The birthday trip of ’06 was an overnight to West Springfield to attend The Big E. Dale went once many years ago (in fact, he saw his first reenactment there back in 1961) and I had never been so we decided a visit was overdue.
We spent Friday night lounging around the hotel room with beer, wine and room service. Not a bad evening at all. Saturday morning we headed out for our adventures at the fair. It took 90 long minutes to drive 2 miles. And don’t even get me started on the idiots who don’t merge when they are supposed to and then expect you to let them in the line in front of you. Grrrr.
When people say this is the Big E the emphasis really should be on BIG. As in huge. Because everything about the Big E is B-I-G.
Look at the horns on this sheep. Big.
And the size of these harnesses for the Budweiser Clydesdales. Big.
The pumpkin? Big.
The entertainment? Big. As in Johnny Maestro and the Brooklyn Bridge. Okay, maybe not terribly big now but once upon a time? Big.
Cows? Big as sofas.
We managed to eat our way from one end of this big fair to the other, feasting on corn dogs and Italian sausages and pierogies and lobster rolls. And maybe a couple of big beers, too. There was a Mardi Gras parade complete with bands and floats and the throwing of beads. I’m guessing Amanda would laugh at a New England version of this event but it was a hoot. A big hoot.
And just in case you think that I didn’t think of you guys, take a look at this.
Yup. Me in a pink cowboy hat standing by a stand of even more pink cowboy hats. I resisted the urge to replace the one I had on my trip to Estes Park in 1981. Yee Haw.