Manly Mustaches: "FOL-KUH-RING-GUH!"

First and foremost: 25 bonus points to the first person who can answer: What was the first thing I did when I returned home?

This morning my alarm went off at 6:50 AM. Man, that was early.

On account of the fact that I'm currently on "Parental Probation," Maxwell and I hit the road in the comfort (and luxurious style) of the new "Mustachemobile," or as most call it, the 1991 Nissan Maxima. Perhaps it wasn't too luxurious, but the sweet rhythm of Birdland made up for it.

We pulled near the fair at about 11:30. Max was like, "Hey, let's park here."

Lady: "That'll be $25 and I need your keys."
Kubas: "This sounds sketchy."
Max: "I think we'll look somewhere else."

We did some illegal parking, found a few really nice young kids, and then parked about 4 blocks away for $5. WHAT A DEAL!

Anyway, today I lost my state fair virginity. I have to say, I'm not really a fan of fairs in general, and apparently my body language screamed that.

Max every 5 minutes: "Kubas, don't look so pissed off. Enjoy yourself."

Apparently we Minnesotans live by an "unspoken rule" at the state fair: Eat something crazy. Perhaps it was my full summer carnie experience 2 years ago, or my 32 hours of Elks Booth Madness this year, but I think I've learned over the years a simple lesson: don't trust fair food. This would explain the woodwind-like flatulance coming from Max's anus.

My personal highlights:

I think it's safe to say that Mrs. Folkeringa is comfortable around me. Instead of the typical "Hi, how are you blah blah blah" that most mothers would say when greeting someone...the first words out of her mouth directed towards me were as follows: "So, did you try the Governor-on-a-stick?"
I wouldn't say I have a fear of cows, but I'm certainly not comfortable around them. As we were leaving the 1040 lb. pig, we witnessed a parade of cows--featuring a chocolate milk producer--and they all seemed to look me square in the eye.
Immediately afterwards Max had the "genius" idea to visit the horse barn. As Maxwell was sprinting behind the dozens of beasts, it hit me, these things could kill me with one blow of their hoof. It didn't help any that this one BEASTLY horse took a pizzle all over the floor near my foot. Yum. Horse pee.
During the warmup session of the marching band...an entire flock of Folkeringas appeared out of nowhere. I began counting: "One..two...three....EIGHT!" Visualize with me: As I worked my way examining this rare breed from the left to the right...the first seven of them were dressed in matching UofM attire. Classy! But, as we approached the eighth Folky fellow, she refused to join in. 'Twas a shame. BUT, the highlight of this encounter was the entire Trumpet section. From directly behind my freshly shaven head I heard a glorious noise--nay a chant-- "fol-kuh-ring-guh! Fol-Kuh-Ring-Guh! FOL-KUH-RING-GUH!!!!" It was beautiful! As they began chanting, I joined in with the famous Tom Hennen "YEEEAAAH!" fistpump. I scanned the rare Folky breed: 6 of them had beaming smiles on their faces. It appeared as though the elder Mr. Folkeringa was shedding a tear--but I have a theory he had something in his eye and/or allergies. But...as my eyes made their progression towards a young Ms. Gracia Folkeringa I saw the funniest thing in my life: She displayed THE reddest face in embarrassment. Someday you'll realize, you're family is waaaayyyy too amazing. [This moment, so far, is up for the 'Andrew Kubas Highlight of the Year.' Other nominees include 'Driving with Pelk and Midge,' 'The Max Kuehn-You-Say-Potato Moment,' and 'Spring Break 2006.']
I am now...officially...Nina's babysitter on weekends. (Fingers crossed)

I think I said this nine times today: I'm SO excited for the indoor marching band concert. If they can sound this good with just FIVE days of rehearsal--imagine a full 4 months! I want to buy the tickets now!!!

As Max kind of pointed out...I seemed to have a "realization" of sorts while watching the band play. It was just like, "Would I want to do this a year from now?" I don't think I would want to do that in college. It's too much effort--ESPECIALLY--considering it's all voluntary. (And considering who could potentially join me in the trumpet section) Then it kind of hit me again...I don't think I have ANY desire to go to the U. Maybe I'm on crack, and maybe I'm missing a good thing...but I think I'm just supposed to go far away.

...One of my goals today was to steal as many free items as possible. I took 2 things. This hat, from which I received 4 individual compliments, has yet to leave my manly hair.