This weekend, the State Fair of Texas opens.

This year, Fried Jell-O won “Best Tasting” at the Big Tex Choice Awards. And it made me think, “Man, it’ll be forever before they figure out something else to fry!”

Then I realized I think the same thing every year. I believe this tradition started with the Fried Lemonade. And then continued with Fried Bubblegum.

I’m sure it’ll continue next year with Fried Beef Stroganoff with a dipping sauce made with pine needles or something. [Note to readers: Patent pending! If anyone shows up with Fried Beef Stroganoff and Pine Needle Dipping Sauce at the 2017 Big Tex Choice Awards, I may take legal action. I’m looking at you, Ivan Drago.]

This year, the Fair had a weird mid-year event where it opened up in June. At least, sort of opened.

I would attend this event with my colleague, Eric Bushman [pictured]. Listen, there’s nothing wrong with two bro’s hanging out together on the weekend. I’ve written about this issue before during my trip to the JFK opera.

In fact, now that I think of it, I have a rich history of picking up ladies as a result of the JFK assassination. An associate once held a Presidents Day party for some reason.

Of course, I would attend as Grover Cleveland and was there to comfort some grieving Jackies O.

Put politics aside for a moment and consider, as the election approaches, what Hillary Clinton is doing to open up options for ladies at Presidents Day parties. The glass ceiling is being shattered! The glass ceiling of Presidents Day parties!

Back to the State Fair, Bushman and I pulled up to Fair Park and found that just about everything was closed.

A few folks were milling about near the big pond. But we couldn’t even get a Corny Dog! We had to eat at, and this is a real place, the Old Mill. I was terrified that in the middle of my CFS, a dog would come up and start barking to warn me of trouble.

I found Fair Park’s emptiness unsettling. Look at all the li’l Duck Boats cooped up on Leonhardt Lagoon.

“Isn’t that hauntingly beautiful?” I would remark to passersby who would then increase their pace.

That’s a phrase that would come up several times as I quietly reflected on the Real Meaning of… whatever I was reflecting on.

Next to the Cotton Bowl, I saw one lone ambulance parked outside.

Near some of the concessions stands, several clowns were just talking among themselves because there weren’t any kids nearby.

I can only assume they were comparing the latest in Big Red Nose Technology.

“Are you going to get the new iNose?” for example.

Outside of the lack of Corny Dogs, some of the usual booths had set up. I would pass a lone flutist playing out in the open as no one walked by.

This was particularly unnerving because hearing a guy belting something out on the flute in a big open area made me feel like something terrible was about to happen, like I would be eaten by a Duck Boat that had become sentient and started walking on land.

The guy was also playing into a microphone. Hearing a lone flute but then also hearing the guy inhale loudly between notes because he had a microphone near his face made me think those Duck Boats were getting closer.