As a former theme-park worker, you’d think that the State Fair of Texas would be a no-brainer. And, after hearing of the park’s iconic Big Tex when I worked on “King of the Hill”, I was intrigued by the possibilities in Dallas. Growing up, fairs weren’t much of a Brown family destination. We were more your theme-park family, although we did attend the 1982 World’s Fair in Knoxville (the one with the Sunsphere, for you “Simpsons” geeks).

As Sara’s 35th birthday grew closer, we decided that a trip to Dallas to see Mary Poppins would be the perfect gift, as well as a needed break from the kids. The Theater at Fair Park is, ironically, conveniently located on the fairgrounds, so we’d be treated to musical theater and time at the fair. I snagged tickets 6 rows from the stage (goodbye college for Casey) and booked a room. We were set. Nothing could damper the mood, not even if one of the biggest college football games of the year took place on the same day.

Oops.

Neither the wife or I are college football fans. We didn’t go to big universities with NCAA athletic programs. To suddenly start rooting for a team we have no vested interest in is akin to rooting for someone else’s kid in Babe Ruth league. And yet, we found ourselves attending the Texas State Fair the same day 96,009 Longhorn and Sooners fans would be squeezing into the Cotton Bowl fun.

Undaunted, we arrived in Downtown Dallas around 10:45am, a good 15 minutes before game time. Assuming that most people would be at the game, we found ourselves waiting for the brand spankin’ new DART rail Green line along with those 96,009 running really late fans. With the DART system being completely overwhelmed, our two mile journey from downtown to the Fair took almost 90 minutes.

Many adjectives spring to mind when one things of the Texas State Fair. Obese is one. Fried is the other. Not that there were large amounts of fat people, but obese in the sense of excessive. It’s like they complied every imaginable food, carnival game, carnival ride, merchandising booth… and weren’t satisfied. Even though it’s outdoors, there’s no room to breath. I’m not claustrophobic, but I was at the fair.

The other adjective, fried, is what the fair is known for. Every possible delicacy is lightly battered, dipped in hot oil, and offered up for public consumption. You had fried Oreos, fried Twinkies, fried moon pies, fried pecan pie, fried chicken, fried cheesecake, deep fried peaches & cream, fried peanut butter cups, and the mother of them all.. fried butter. Just hearing those two words in the same sentence makes me conjure up visions of Paula Dean happily tossing packages of Land O Lakes into giant vats of oil.

Fried Pecan Pie

I’m not the healthiest eater in the world, but I kept my batter intake to a mere corn dog. Sara opted to try the fried pecan pie, which garnered mixed reviews. I guess going to the State Fair and not eating something fried is like going to Legal’s Sea Food and ordering chicken. My doctor and my arteries would be proud of me.

After soaking in the atmosphere, we headed over to the Music Hall to our 2:00 “Mary Poppins”. The Music Hall gets my vote as the Worst Possible Theater I’ve Ever Been To. A gorgeous feat of architecture on the outside, the lobby and hall itself are tragically designed in “1972 Renovation” . The massive hall is a black box with seats. No design, no architecture. My garage has more ambiance.  The orchestra bit rivals only the Grand Canyon when it comes to width. While we were 6 rows from the stage, the performers seemed like they were in Ft. Worth.

Thankfully, nothing mattered when the show started. “Mary Poppins” was (using the cheap line) practically perfect. It’s not a scene-by-scene recreation of the movie. On the contrary, many of the memorable scenes or settings from the film (Penguin waiters, Horse racing in the park, tea parties on the ceiling) are gone. The musical merges the original novels with the notable songs in a way that, frankly, comes off better than the movie in many ways. The roles of George and Winifred Banks are fully fleshed out. The Banks children are brats instead of victims of circumstances. Bert becomes the narrator, not just the comic relief. The familiarity is there, and it’s a great show.

Major props to the choreographer on two particular numbers. “Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious” is a dizzying display of “handy” work (those who have seen it know). “Step In Time” is also an test to synchronizing yet differentiating 25 performers on stage in a large number. It really worked. By far my favorite number was “Feed the Birds”. It got really cold in the theater during this performance. It’s the only reason why I’d become overwhelmed with goosebumps. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

The only blemish on the performance was, sadly, the audience. I’m used to seeing shows in Boston, New York and Los Angeles, where people make an effort to dress up at the theater. In Dallas, dressing up means Tony Romo jersey (worn by a woman) or Velour track suit. The young couple sitting next to us thought it appropriate to tweet during the performance. If Sara had felt better, I think that iPhone would have been tossed into the orchestra pit. And finally, the curious case of the people who exited the performance before the curtain call. Between the ugly theater and ugly audience, future performances at the Music Hall are under review. If we see “Shrek: The Musical”, we’ll see a night performance on a day OTHER than the Red River Shootout.

Won this after playing Whack A Mole

Remember those 96,009 people that rode with us TO the fair? Well, they all wanted to ride AWAY from the fair at the same time we did. Hoping that the line would die down, we decided to wander the midway. This was your carnival on steroids featuring all your favorite rides, complete with toothless Carnies. Remember the Hurl-O-Whirl, Tilt-And-Puke, Vomit Comet, Swinging Barf Machine, Death Wheel and Let’s Just Drop You 900 Feet Swings? They’re all at the fair. The impossible to win games? Yep. Sara didn’t let me see the 1500 Year Old Alligator. Bitch.

When we returned to the DART station, we were faced with a dilemma: Wait in a 90 minutes line for a train, or walk 2 miles back to the car. Even though she’d been fighting a cough and virus for the past week, Sara never complained once during that walk back to downtown. Keep the extra $8 DART and buy more trains.

In all, the State Fair of Texas wasn’t horrific. As we wallowed with the burnt orange and maroon-red masses, we commented that this might be a fun place to take the boys when they’re older. It’s something you need to see to fully understand.

To sum up, it was a Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious weekend. Yes, I went there.