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Wednesday, September 23, 2009
Crummy Rides, Pricey Junk Hide What's Great at Fair
By Sarah Tario
Edgewood resident
It's September. In Albuquerque that means it's State Fair time. The State Fair here is a Big Deal. Ads on TV, streets blocked off, planning-your-attack kind of Big Deal.
And, who-waa! was I excited to revisit the State Fair. Back in my heady days of youth, we went every year. And it was always fun, even though we mostly just walked around and looked at stuff. Lots of stuff. Fun vendors, weird food, twirling rides, horses jumping into metal tanks full of water, dancing in the Indian Village, quilts, dolls, models, paintings, animals, giant fruits and veggies. Like a modern-day Charlotte's Web, spun full of magic and frosted with smiles.
I love the State Fair. Until today.
We decided to come on a week day, during the day, to avoid some crowds. Upon arrival, we were pleased to see our plan was working. We parked three rows back from the entrance, mosey-ed up, paid our 19 bucks and waltzed right in. Dazzle me! we begged with our peppy steps and perky smiles.
Not even 10 feet in, we were dealt our first crushing blow. You know that springy cage thing that snaps you up into the air where you bounce up and down like a Super Bouncy Ball? The ride that turns grown men into shrieking women? Well, that's parked right at the entrance, tantalizingly dangerous. I thought: Self, wouldn't that be fun to do with your son? Yes it would! And then I looked at the price placard:
$25 for 2 (per person); $30 for 1. And a little part of me died. Fifty dollars! For 5 minutes of screaming?? That's 10 dollars a minute, people! Needless to say, that so did not happen.
We made our way to the Midway — that magic land of twinkling, spinning rides that look like they might just fly off and kill you. Our merry group, still hoping for dazzlement, approached the ticket booth and found a little sign that said: No Day Passes This Year.
No little half plastic/half paper wrist bands? Seriously? The only ride-til-you-puke wristbands available were SEVENTY DOLLARS. I'm so not kidding. Now, granted, they are good for the whole fair duration. But I'm not going to the fair every day. I'm going to the fair TODAY. And I'm not spending $70 per person for these rides (which makes $280 for our family). So we decide to buy $40 in tickets.
Do you know how many that is? Forty. A dollar a ticket!? Wait, wait, it gets worse.
So we make our way to the magical Midway and we notice most of the rides are empty. Yay for us! And then we find out why: All the rides are three to six tickets PER PERSON. And if you did the math, you noticed that the tickets came out to be $1 per ticket. Which means even the crappy rides are $3 per person. And the good rides? Six dollars per person.
So, we very carefully choose the rides we're going to go on.
The Ferris wheel is first. We're the only ones on it. The four of us and 24 other empty baskets. And it's nice on the Ferris wheel. ABQ looks really pretty. And the breeze feels good. We're feeling a little better stepping off. And Josh goes on this flying ride where you lie on your stomach, and he likes that. Smiley, happy.
We're down to 20 tickets.
While my husband takes our daughter to the kiddy rides to use up her remaining tickets, my son and I prepare to spin-so-fast-we-get-stuck. And we're pretty happy even though for both of us to ride this ride it is 10 tickets. Which, if you're keeping track, is TEN DOLLARS. Once again, we're the only people on the ride. Just my son and I. We're all giddy-like. And we start to spin. Yay! And we slide up the side. Yay! And the guy slows the ride down. And stops it. And we're on the ride for maybe 2 minutes, max. And my son says: “That's it?”
If you're keeping track again, that's five dollars a minute right there. Not smiley! Not happy! Very not dazzled!
You see, I'd sold this New Mexico State Fair to my family as THE State Fair of Epic Proportions. Fun! Prizes! Happiness! Worth a Half Day Off Work and School! And it is so not.
By this time we're all dying of thirst, after wandering around past all those rides we can't ride. We can only find pop for three bucks or more. We finally settle on a $10 lemonade because it comes with 10 free refills — which, by the way, we only used four of. We go inside this nice air-conditioned building, all full of dollar-store stuff and As Seen on TV vendors. And we buy some seriously overpriced, mediocre and greasy Indian fry bread.
It gets a little better from this point because we do eventually find animals. My daughter gets to ride a horse and drive a mini tractor, we find giant pumpkins and lots of smelly animals, and I find that someone I know won a second-prize ribbon. But all of these wonderful things — the amazing craftsmanship of the woodworkers and painters and quilters and growers — are completely overshadowed by the complete lameness of the Midway and food vendors. All the neat stuff is tucked way in the back, laid out in a nonsensical path, and there's so much plastic, flimsy crap crammed between them that you just want to give up.
So we did. But not before my daughter ate a $4 hot dog.
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