On a Stick

I'm not a prolific poster, particularly when I'm in the middle of productions--which is most of the time--and especially when my involvement includes writing for a production. Without spending time trying to justify it's inclusion, thematically, in e-verities, I'm posting this and reserving judgment on it's place here for later.

It is a monologue I put together using bits and pieces from three student storm evacuee stories, several events reported in newscast, a little research about "on a stick" foods at fairs, my own memories of working a funnel cake booth at the Brazoria County Fair for several years, and my own imaginings. It is one of several segments I've written for our production, IKE, the *not so* Great Storm of 2008. In the production several monologues, duets, comedy skits, songs, dances, a few poems and special effects are woven together to make up the evening's entertainment. First conceptualized to include only student created work, it has evolved into something broader, including a whole company dance number to a brief excerpt from Gene Kelly's "Singing in the Rain," that delights me every time I see it. If you're nearby, Nov. 6, 7, & 8th, consider attending a performance.

So, the monologue we call,

On A Stick

First, we loaded up Dad’s truck and the van with everything we could haul down from the apartment and headed up to my Aunt’s in Houston. That was late Wednesday. Dad drove back down to work in Galveston Thursday and helped his boss, Virgil, board up his boat shop. Dad does fiberglass work on boats, repairs and stuff. He made a whole boat once, nearly by himself. By the time he got back up to my Aunt’s that night, there were twelve of us staying in the house. I gotta lot of cousins.

Friday mornin’ TV announcers were tellin’ us where we were in Houston had to evacuate, too close to the ship channel. It looked like Ike was going to roll right over us, so we loaded everything back up and drove north to my Uncle’s place south of Tatum. We drove up in our truck, the van and my Aunt’s two cars. Including us, the Houston folks, and some others that just showed up at my Uncle's from the piney woods, there was nearly twenty people bedded down. It was crowded. Like I said, I gotta lot of cousins.

The TV in the workshack was up high. We sat around on the floor, boxes, and workbench to watch the storm roll in over Galveston. In one of the reports, Dad was pretty sure he saw his boss’s boat shop flooded with the roof partly blown off. Maybe also it was on fire, he wasn’t sure. Even if he didn’t see it, the TV said there was six feet of water and mud in the buildings along the bayside and that had to include the boat shop.

Saturday, Dad kept trying to call in and couldn’t get Virgil. By then it looked like Ike was gonna roll right up over Tatum too as a tropical storm. Some of us was sleeping in the shop, and the little boys were outside in tents, so Dad decided we’d ease the crowdin’ and go to my Mom’s parents, Granmaw and Granpaw, in Dell City, Ok. He had to borrow money from my Uncles to buy gas for the van and the truck.

Dell City is near Oklahoma City, home of the State Fair of Oklahoma, and tho’ Granpaw and Granmaw are retired—I can’t remember from what—they run a couple of concession stands at the fair. They’ve run food concessions at the fair for longer than I’ve been alive. Mom said she use to work them when she was my age. It sounded fun. Granpaw said he could use help, so Mom and Dad went to work for him. I didn't get to go, at first. I had to sit around Granpaw and Granmaw’s house and watch my little sister, she’s a first grader. She’s okay. Only sometimes, she’s a brat, but she’s waay better than any of my cousins.

At the fair, Mom was makin’ Deep Fried Twinkies on a stick. Never heard of ‘em before. They poke a stick through a Twinkie, dip it in batter, and deep-fry it. Mom said when the fryer gets going they smell so good you can’t make ‘em fast enough for the people that crowd up. The smell just pulls people to ya. Granpaw says if you could figure out how to sell stuff by smell over TV, you could get "double dog rich." I don’t know what that means really, but it sounds good, I think, at least the rich part.

Mom brought home some broken fried Twinkies for us. They were good, but mom said they tasted better fresh hot out of the fryer. She couldn’t hardly stand the sight of them after the first day. I never saw her eat one.

Dad worked serving Bar B. Q. Baby Back Ribs—on a stick. He says that’s a funny thing about the fair. They sell all kinds of food on a stick. Granpaw says it’s a tradition. Says he was the first vendor to batter dip and fry a chunk of cheese on a stick about twenty-four years ago. He said he started the whole on-a-stick food thing. I don’t know if he really did, sometimes he just says things ‘cause they sound good. He said back then the only thing ya could get on a stick was corn dogs and some kinds of ice-cream.

By Tuesday, Granpaw said they needed more help in the concession stands and he’d rather pay family than foreigners, so I got to go work at the Oklahoma State Fair. I thought my sister would get to go too, but Granmaw an Mom did a funny thing. They enrolled her in the Dell City Public Schools. She didn’t like it much at first, but she didn’t get to choose. Mom told her it was just for right now and that she didn’t want to fall behind and disappoint Mrs. Taylor when we went back home. That’s her first grade teacher; she just loves Mrs. Taylor. That settled her down and she went right off to school without crying.

I fried Twinkies for twelve hours that first day. When one would break, I got to eat it. I ate a bunch the first hour. I didn’t break any on purpose. I was just learning how to do it and sometimes they just fell apart. After the first six hours, I couldn’t eat any more. After ten hours, I couldn’t hardly stand to smell ‘em. Now, it makes me a little sick just thinking about ‘em.

Standin’ over the fryer that long makes you feel greasy: greasy skin, greasy hair, greasy clothes. Grease would drip on the floor—you couldn’t help it when you got to frying them fast. It got so you could skate around on it, but Granmaw doesn't like foolishness while workin'. All the grease smelled like fried Twinkies. After you were good and sick of the Twinkies you got to thinking only crazy people would be buyin’ them to eat. I showered for an hour that first night and washed my hair three times.

My second day, Granpaw said I was working good enough to get a break for lunch and dinner. I didn’t have any money to buy food, couldn’t stand the Twinkies, and don’t really like ribs, so Granpaw taught me about “barter.” He fried up a perfect Twinkie and went to the back doors of the other concession booths, offering to swap for whatever they were making. He got me a turkey leg, on a stick of course. It was pretty good. After I learned how to barter, I could have almost anything I wanted. Sometimes other vendors would come knockin at our back door with something to barter and I didn't even have to go lookin' to trade. Usually I could find someone who wanted one or the other, Twinkies or ribs, so for the rest of the week I just bartered through the whole on-a-stick menu.

I made a list of everything I tried:

Twinkie on a stick, of course.

BBQ baby back ribs on a stick.

Turkey leg on a stick.
Cheeseburger on a stick.

Hoagie on a stick.
Hamburger on a stick.

I think they put some of the stuff on a stick just so they can say it's "on a stick."

Ice cream on a stick, four kinds!

Teriyaki beef on a stick.

Corn dog on a stick.

Pork Chop on a stick.
Pickle on a stick.
Funnel Cake on a stick.
Catfish on a stick.
Popcorn Ball on a stick.

Broccoli on a stick, really gross. Broccoli is still Broccoli.

Cheesecake on a stick.

Baked Potato on a stick.
Spaghetti on a stick, really strange.
Frozen grapes on a stick.
Deep-fried Oreo on a stick.
Bacon on a stick.
Caramel Apple on a stick.
Eggroll on a stick.
Choc covered banana rolled in nuts on a stick.

Gator on a stick, greasy, but taste like chicken.
Chicken on a stick, three different kinds, some of 'em didn't taste like chicken.

Sausage and roll on a stick.
Frog Legs on a stick.
Caramel Pear on a stick.
Pizza on a stick.
Steak on a stick.
Jalapeno on a stick.

Deep-fried garlic mashed potatoes on a stick.
Meatballs on a stick.
Cajun Quail on a stick.
Shrimp on a stick.
Lamb on a stick.
Cheese on a stick.

Fried Coke on a stick. It's kind of like a funnel cake made with Coke syrup in the batter and Coke syrup drizzled all over. Taste okay, but I like my Coke with fiz.

Pecan Pie on a stick.
Fried Marshmallows on a stick.
Deep-fried corn on the cob on a stick, really good.
Fried praline on a stick.
Fried peanut butter, banana, and jelly sandwich on a stick.

Fried macaroni and cheese on a stick. I took some to my sister. She liked them cold, yuck.

And my all time favorite,

deep-fried Snickers on a stick,
I had four one day, was sick all night.

* * *

I’m back now, but not for long. Mom and I came back in the van—spent a bunch of her Twinkie money on gas. We’re gettin’ the rest of the stuff from our apartment. There's not much that's ours. She’s been sneakin’ around actin’ all hangdog (that’s what Granpaw calls it). I think we still owe rent.

Dad finally got Virgil on the phone. The boat shop is closed—Virgil is taking the insurance money and retiring my Dad said. We’re going to be stuck stayin’ on with Granmaw and Granpaw for a while.

My sister is still in school in Dell City and begged me to take Mrs. Taylor this letter.

I’m withdrawing from B'wood today and going to Dell City next week.

The fair’s over, so no concession jobs ‘til next year. I might be able to eat a Fried Twinkie On A Stick again by then.

Dad’s going to work at Sooner Fiberglass in Oklahoma City.

Mom’s looking for a job.

My sister cried a lot, but I’m not gonna.