As the weather cools down in the piedmont of North Carolina, I begin anticipating the Dixie Classic Fair. I love the crisp air, clear skies, the smell of funnel cakes and grilled sausage, the sound of barkers offering to guess my weight and age, the reminders of the important things in life. Even in the midst of large crowds, I feel as though I can slow down and take it all in. All of this makes me feel like a kid again.
It takes a little effort to achieve the “feeling like a kid” state. I always forget that they charge you to park, before you even pay the entrance fee. So right through the gate I’ve dropped $44, and we haven’t even had a snow cone. (“Chill out, Dad, it’s always worth it.”) Then the sounds, smells, and sights draw me in. My wallet and my spirits are lighter.
We cruise through the alleys of fine cuisine, making mental notes of the best spots for dinner. I lament my limited capacity for food consumption. I couldn’t possibly eat everything that looks good. For this my wallet is grateful. We strategize about which delicacies and treats to purchase and share. I’m always amazed at the latest fried food and hamburgers made with donuts. We plan our return for meals and snacks.