too many people going upside down, it made me dizzy just to watch them spin through the air), we examined our map so that we could go see the butter cow—which, I didn't realize at first, has an armature; how else would the thing stand up I suppose—the corn exhibits, the harness races, and the grape stomping. As a snack for watching harness racing, we bought the deep fried Oreos. Not bad. Not exactly good. Ready for some serious salt after two.
In the first harness race, my pick made it around the track hours after the race was over and Julia's choice decided running was more fun than trotting so had to be held back. Race two we both fell for the black beauty named River Running Wild and he won, but then racing officials questioned that for a while. He was ultimately deemed the champion. The next race my horse was in the lead but then Julia's pick, the absurdly named Lipstick and Shadow, came up and they were tied until Lipstick stuck it to mine (didn't hear his name) and won.
We waited around a bit to see if I would get to stomp grapes, but they never picked my number, so we decided to see the livestock before leaving. Julia was still hoping for that glimpse of Sarah Palin, maybe a photo or two. I guessed that she would probably visit the butter cow, and shore 'nuff, as we came down the hill I picked her stylin' glasses out of the crowd of cameras. We moved right in, but I let Julia take all the pictures. Then she tried to get me up there to shake Palin's hand and I took the camera instead (I had a giant lemonade and a bunch of maps and papers, but somehow I balanced the camera and took pictures). Palin loved Julia's accent.
By late afternoon the sun was hot, the crowds were large, and the politicians were parched. We listened to a few of the blue-button-up-shirted men talk but didn't see anyone we recognized. All the Republican candidates were there of course, shaking hands and eating butter on sticks. It was time for us to make the last couple of hours in our journey to take Julia to her new home in Iowa City.
No comments:
Post a Comment