We went to the Eastern States Exposition, The Big E as it's called, in West Springfield, Massachusetts, on Wednesday. If there is an East Springfield, I'm thinking we don't go through it or at least haven't gone through it yet.
Of course we haven't been going all that long. Our daughter Michelle and I made the first trip in 2006 as Sigrid was home in Germany visiting her family and I did some quick calculations that suggested I would have one less meal for two people to prepare if I went to the equivalent of a State Fair where there were eighteen point two boxcars of every kind of food stuff imaginable as long as you can imagine it all deep fried.
I had worried that in Sigrid's absence my culinary skills would either poison our daughter or drive her to run away from home and I wasn't comfortable with any line of patter I rehearsed to myself in preparation for the Inquisition that would follow.
The best I came up was to attempt with a straight face to persuade Sigrid that Michelle had been inadvertently left on the runway at the Frankfurt Flughafen when all three (other) members of my family joined me here in the Land of the Round Doorknobs in November 1991.
Then I remembered the hallway pictures of us all having fun in the backyard in Norwich and I reached for The Big E food offerings like a dying man clutches a straw life raft (I think that was a collision of two different figures of speech and was definitely NOT pretty).
We made it then and we go every year since in celebration and because quite frankly who doesn't love deep fried Oreos or a banana on a stick, covered in chocolate with the chocolate covered in bacon. The Big E. Very much not the place to go to if you're on a diet or ever hope to lose any weight. But delicious, and open through tomorrow, just so you know.
-bill kenny
Ramblings of a badly aged Baby Boomer who went from Rebel Without a Cause to Bozo Without a Clue in, seemingly, the same afternoon.
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