Tuesday, November 17, 2015

Great Respect and Poor Food Choices

The year keeps circling around--and Veteran's day and the parade came again.  I didn't take a camera this year--we've been going for many years and I've written about It several times.  But my feelings are the same.  It takes a bit of fuss to be in the parade--the trailer has to be hitched to the truck and the jeep loaded and tied down, and we have to get up early, and I have to put on makeup (can't be Rosie the Riveter without red lipstick!), then you have to drive somewhere to leave the truck and trailer and unload the jeep and drive to the parade staging area, and get there at least an hour before the parade.  Why bother?

And then the parade starts, and you turn down the main street, and you see thousands and thousands and *thousands* of people waiving flags and holding signs that say "thank you veterans" and you realize that yes, one day a year you do have to set aside a couple of hours for this, to remember and thank everyone who has served this country.

And the next day, on a less elevated note, we went to the fair.  It comes once a year, and we go every four or five years, mostly in the middle of the day to look at the animals.  But we were joining a group of friends this year and went at night--and it's been a few decades since we did that.  I'm not really a crowd-loving person, but I told myself that if I were in Oaxaca or Naples I would be fascinated by the native night life.

But of course the two reasons that we really went there were to go to the petting zoo (no one would hold still long enough for a good picture) and to eat fried food.  First, of course, a corn dog.  Then we actually ate vegetables (all deep-fried of course, but there might have been a vitamin or two lurking in there), and then we had to choose some deep-fried decadence.

How to choose?  We at last settled on sharing a deep-fried cheesecake.  I wanted more--deep fried twinkies and elephant ears and a funnel cake and batter-dipped deep fried oreos.  Alas--I might have the mind of a 20-year old, but I have a more mature digestive system and had to indulge mostly with my eyes.  sigh . . . . .

No comments:

Post a Comment