I chose the saddest day of all to go the State Fair of Texas. The death of Big Tex (flame-grilled is the way he'd have wanted to go) cast a shadow over the whole event, which had Big Tex's now non-existent face on every piece of merchandise, every map, every stall, every advert, every building. When the twittersphere erupted with news and pictures on Friday afternoon, every workplace in Texas stopped. Our office crowded round a monitor in disbelief. My stepson says lessons were stopped briefly while they were all informed of the tragic news. No doubt the government are investigating -- perhaps a rogue Oklahoma freedom fighter is to blame.
I wore all black to commemorate Tex on my visit. I'm just trying to fit in. Big Tex would have applauded my task that day -- to eat as much fried food as possible or die trying. We arrived mid-afternoon, and I set to working my way down the stalls, in order, from my entrance. I am a brave man, on a noble quest, and I'm just sad I will be leaving my family behind at such a young age. Can I get a life insurance policy with a diet like this? I'm not sure it'll pay out. I have recently acquired health insurance, so it was clear more limits were going to be pushed here as I am no longer afraid of death. As if the usual BBQ gig wasn't bad enough, the pursuit of deep-fried perfection (or not) promised to add an extra dimension to the artery-clogging nature of my work, the addition of delicious batter.