I think this particular ride is emblematic of state fairs across the country. Of course there are the newfangled extreme rides, bungee jumps and coma-inducing astronaut G-force vomitoria, but this twirling swing ride hearkens back to a simpler and more artistic time; art and imagination combined to lay a pleasant memory foundation for the young and for those willing to be young at heart.

I took a picture of the same ride last year and when I called up the older image to compare I realized there were a couple of significant differences. I knew on the above shot that the rotation was reversed. I was a bit grumpy about it initially, because I felt the background from last year made for a better shot. But now that I see that one teenager singled out against the backdrop of that beautiful blue sky, I’m not so sure. And the lighting of the ride itself — the painted panels representing an amalgam of Alphonse Mucha, rococo art and Venetian backdrops — is about as good as I can do as a photographer.

This image is from last year, and it seems too cluttered for me now, though at the time I liked the background that included the facade of the Cotton Bowl. But the one redeeming element is the quintessential iconograpy of pure enjoyment in the young woman’s demeanor and expression, hand on straw hat, that transcends time and location.

And it wasn’t until I saw the images side by side that I noticed that in addition to the different rotation, the rides themselves were quite different. This year’s Italianate Venetian Mucha replaced last year’s Tropical Siren Mucha. The colors are appropriate for each rendition, though, don’t you think?

Of course, icons and traditions abound at the Texas State Fair. We have the Big Tex, the original Fletcher State Fair Corny Dogs, livestock shows, sheepherding exhibitions, the Midway, and an annual competition to produce the most instantaneous heart attack food.

Big Tex was in 1949 a much-larger-than-life Santa Claus. But it was purchased and retasked in 1951 to be the welcoming icon for the State Fair. Now, at 52 feet high, with an animatronic moving lower jaw, he greets visitors at the main entrance sporting size 70 boots and a 75-gallon hat.

He sports some new duds this year, including an embossed belt. Last year’s version saw him in a red and blue Dickies shirt.

I couldn’t shoot and hold the corny dog at the same time, so I asked a stranger to hold it up to get the bokeh Big Tex in the background. Then I ate it.

And speaking of edible oddities, we have the following:

Deep-fried guacamole (yes, you read that right). It wasn’t all that good; I couldn’t finish.

Deep-fried Coke (yes, you read that right). I was underwhelmed; I couldn’t finish.

Well, for me, soaring doesn’t mix with deep-fried.

If you want to soar, try the Texas Star, the largest Ferris wheel in North America. On a clear day, and from the top, you can see Fort Worth skyline to the west, some 45 miles away. Each gondola can seat six people for a total capacity of 264 souls — less me. Even in such a benign enclosed caged space, my fear of heights precludes me from going on it, even giving up what must be some spectacular shots.

Remember, for a sense of scale, each of those cages has six mortally endangered bodies in it — it’s a hella long way up and a long way down once I choose to go on it and it all falls over.