Troy on Troy - Curch Fair From Hell

I am just a little bit sore in the head from the Saint's Simon and Jude fair last night. That was crazy. I would wager that there are more people at that local community fair than at the big boy, Orange County Fair.

We showed up around 7:00 after parking 14.3 miles from the Church, really glad I wore flip flops. We got into the grounds and headed for the Beer Garden. When I finally fought thru the 3.8 million people, I stood in the wrong line for another 10 minutes until I realized I wasn't in the drink ticket line, but I was in the Tri-Tip sandwich line.

We decided that waiting in the ticket line was going to be a one time deal so I bought $60.00 worth. I still had over half of them this morning in my pocket so that is my tithing for October. I don't think that Rebecca is going to buy that so I might have to file that to drunk shopping on my tax returns for 2009.

I ran into a dad of a friend of mine, Mr. Burke, and actually he was one of those parents that became your friends. What a truly great guy. His sons were John and Rob. He recognized me which is amazing since the only thing that resembles me from my high school days is that I am still tall, I have a mustache and I can't dunk. I think it was my 70's mustache that tipped him off. He shouts out, "Bubba!" He stood up and gave me a man hug of love and with the most sincere look that anyone has ever directed at me said, "I'm sorry to hear that you lost your dad." I said, "No, he's at home and doing well." He looked a bit confused and said, "Was it your mom, about 8 years ago?" Again I said "No, she's at home with him." I added "We did lose a dog about 8 years ago." He said, "Well, tell them I am glad they are alright and sorry about the dog.", and he sat back down and revisited his beer. I do love these reunion events.

On the way out the door prior to leaving for the carnie, I told my mom I would bring her home a present. So on the way out the door I hit my favorite fair game. The old "ping pong ball for the goldfish" contest. What a deal, 11 balls for $1.00. Many of you don't know this but for 5 of 6 years when I was youthful, I was the Huntington Beach Champion in Ping Pong. This is an actual fact. The tournaments started when I was 7 and the last one was when I was 12. I won four in a row from 7 to 10 years of age, was upset by a guy I had easily handled the past year and then won again when I was 12. I was in a ping pong club with at least 100 members and always played against older people. By the time I hung up the paddle, I was one of those guys that stands back about 7 or so feet from the table and we just slam the ball back and forth. Wow, did I digress. All that to say I know how to handle little white balls.

The first attempt at my quest hit the front rim of the tiny glass bowl and bounced away. The second was about a half an inch long. The third shot was a swish. Give me the damn fish! I spent an extra $5.00 and bought the plastic tank and I was off like a bridesmaids dress.

We decided to leave a bit early and for whatever reason, I needed a cab. There were none to be found, so I called my dad for a ride. (Does this sound like a blog by an 18 year old?) My dad picks us up and we are home from the Zoo with my gold fish named "Kevin" and his new habitat. I set him in the bowl and let the water temperature adjust by leaving him in the bag. The key is to let the temperatures of the bag and tank rise and fall until you release the fish and the water doesn’t shock the fish. Finally, I let him into his new home and the water must have been vodka. He instantly started listing and with in an hour, Kevin was gone. Somebody owes me a dollar.

I woke up this morning and had a draft beer hangover which is way worse than a white wine hangover but not as bad as a tequila hangover. (I know, that sounds pathetic as well.)

I like to think that I write these blogs and there is always some sort of message that I can pass along. Something that was special to me or even a good food tip. This time there is nothing of importance except for one thing that I have taken from my time at the fair. That was the LAST time I go to that particular fair. Too many people in too small of a place. I swear that every beer or wine I bought, I would be happy if I got back to my "spot" with about half of my purchase. I spilled more than I drank and I still feel like crap.

Next year, I'm doing Zoobie's.

Fight On! (Quietly, my head hurts)

Troy