With urgent purpose, and a sense of the greater good... my first order of business for ALL visits to The Calgary Stampede, is to set a course for the nearest mini donut booth! This is an unspoken rule - a covenant for all of time and eternity - established and confirmed in history.
I hip-check the turnstile, dodge the slow-moving tourists, and avoid eye-contact with the friendly map peddlers. Who needs directions? I am a bloodhound - sniffing the air for the scent of greasy goodness!
I wasn't always addicted to mini donuts. I'm not even sure when it started? I imagine it began during my very first visit to The Calgary Stampede.
A young child with her nose pressed up against the glass, watches a machine drop thick gobs of batter into a molten river of liquefied fat. With wonder and fascination, she follows the path of the deep-fried dough balls as they bob happily toward a miraculous automated flipper at the end of the channel. A joyful gasp escapes her lips when the warm, mouth-watering, golden-hued donuts, are hand-tossed and sprinkled with sugar at the end of their magical journey!
I saw my friends eating them. It seemed harmless enough. You can't get hooked on the first try, right? Observation gradually lead to temptation, which eventually lead to action. By my own hand, I accepted a donut when it was offered to me.
One donut became two, and two donuts became three. I found myself suggesting to 'share a bag' with a friend. Soon, I was buying my own bag of a dozen donuts, and basking in the pleasure of it!
This year... I went a step further! I could purchase a dozen (trans-fat free as of July 2007) donuts for $3, or two dozen for $5. But, somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I recalled the words from a Monty Python movie: "Better get a bucket!" And I did! Thirty-six donuts for $7!
It's probably best that I break this addiction right now. Or at least -like most Calgarians and their cowboy boots, make it a once-a-year indulgence! If not, there's no telling where it could lead...
A woman - created with a penchant for all things sweet, and only a modicum of self-control, buys her own mini donut making machine! In a cozy corner of her basement, she churns out an assembly line of delight! Motivated by her desire to share 'the bread of life' (and by having been rejected by Woman's World - yet again! Grrr!), she seeks gainful employment by selling her mini donuts to friends and co-workers. The addictive properties of the donuts prove overwhelming; and things quickly digress! Her children become mules - transporting the tasty merchandise to kids on the playground. ("I'd do anything for $12.50 an hour! It beats washing dishes at Montana's." says eldest child.) Her neighbours complain about the increase in traffic. The power company notices a surge in electricity. In a successful Police raid, the four hundred pound woman is removed from the premises by forklift; and the mini donut making machine is confiscated, and relocated to an undisclosed precinct staff lounge. The dough-op is shut down!
As far as The Calgary Stampede goes... the rodeo events, and the chuckwagon races are captivating; the stomach-swirling midway rides are exciting; and people-watching opportunities are an endless source of entertainment! (Oy! Ladies, please remember that Daisy Duke shorts, and bra-free tanktops are a privilege - not a rite. If it didn't look good in front of the mirror at home... it won't look any better worn inside Nashville North. I'm just saying...) BUT, as far as I'm concerned... nothing on the Stampede grounds, compares to the lure of those dang mini donuts!
