The Arizona State Fair gets a bad rap. Some people think it's a bunch of crap.
OK, so maybe the above sentences are true and could very well be entered as a poem at the fair, but who's really being fair to the fair?
People say there are trashy people there, and salesmen selling worthless crap. Others take your money in rip-off games where the prizes are a bunch of crap. And crappy rides are liable to get you killed.
But that's what makes the state fair the state fair.
Take away all the crap and the kitsch and you'd have just another flea market. Or, like us, you can revel in the crap that sometimes is the main attraction at the fair.
We recommend throwing on a pair of ripped jeans and a 25-year-old T-shirt and heading downtown to the fairgrounds to carouse in the crap with the other farm animals — er, fairgoers.
First, be sure to check out the livestock. Everything from bunnies to birdies to bulls is on display. Even cavies! These are just plain guinea pigs — not baby caves like we had hoped — but they're still fun to look at.
Take care when walking behind the cows. All are conveniently situated with their rear ends toward visitors.
A certain black heifer has extraordinary abilities in projectile pooping. A low "moo" precedes this phenomenon and then — splat!
If you're standing in the line of fire, you're going to smell purtier than a fertilized garden. We won't tell you what cow it was, but we wish the judges had awarded her points in the "long distance-crapping" category.
There's also surprising fun in trying out a half-baked, newfangled invention.
"This is not silliness, this is for real," giggled a woman in the crafts exhibition area who was demonstrating one of these wonders.
She was massaging a man's head with what appeared to be lengths of coat hangers attached to a vibrating device. His head, we said — the one on top of his shoulders. Use that toy how you will, but remember, no silliness.
After walking through the livestock pens and getting hay and crap on the cuffs of your pants [so that's what high-water Wrangler jeans are for!], it's only fair to complete your grungy fair attire with some crappy, mildly expensive body decoration. One that likely won't last until Halloween, i.e., a glow-in-the-dark noodle or magnetic blinking lights that stick to your ears, lips, piercings, etc.
"This is the closest thing they can get to a piercing," the hawker says of the preteens clustered around his red-and-blue flashing wares. Definite selling point.
If, after buying crap, you feel you can stomach some more, try some of the food joints lining the fairgrounds. Just follow the sickly-sweet smell of burning fat.
You might need some dessert after your 1.5-pound turkey leg. So Choo Choo's has deep-fried delights. Deep-fried Snickers bars, Milky Way bars and Mars bars tantalize the palate.
Here's how it works: Your favorite candy bar is impaled on a wooden stick and dipped in oil and then in donut batter. The battered chocolate bar is then deep-fried. And for only $3.50, it's handed over to the salivating fairgoer.
The deep-fried Snickers bar was my choice for heart-attack-on-a-stick. Still cold on the inside, but melty on the outside, the chocolate-bar-corn-dog was rich, and it smothered my mouth with powdered sugar as I devoured it.
As I neared the end of the too-rich dessert, I bit one last time into its spongy-gooey goodness, and liquid brown squirted from the rear end of the dessert, turning my mouth into a live impression of the long-distance crapping cow. Wonder what she's been eating.
Should you have one too many of those deep-fried delicacies, move your crap on over to the Charminized Bathroom.
Charmin has taken over one of the fair's restrooms and, well, Charminized it.
Attendants in blue Charmin polos man the restroom, which is decked out with Charmin paraphernalia. An "Emergency Stall," is designated especially for "little squirts," which we hope is a pseudonym for children.
Charmin banners flank every available porcelain surface and, of course, the brand-name toilet tissue is kept abundant in every stall. So, go ahead, do your business in style in Charminland.
Finally, most people at the fair aren't trashy. Really, they just look that way carrying big, dumb stuffed animals and goldfish in little baggies while contorting their tongue to lick the powdered sugar and liquid chocolate from their face.
We all do these things; it's part of getting into the fair and letting yourself revel in the crap.
But beware the ones who truly are full of it. You'll know 'em. They're spouting crappy pickup lines, like, "Hey, I'm new here at the fair. If you come talk to me, I'll give you lots to write about, little girl."
Note to borderline sexually harassing spa salesman: The state fair's doing fine without your crap.
Reach the reporter at sara.thorson@asu.edu.
