#320 Walkin Tacos

I was in Yelm recently at their annual Prairie Days celebration. I had a great time. Yelm is at that cusp between small town and burgeoning metropolis that made our country great. They still have that enthusiasm of youth that makes them think that anything is possible. Things are growing helter-skelter but, like boomtowns of the past, that doesn’t seem to matter, that they are merely growing is a good thing, after years of languishing on the prairie as the bastard stepchild of Olympia. Prairie Days reminded me of my own childhood. Us hotshot kids would go to the county fair and make nuisances of ourselves. We were too cool to be entertained by the likes of corny carnivals and smelly 4-H animals but there we were. Small towns across the country share the same “there’s nothing to do” boredom of disaffected youth. What was really interesting to me was that these modern kids presumably had the evil internet and video games and email and texting and all manner of electronic connectedness that today’s youth sports and yet here they were at a cheesy carnival, riding spinning pukers and wolfing down elephant ears just like we did. Sauntering past all the booths of their elders, many of them designed to reach out to youth with constructive summer activity alternatives. The only alternative the kids sought was interfacing with the carnys, those romantic representatives of youthful wanderlust. Their modern circus, and potential ticket out of this stifling village and see the world, ironically, one small town at a time. Of course the kids would swing into their parents or relatives booths for some food—like walking tacos. Madison Avenue has nothing on small towns for creative marketing ideas. The McKenna Boy Scout Pack 64’s got walking tacos. Bipedal locomotion is always a dangerous direction to take when naming food, just in case a little too much time in the sun for the sour cream or a little breeze blowing out the Sterno under your chafing dish promotes some bacterial growth and your walking increases speed in your digestive tract to a, um, trot. What was that cool Taco Bell slogan, run for the border? That was Madison Avenue. They should know better. Foreign food and anything to do with running is not good. In any event the walking tacos were a great blend of home-cooked and junk food. The perfect Boy Scout “be prepared” hodgepodge of make-do culinary resourcefulness. You take a small bag of nacho cheese Doritos, pour em in a paper boat, add hamburger, cheese and lettuce, smother with salsa and sliced jalapenos and you got a semi-taco semi-nacho semi-snack food, Perfect to stroll around the park and snarf with your friends. And as a carnival souvenir you get that lingering Dorito cheese powder under your fingernails for a late night computer snack.
America, ya gotta love it.