Drunk on sugar and vibes: A first-timer experiences the South Carolina State Fair

Josh picks me up and before we head off we cackle in the car for a moment, shocked and amused that we were able to swing such a luxe assignment.

Myself and The State photojournalist Joshua Boucher are here to have fun, we agree. It’s my first time at the South Carolina State Fair, and somehow we are being paid to be here and hang out.

I have a plan before we even get through the gates. We’ll get a snack, then a ride, then maybe a game, then maybe we’ll look at the animals, when is the circus again?

The plan fractures quickly.

Sylvia Plath has a pretty famous quote from her novel “The Bell Jar” that goes, “I saw my life branching out before me like the green fig tree in the story. From the tip of every branch, like a fat purple fig, a wonderful future beckoned and winked….as I sat there, unable to decide, the figs began to wrinkle and go black, and, one by one, they plopped to the ground at my feet.”

I saw the figs falling before me as we wandered the fairgrounds, hungry and delirious from visual stimulation.

“SAUSAGE CHIPS CORN DOGS” “FRESH NOW” “MINI DONUTS” “LEMONADE LEMONADE LEMONADE” “CANDY APPLES” “COLD DRINKS”

The opportunity cost of this evening would be significant. For every piece of fried dough ingested, another would drop out of reach.

We take a lap and then conference — we are here to work, technically. So we decide to start with something new, you know, for the story.

Food diversion #1:

Dill pickle pizza from Spaghetti Eddie’s Pizza and Pasta

This is a new item this year, and I also promised my boss, Sarah Ellis, that we’d try it.

Morgan’s score: 4/5; Josh’s score: 4/5

Really good. Josh points out that the cheese tastes like mozzarella stick-mozz, which for some reason is better than normal pizza mozz. Morgan agrees, the mozz-stick mozz with the dill really works. The dill is great. The crust was also nice — soft inside but still with a nice crisp. An excellent first choice.

One note: Don’t be thrown off by the sad pizza stand the slices live on in the kiosk.

As we trudge across the fairgrounds, game masters call out to us like ruinous sirens.

“You can play even if you’re press,” one man prods.

When we walk past a game that requires hitting glass bottles with a baseball, I comment on my infamously poor throwing skills. The woman running the game points me toward “Water Gun Fun” and asks, “What about shooting?”

The conspiracy here is clear. They’re working together to get my money.

Maybe my upbringing gave me a complex about carnival games or maybe it was that one episode of “The Simpsons.” I just can’t bring myself to spend money on them.

The Wisconsin State Fair was about 2 hours from where I grew up, so honestly I didn’t go often. But my hometown of Wautoma proudly and dutifully hosted the smaller Waushara County Fair every August.

Spare the navel gaze for a minute, but I was raised in a household with a modest income and I was always keenly aware that the county fair brought my parents a lot of stress. It’s an expensive activity!

I look back with gratitude that my parents and grandparents teamed up each year to make sure we never missed a summer.

And that may be why I am so horrified that most of these games cost $5 per turn at a minimum, some $10 per person. There could be a good reason for the cost, but this story isn’t about that; this story is about me. And I have some negative feelings about the cost of these games.

Food diversion #2:

Pronto Pups

Josh’s score: 6/5; Morgan’s score: 5/5

Pronto Pups are a Minnesota State Fair staple. Some estimates suggest they make up more than half of all hot dogs sold at Minnesota’s annual carnival.

Upon discovering that their beloved fair treat was available here, Josh, who is from Minnesota, did maybe shed one little wistful tear. This was Morgan’s first time trying a Pronto Pup and she thought about it all night long.

As Josh and I wandered the fairgrounds, we decided to wax poetic about what the fair meant to each of us. Of course, we talked about our childhoods.

The fair midway is probably one of the first places Josh felt freedom as a child, and I thought that was poignant and true. You get your ride wristband and some money, and if you need something, Dad will be in the beer tent. (I didn’t see a beer tent at the S.C. State Fair, so I’m assuming there isn’t one?)

Then, we’d be off, racing toward the ruby glint of the Tilt a’ Whirl, dodging our younger siblings under the dusty bleachers at the tractor pull, religiously stopping to count our dollars and cents and calculating what treats we could still afford to enjoy.

Ride diversion #1:

Gondola

Both score 5/5. It delivered what was promised.

Josh had two cameras in tow, so we were a bit limited on which rides we could do. The gondola made a lot of sense for our purposes — it takes you on a nice, slow ride over the top of the fairgrounds, so we could take pictures and scope out what we wanted to do or see next. We had a nice time up there.

Food diversion #3:

Wisconsin cheese curds

Root beer float

Morgan’s score: 3.5/5 on the cheese curds, 5/5 on the root beer float

Josh’s score: 5/5 on the curds, 4/5 on the float

Morgan is from Wisconsin and knows her curds. Because of this, she may have been a little harsh. They were good curds. Really. Josh is used to breaded curds and was glad these weren’t breaded.

Morgan prefers a breaded curd when it’s fried. But full disclosure, she did work at a Culver’s from ages 15-17, so maybe it’s a soft/blind spot.

Women painted to look like wild cats have been prowling the fairgrounds on stilts all night. Their wooden limbs glide and click with the carnival drumbeat. A pair of older women walk past with half-eaten ice cream cones. Someone nearby is selling light-up rubber swords.

All the while, children are being catapulted into the air inside mechanical boxes affixed to whirly-gigs and whatchamacallits.

Don’t their necks hurt? I remember that ride. I can’t believe my parents let me do that. Is that safe?

“The carousel, like the earth spinning, whipped away air, sunlight, sense and sensibility,” Ray Bradbury wrote in “Something Wicked This Way Comes.”

Indeed, my attention starts to crumble. There is so much to see that I stop seeing anything, and for a while, we just walk around dazed by the neon.

Food diversion: #4:

Elephant ear

Josh and Morgan agree: 5/5

The amount of powdered sugar on the elephant ear felt performative. Sometimes the press badge encourages hyperbolic behavior. But we will trust that the mountain of powdered sugar we received comes standard with each ear.

“These are show birds,” says a volunteer named Wanda, who is excitedly leading me toward a row of caged Phoenix roosters whose feathers look like wet oil in the sun.

Part of the fair experience is the food and the rides, sure, but I also don’t think a trip to the fair is complete without a stop by the barn.

Josh and I laugh at the idea of teenagers on first dates at the fair, strolling lovingly through the bird room.

Elsewhere, a nearly 500-pound pumpkin has been given a blue ribbon, along with a 200-pound watermelon.

Food diversion #5:

Mexican street corn (on the cob)

Josh’s score: 5/10 (being very generous here); Morgan’s score: 0/10

This is where we messed up. I, Morgan, really didn’t want to be mean or call anyone out by name, but I am a cobbed corn connoisseur, and what was served by Meatball Factory LLC (God, I should have known) was not good.

First off, the kernels should burst upon tooth impact, but that did not happen here. Secondly, for a $9 ear of corn advertised as being abundantly-topped, I got mayo and little else. OK, I said I didn’t want to be mean, so I will restrain myself, but I could go on.

Anyway, there is a “new” Mexican street corn item being advertised by the fair, but that is served by DeAnna’s Food Concessions. I guess I’ll have to give that a try next time.

Ride diversion #2:

“Vertigo” swing

We agree: 4/5.

It was a 4/5 experience because the vibes were so immaculate. If we were being truly honest and critical, it would get a 2.5/5 because the ride lasted less than a minute. But again, great vibes. It was raining. We were besties being besties. We were getting paid. It was nice.

Another building on the outskirts of the fairgrounds is filled with salespeople — vendors selling fancy massage chairs and bulk candy.

“The average 11-year-old’s arteries already look like this,” a woman with a headset microphone says as she holds up a mason jar of yellowed fat and grease. Somehow she makes the jump, “(So) West Bend wanted to create the most perfect cookware.”

Across the room, a charismatic man is trying to sell a woman on new furnishings.

“You can choose any glass seller you want, baby, I just want you to choose me,” he calls out to her.

There really is something for everyone here.

Luckily, unlike Sylvia’s fig tree, the State Fair lasts until Oct. 22 and comes every year. Before this season’s run ends, I plan to return for a donut dog and a candy apple.