Big John, Fair Food, and Wife-Beaters

So I have this friend who volunteers to push patience from Mercy Rehab around the fair every year. She asked me to help her, and I obliged upon hearing that I would get into the fair free later that night. When we got to the rehab center, we were introduced to Big John. We were told that Big John was deaf and we would have to write everything we said to him on a tablet. Well, I thought, this could be a long two and half hours! It turned out Big John could talk fine - he talked a lot and LOUDLY. I learned from him that he was the head security guard at Roseburg High in the 80's. Big John, the called him. Now, Big John was merely a shadow of former self. In a wheelchair with no legs, no hearing, and quickly fading eyesight, he was a sorry sight. However, he still kept his sense of humor and joked with us the entire two hours. We pushed the big guy around the fair in the dead of the summer heat. We entered him in drawings and grabbed him freebies. He got his picture drawn from the character artist. It was quite a pleasent afternoon, and I'm sure we gave the man the most fun that he's had in a long time, probably not since last year at the fair. Poor guy.

Later tonight, I returned to the fair. And it was quite the fulfilling experience. It was the perfect summer evening - not too hot, not too cold. Just right. We got there and were able to get decent seats for the Teri Clark concert. And then we went and got food. Four of us split a thing of curly fries, a terryaki stick, fried ravioli, and a fried bread. It was amazing. There is little in life comparable to fair food. Fair food is...heaven. Especially the fried bread. It is absolutely amazing, to say the least. Following the food, we went and appropriately looked at the pigs -- and then went and tried to throw it all up on the rides. It was a blast.

Oh, and did I mention that I hate wife-beaters? Yeah, they are the most white trash look on a guy that ever did exist. And so before entering the fair, we decided we were going to count how many wife-beaters we saw. In a three hour period, we counted 18. One guy had a wife-beater and orange hawaiian print shorts and we decided he was the worst model of the retched shirt of them all. But yeah. Not a good look at all. Only in our county...

Well, I'm going back to the fair on Thursday. Tomorrow I"m going to a Howie Day concert. I'm going to get all of this out of my system before I leave for school and start having to be smart again.