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Friday, September 29, 2006

Dog, as in Tired, not the Bounty Hunter

We just got home at 10:30. Thankfully, we live on this side of this town, or it would have been even later.

I'd love to say that I enjoyed the evening as much as I enjoyed the morning, but I did not. The SPAM contest was wildly mismanaged, leading to it not ending until 9:30 and contestants not being allowed to pick up their dishes/plates/what-have-you until almost 10 pm. Because of the way the rules are worded in the Premium Catalog, i.e. that you must be present to win, most contestants spent almost all evening parked outside the judging area, with no seating available, waiting for the woman who seemed to be simultaneously running both the pound cake and the SPAM contest to finish with one thing for this one or the other. Why the fair doesn't separate those contests completely, I do not know, but it really sucked up the entire evening quite needlessly. There were a fair number of grumbles from those waiting, especially those who were older (quite a few) who really did not enjoy standing for a long period of time.

Did I win? Hell no. Am I upset? Hell no. It was a lark, and it would have been a fun one if it hadn't d.r.a.g.g.e.d. on for three hours. I'm quite fine with not being able to master SPAM's essence. I've never bought it before this contest, and I frankly will never buy it again. (That sound, that shloooooop, as it fell out of the can, will haunt me forever.)

The pickle contest is next Friday night, and I just don't know if I can spend another evening that way. I missed all of the Demolition Derby tonight, and it will not be a Dixie Classic if I do not see minivans smashing into one another at least once. I saw no pirates, I saw no hypnotist, I saw no tinsmithing. No tinsmithing, people. It's an outrage.

There were a few high points, of course. There was a ferociously good band playing in the center of the fairgrounds, and the youngest did an impromptu, chickenlike dance to Play That Funky Music, White Boy. Also, we ate our annual funnel cake, and we watched a new attraction on the way to SPAM purgatory: a motorcycle rigged so that amateurs and passersby can do wheelies on it without actually going anywhere. Hard to explain, but if you are picturing an exercise bike like at a gym, you are very close. At one point, a military chap from the nearby tank display got on the motorcycle and popped a really extended one. You could almost smell the testosterone in the air.

So far, after the first day, my favorite thing at the Dixie Classic this year is the poultry. There are some truly beautiful chickens there, and trust me when I say I never thought the phrase beautiful chickens would come out of me. I daydreamed briefly about starting up a little chickenage (orphans - orphanage, chickens - chickenage) at our house but reminded myself we're full up. Also, my husband would be completely - and rightfully - unamused.

Chicken 1
Chicken 2
Chicken 3

Other pictures from my morning at the Dixie Classic:

Judge's Choice, Antiques
Antique Tractors in Yesterday's Village
Yesterday Village
The Midway
Liberty Tax Service Lady
Caps for Sale
Water Display outside Agriculture Building
921 lbs Pumpkin
172 lbs Watermelon
Pumpkins Decorated as Pirates
Clown Willie (his name for himself, people, his name)
Man on Tractor Display
Sheeps with Muzzles
Bad Goat
Junior Cakemaking Competition Cakes
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