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Of Deanna Peoples and the Hall of Mirrors

Late September and early October mean one thing if you live in Dallas, The Great State Fair of Texas. Having lived here my whole life and attended the Fair regularly, I’m sure it’s lost on me what a special tradition it is. Sure other states have their “state” fair, but this is TEXAS man, and in Texas everything is bigger. That’s almost cliché, but it’s true. Growing up, the Fair was all about the midway. How many rides could we fit in without throwing up and having to go home? How much money could we lose to the Midway barkers telling us, “you only have to make one to get the prize!”?

The fair is about the food. World famous corny dogs. Texas Tornado-Taters. If it’s a solid food, they can, and will, fry it. They even had fried cheesecake this year. The Fair is about the Auto building, where “you to can view vehicles that you could NEVER be able to afford in TWO lifetimes!”. But most of all, when I go to the Fair now, it's about the nostalgia. I guess I really am getting old, because those memories of youth keep getting stronger. Call it “good ol’ days syndrome” I don’t care.

Sixth Grade. I had my first steady girlfriend. She wore my Pee-Wee football bracelet with my name on it, if you were the type that needed proof. I looked forward to the State Fair that year with extra anticipation for two reasons. One, our parents were dropping us off and we were going to be free to roam the Fairgrounds at our own will. Two, the girlfriend was gonna be with me. We hadn’t even held hands yet, much less kissed. But the possibilities made for many sleepless nights.

Fall in Texas is not like Fall “up north”. We pretty much go from Summer to winter. There are though, a few spectacular Fall days, and when they happen, you really notice. This day, the sky was a spectacular shade of blue, a Technicolor blue. The air was crisp, a welcome relief from the dog days of Dallas summers. We had been wandering the grounds for about an hour uneventfully. I had won her a mirror with Reo Speedwagons logo on it with my uncanny dart throwing abilities. We had already had the requisite corny dogs. I could dela it no longer. It was time to make “the move”. As we passed the funhouse, I said “lets go in there!” Everyone knew the funhouse was where you made your move. Into the funhouse we went, past the rotating barrels, through the "air up the skirt shooter" and in to the hall of mirrors. I don’t remember too much, other than being debilitatingly nervous, and really don’t remember the first kiss all that well. The second one though, that was a different story. The pressure was off.

I wonder how many times the hall of mirrors hosted a “first kiss”. Exiting the Fun House on that perfect October day, life could not be any better, any simpler. I was even bold enough to begin planning next years trip with her to the Fair. We would skip the Fun House and go to the Lazer Light Extravaganza. It’s dark in there, and they have bean bags to lay on…

Four months later, she broke up with me. First heartbreak. Didn’t even give me my bracelet back. Girlfriends would come and go. But you always remember your first girlfriend right? To this day it still never fails, when we get those one or two perfect Fall afternoons, I flashback to the Hall of Mirrors. Sound like a cheesy Wonder Years episode don’t it?

Comments

Lee said…
Great post, Bacon...... You may refer to your story as a "cheezy episode of the Wonder Years", but I gotta feeling everyone who reads your words can IDENTIFY with that special/magic/happy/sad/awkward/ideal time of their lives.

Thanks for the memories! You've got a great gift, man.
Mmmbacon said…
Thanks for the comments fellas...

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