Even though I’d almost talked myself out of visiting (the weather today isn’t the greatest either — cloudy and cold), the absence of rain for the first time in weeks (or so it seems) and an encouraging call from Clare convinced me. We started out as we normally would, with sausage-on-a-stick and waxed cup beer at Hans Mueller’s Beer Garden and Tent of Bavarian Delights. These were good appetizers for the main sugar-shock event ahead of us. (We had planned to try two new food products today: Fried Birthday Cake and the Fried Cookie Monster Bar (Clare also wanted to try Fried Butter — she hadn’t gotten a taste yet).)

So we slowly meandered south along Nimitz toward Abel Gonzales’s Shack of Fried Dainties. (Abel is the Fair’s Fried Food Savant — his creations are yearly winners for both taste and creativity, and he is the purveyor of not only Fried Butter, Fried Birthday Cake, and Fried Cookie Monster Bars but also Fried PB&J, and Fried Cookie Dough. He is, in short, a genius of the highest order.) As we got closer to Abel’s however, we were stopped — a huge throng of fairgoers had gathered around the Shack, with quite a few very imposing members of our local SWAT team thrown in for good measure. Here was the scene:

At first, we thought we were witnessing the end of a fight. The thought of fairgoers getting rowdy while waiting in the Fried Butter line makes me giggle now, but the mass of humanity and the cops left few viable explanations. Regardless, we stood, surveying the scene for a couple of minutes and listening to the whispers making their way through the crowd. Finally, an excited lady to our left pulled out a cell phone and proceeded to have the following breathless conversation:

“Mama! Mama!

Turn OFF the TV and listen to me!

Are you listening?! Mama! I’m at the Fair and OPRAH is COMING!

Mama! LISTEN!

She’s gonna eat the Fried Butter!

RIGHT IN FRONT OF US!”

And then we knew. Now, if you don’t live in Dallas, you probably haven’t heard that Oprah Winfrey is visiting our Great State Fair this year and taping her show from the Chevy Main Stage tomorrow, October 12th. Here in Dallas, it’s been pretty big news. Not in the least surprising, if you ask me — if I were Oprah, I’d make plans to visit the BIGGEST and BEST State Fair too (and I’d make it a yearly tradition) — but big news nonetheless. Fair-lover (and Oprah-appreciator) that I am, I’d nonetheless not made plans to be there on the day of the taping — the entire endeavor sounds like probable mayhem to me… and I like my Fair calm and quiet, if you don’t mind. In short, Clare and I certainly weren’t expecting to see Oprah out at the Fair a day before the moment of her appointed appearance.

And yet she was coming. And Clare and I had somehow managed to position ourselves in the smack-dab middle of the area in question (Abel’s Shack of Fried Dainties) at the perfect time (when Oprah was hungry). After we waited for a few minutes and watched Oprah’s busy crew and the cops make everything perfect, Oprah arrived:

Looking “duded-up” (as we say in Texas) in her boots, jeans, and cowboy hat, this lady was obviously ready for a Fair visit and happy as could be. As you can see from all the bystanders’ smiling faces, she received a warm Texas welcome.

She and her good friend Gayle King sampled the Fried Butter, chatted with Abel and his staff, and passed out a few samples of the yummy stuff to some of the bystanders. We couldn’t hear a bit of it from our vantage point, but I’m quite sure we’ll get the full effect when the show airs. Nice gazillionaire that she is, Oprah also passed out a huge sheaf of Fair coupons to the crowd and convivially shook hands with many of those assembled:

She then headed back toward her motorcade…

(I think every motorcade should have horseback-police)

…and bade us a fond farewell as she moved on to her next State Fair delight.

Oprah, I love that you came out to the Fair at Sunday Brunch time. Now that you’re beginning to understand the power, greatness, and overall fun of the State Fair of Texas, I hope that fond Fair memories are beginning to fill up that brilliant noggin of yours.

Finally, Oprah, let me say that I think you’ve ABSOLUTELY picked the CORRECT team to win next weekend’s RED RIVER SHOOTOUT:

That’s right, girl — HOOK ‘EM HORNS!!!

And that, gentle reader, is what happens when you innocently arrive for a quiet Sunday brunch at the Fair and attempt to sample some Fried Birthday Cake.

State Fair Magic, folks. It’s all around.

(And no, I never did get my Fried B-Day Cake. (Abel’s booth was a madhouse after the Oprah visit — once she gives you her endorsement, you’re a bona-fide Big-Timer.) Alas. My REAL birthday is on Wednesday, so I think I will simply make a special trip after work.)

Photos by me and Clare. Sad, faraway Blackberry-phone shots are mine. Gorgeous, pore-inspecting close-ups are Clare’s.

Posted in Celebrities, Delicious Food Emporia Tagged: 2009, abel gonzales, Clare, fried birthday cake, fried butter, hook 'em horns, oprah winfrey, Red River Shootout, State Fair, Texas ]]> http://30favoritethings.wordpress.com/2009/10/11/12th-favorite-thing-about-the-2009-state-fair-of-texas-sunday-brunch-with-oprah/feed/ 3 nf1014 Police Oprah 1 Oprah 2 Oprah3 Oprah4 Oprah5 Motorcade Farewell OprahHookEm http://30favoritethings.wordpress.com/2009/10/07/11th-favorite-thing-about-the-2009-state-fair-of-texas-boomerangs-mate/ http://30favoritethings.wordpress.com/2009/10/07/11th-favorite-thing-about-the-2009-state-fair-of-texas-boomerangs-mate/#comments Wed, 07 Oct 2009 13:25:25 +0000 nf1014 http://30favoritethings.wordpress.com/?p=538 ]]> Since inclement weather has (unfortunately) kept me away from the Fair for a few days, I’m afraid I’ve been somewhat amiss in tasting and reporting back on this year’s new food items since my initial findings on Opening Day. I simply haven’t had the opportunity to do enough research yet. I apologize and I’m working on redemption in the form of Fried Birthday Cake, Fried Pizza, and (one of my favorite food names this year) BACON! EXPLOSION! on a Pretzel Roll.

In the meantime, I must recommend to you another well-monikered fried item I had occasion to try with Clare about a week ago. These, folks, are Texas BBQ Boomerangs:

Found on the north side of the Tower building (next to the souvenir booth), these yummy fried pockets of deliciousness fit squarely (or, in this particular case, triangularly) in the “Awesome” category of 2009 New Fair Food. As we learned from the initial mouth-watering description provided to us a few weeks ago, the Boomerangs are actually fried won-ton pastry filled with smoked, chopped brisket and BBQ sauce. Sauce is also served on the side and comes in two varieties: original and “flame-thrower.”

I am embarrassed to say that I was not brave enough to try to ingest something that has been named “flame-thrower.” In recent years, my stomach has inexplicably lost its once-helpful steel-coating and now gives up on me if I’m not careful (a phenomenon I’ve nicknamed, depending on the severity of the pain, either “Pansy Tummy” or “The Alien in My Stomach”).  These Boomerangs looked so tasty that I hesitated to potentially spoil the experience with such an episode. (Those of us who have seen James Cameron’s classic film know that aliens do not respond well to flame throwers. I remember much shrieking and thrashing about, and that’s NOT a situation you necessarily want unfolding inside your stomach.) I WOULD love a report from someone who has tried it, though.

Sauce notwithstanding, these Boomerangs were TASTY!! After years of close study, I am of the opinion that brisket makes everything better, and the Boomerangs are no exception. I took pictures of the inner-workings of the Boomerang, so everyone could better understand the delicious party happening inside the won-ton, but unfortunately, all of the photos came out like this:

Curses!

Let me just say this — what you can’t see is a Grade A mixture of choice, tender brisket chunks, tangy BBQ sauce and… maybe??? cheese? Someone will have to verify that last part for me. I honestly can’t remember, and obviously my photo-journalistic evidence is useless. I CAN tell you that this one gets the seal of approval.

Boomerangs, folks:

Good for throwing in the Outback.

Good for eating in Texas.

Yes everyone, you can now relax as you wander from attraction to attraction (or fried food to fried food) at this year’s Fair.

After (evidently) trading in his GM branding for some super- shiny new Ford armor, Optimus Prime appears to have parked himself on the west lawn outside the Auto Show and will be protecting all fairgoers in the event of a Decepticon attack.

That is one serious truck-monster folks. I did not speak to the salesman as I passed by, but I could swear I heard him tell someone that this could haul a hippopotamus OR a house.

(Or beat the tar out of Starscream, if circumstances necessitated.)

Wow.

I took this picture, but it does not do justice to the size of the Autobot in question. I honestly remember it being at least three times as large as what you see here.

But how do we reconcile the idea of “losing” at the Fair with what we already know? How do we understand a possibly-debilitating Glue-A-Shoe Competition loss in the context of the jovial Fair atmosphere, where, we’ve been informed, there can be

(Yes, I really love this sign.)

Well, folks, we have a solution, provided by the very smart people working in the Creative Arts Department. (If you’ve got a Fair conundrum, this is the group to ask — they are known for their artful problem-solving skills.)

I noticed a few years ago, when I started entering Creative Arts contests, that my least-inspired offerings, those that failed to impress the judges, those did not win beautiful First-, Second-, or Third-place ribbons (or even less-lovely yellow Honorable Mention ribbons) were actually given a particular designation. The Creative Arts staff, volunteers, and judges did not call the also-rans “Losers,” even though that is exactly what they were. These fine people actually devised a name for such offerings that successfully mitigated the sting of defeat and the possible embarrassment of finding that all your hard work landed you not on the winner’s podium but down in the gutter of Loserville.

Yes, readers, in Creative Arts, if you’ve been doomed by your own ineptitude and pushed out of the circle of success, your submitted work is not labeled “Loser.”

What you’ve created is a “Non-Winning Entry.”

It’s a clever name, is it not? Even though you realize that whatever concoction you’ve managed to throw together is nothing less than a big, fat LOSER-Y MESS, “Non-Winning Entry” sounds SO much better. I’m not sure they still do this, but Non-Winners actually received green ribbons at one point. The whole thing makes you feel happy you entered at all, even if your food or craft was so bush-league awful that it stunk up the joint.

I’ll fess up now and tell you that I’ve whipped up exactly TWO Non-Winning Entries so far this year. One in the Casserole Contest and one in “Tricks With Mix.” I’m going to bypass the casserole episode completely. It went terribly wrong and I think it may be best to let it die.

Tricks With Mix is a great contest, however, so I’ll recount my experience this year. The whole point of the competition is to use some sort of pre-packaged, store-bought food mix (be it cake mix, sauce mix, or mix of any kind) for something other than that for which it was originally intended. Winners of this contest are truly cooks of the cleverest sort.

I am obviously not one of these. Pictured below is my entry in the midst of production:

Yes, it looks like peanut butter and cream cheese. Ew.

Actually, the intended result was a dip made out of BBQ sauce mix. I’ll admit it was rather simplistic, but I thought it would work out.

It did not. Here’s how everything looked after the judging on Sunday the 27th:

It WAS edible, I promise. Just lackluster. It didn’t have the fiery, spicy kick I’d imagined. Ah, well. Every Non-Winning Entry is a lesson learned. We decided that this dip would have worked better with texture and more flavor. Next time, I will make it with bits of sausage throughout.

I wonder every year if the Non-Winning Entry attitude pervades other contests throughout the Fair — perhaps those not held in the Creative Arts Building. I discovered this year that in some very special cases, it most certainly does. The very same day I was branded a N.W.E. in Tricks With Mix, my friend Russell competed (for the second year in a row!) in the World Corny Dog Eating Championship, held at the Fair’s Chevy Main Stage.

Now I happen to know Russell well, and I’ve dined with him on several occasions. Though he may look somewhat slight, let me tell you something: Russell can eat. Large quantities. In one sitting. I have, in recent years, actually met a person who calls himself a “competitive eater” (his name is Crazy Legs Conti, he can put away raw oysters like no one you’ve ever seen, and he has actually competed in the Nathan’s Famous Hot Dog Eating Championship on July 4th), but I maintain that Russell could have given the guy a run for his money, given the right food product. Russell is simply that good.

But Russell was laboring under some tough luck on the day of the 2009 World Corny Dog Eating Championship. Not only did he find out only a couple of hours prior to the competition that he had been elevated from his position as Alternate to Bona Fide Competitor #15 (preventing him from preparing appropriately with a pre-competition fast of some sort), but he also suffered from a critical lack of crowd support. Alas, I must admit that Lisa, Suzanne, Clare and I managed to be a rather sad set of cheerleaders that day.

The result? Russell was a Non-Winner. Number 14 out of 15 to be exact, with only three corny dogs under his belt when the allotted 10 minutes ended. It was not his best performance, but I have to admit that all of us were proud of him nonetheless. Most especially because he seemed to be a front-runner for the Mr. Congeniality award — he kept the emcee (and all those assembled nearest his station) FULLY entertained throughout.

I was also quite amazed by his post-competition Pepto-guzzle. He drank an entire bottle. By himself. Here’s evidence:

Add this to Russell’s Non-Winning Octomom Glue-A-Shoe entry and my two cooking contest disasters, and I’d say that between the two of us, we’ve got some serious upgrading to do in terms of our competition efforts.

To that end, I’ve been working on toffee all weekend for this Wednesday’s Candy Contest. My poor co-workers have been forced to taste at least 4 different batches, but I think we’ve finally come up with an entry worthy of something other than a green ribbon. I’m hoping all of this preparation will help me climb out of the Non-Winning sinkhole into which I seem to have dropped this year.

Keep your fingers crossed for me.

(I’m not really sure what can be done for Russell at this point. He may have to wait until next year to redeem himself.)

Thanks to Clare for the Competition photos, and to Russell for just being his wonderful, hilarious self.

Given my extensive research, I had (perhaps arrogantly) assumed that I knew all there is to know about the best food products offered for sale at the State Fair of Texas. And I thought I had covered just about all of them in my Countdown. Boy, was I mistaken! The Professors of Fun made me realize that I’d forgotten one very iconic treat — something you’d expect to find at any Fair, carnival, or circus. Something that is so sweet, delicious, light, and fluffy that eating it really is like putting a sugary cloud in your mouth and letting it slowly dissolve.

That treat is Cotton Candy:

And oh-my-goodness, the Professors know how to get rid of the stuff in a hurry.

In addition to its status as both a classic and a staple of any sort of carnie-anchored event, Cotton Candy also wins extra points for being a “fun food” (I think this applies best when the cotton candy is provided on a stick, rather than in a bag — a technicality), for its portability (you can truly eat it anywhere, at any time), and for its ability to retain its shape and consistency over time. I could be wrong about this, but it seems possible to me that those bags of Cotton Candy could be stored away for weeks on end with absolutely NO effect on the structural (or gustatory) integrity of the food product. Now THAT’S saying something. Most Fair foods lose their taste appeal as soon as they’re no longer warm (in less than 10 minutes). Cotton Candy, on the other hand, has staying power.

And the Professors were quite adamant about making sure I understood and got the full effect of the Cottony sweetness:

Obviously, I’m lucky. Not everyone is fortunate enough to be able to benefit from the wisdom of such experience. Many thanks to Carly, Courtney, Camille, Charlotte, Rebecca, and Talle.

You Professors run a truly top-notch Fair School.

Thanks, too, to Emily & Phillip and Yanela & Randy.

I have certainly not had occasion to go near many of the Midway rides, and you never would have caught me stopping to take advantage of the many, many games of chance. (Though I would certainly LIKE to spend the day hauling around an enormous stuffed animal prize, I must admit that I possess none of the skills necessary to win at these things.)

Until last Sunday. Up to that point, I THOUGHT I knew how to put together a top-shelf Fair visit, including pretty much anything that anyone would ever want to enjoy there. But I was wrong, folks, and I have now seen the error in my ways.

On Sunday morning, I got to visit the Fair with my friends Carly, Courtney, Camille, Charlotte, Rebecca, and Talle, who were kind enough to patiently show me a thing or two that I’d been missing as I blindly bee-lined from fried food to fried food.

Here is a photo of this wonderful group of educators, The Professors of Fun:

Do not let their short stature fool you — this crew is a well-oiled machine when it comes to enjoying the rides and games at the Fair. With military-like precision, they tore up and down the Midway, picking ONLY the BEST things to do. I think their size actually helps them in this regard — not only are they quick and wily, but they they are also able to see things from their vantage point that I had a tendency to miss.

In all, folks, I received an education, and I think it’s only fair to pass along my new knowledge to all of you. So, ladies and gentlemen, I give you

The State Fair of Texas, Kid-Style:

One awesome thing about being a kid at the Fair is the fact that when you get excited about the general terrific-ness of the entire affair and start jumping up and down because you can’t contain yourself, like so…

…it’s no cause for general alarm. It’s acceptable. Even appropriate. Especially if you’ve just been told you’re getting to take yet another trip on the Log Ride.

You say you’ve got a Midway ride that requires some odd body-positioning in order to have fun? I’ll tell you right now that most adults would be squarely in the “Out” category on such a contraption. Not kids.

“So we’ll be laying down, caged in, holding on to bars above our heads?” No problem.

I thought I knew everything there was to know about the Tower Building — where to find the best cinnamon rolls in the world, the fact that the building sells the cheapest beer at the Fair, the location of the cleanest bathroom at the Fair, and exactly how many Frito Pies it takes to make a stomach to feel not-quite-right (if you’re not sharing, the answer is 1). The Professors of Fun showed me an entirely new feature, pictured here:

Yep, an old-school photo booth. Takes me back to junior high, braces, and badly-permed hair. Next time I visit the Fair, I think I will hop in there for some self-portraits with my cinnamon roll. Who knows — if the photos come out well, perhaps some Christmas Cards will be in the offing?

There is, on the Midway, a game that requires exactly as much game-playing skill as I happen to have (which is zero). I have walked past this game perhaps four or five times since the State Fair opened this year, and I missed it every time until The Professors of  Fun showed it to me:

This is the game of Pick a Duck — Any Duck — And Win A Prize. I actually made that name up all by myself. I have absolutely no idea what this game is called, but I do know this: no matter how inept you may happen to be at games of skill (or, really, life in general), it is almost impossible to screw this up. You pick up a duck, check the bottom to find out your prize, and then choose what you want. It’s awesome. Indeed, at this booth, there are

During a usual Fair visit, my compatriots and I have consumed so many goodies that trying out any ride that goes fast in circles is tricky, to say the least. In some cases, it’s just flat-out inadvisable. Watching the Professors of Fun ride the Love Bug, however, I remembered just how much I used to LOVE making myself into a State Fair Centrifugal Force Experiment:

Horseback riding? Check. The Professors of Fun do not shy away from large animals. Some of them are actually accomplished equestrians, and by this I mean riders of real, flesh-and-blood horses that do NOT have poles protruding out of their backs.

No fear here.

My Tour of Rides and Games with The Professors of Fun concluded with the LARGEST SLIDE IN THE WORLD! Well, maybe not the whole world. Maybe just Texas… or Dallas. But it is BIG (and loads of fun, from what I can gather here):

This may be the end of the post, but it’s not the end of my eduction (we never stop learning, you know). The Professors of Fun had much more to teach me, and I promise to impart ALL of their lessons to you.

Part II: Cotton Candy is next. Hold on to your taste buds.

Photos by me and Yanela.

Extra most special thanks to Yanela & Randy and Emily & Phillip for sharing their Fair Day (and The Professors) with me.

Allow me to introduce you to this fine person:

This, folks, is The Sunglasses Lady.

Located on your right-hand side as you travel from Big Tex south down the Midway toward the Cotton Bowl, The Sunglasses Lady is at the Fair to set you right up if you happen to have a sunglasses emergency (or if, like Clare, you actually wait to buy shades each year until you go to the Fair).  The wonderful thing about The Sunglasses Lady is that she does not hold back. She’s exactly the person you’d want to have with you if you’re buying apparel or accessories of any sort.

Put on something ugly and she’s direct with the criticism. I got plenty of “no way,” “not right for your face,” and “yikes — bug eyes!” remarks. But that’s what it takes with glasses-shopping. You must have someone with you who is opinionated and brutal with the honesty. The Sunglasses Lady is such a person. I actually think she’d let you leave her booth empty-handed if you and she were unable to find an attractive sunglasses-match.

It took me about 10 minutes. The Sunglasses Lady, Ann, and I went through about 15 different pairs. But finally, I found them: My State Fair 2009 Sunglasses (when I get a photo, I will post it). Best of all, they were cheap. Only $10, and they are WAY cuter than the far-more-expensive pair I lost that day.

From now on, I may take Clare’s lead and buy my eye-protection from The Sunglasses Lady every year. I wonder if she’s available for other shopping trips? I believe her tough love could be especially useful for a jeans-trying-on expedition.

Does anyone else question the validity of this sort of testing in a place where the de rigeur state of mind for ALL attendees is unmitigated distraction? Would scientists agree that wedging a assessment of this sort between the pig races, fried butter, waxed-cup beer, ginormous BBQ turkey legs, teeth whitening in the Embarcadero, sausages, and VERY LOUD entertainment on the Chevy Main Stage could quite possibly increase the chance of false positives?

Hmmmm…

The State Fair of Texas — the only place IN THE WORLD where you can have your psychiatric disorders diagnosed FOR FREE while enjoying a piece of chicken fried bacon.

Clare actually took this lovely photo. Her comment: “The State Fair is here for you.”

By itself, news of the cinnamon roll’s return was good enough to make Opening Day of the 2009 Fair an altogether terrific experience. What I did NOT expect — what I never could have imagined — was that a food product that I already considered to be so near heaven in its perfection could actually IMPROVE.

Now, I’m not ruling out the fact that my great consternation over the supposed death of the cinnamon roll may have made my first bites this year just a smidge better than usual. But I’ve gotta say that I think the entire affair is, quite simply, FAR SUPERIOR this year.

First of all, I always ask the Cinnamon Roll Booth people to prepare mine with “lots and lots of icing.” I really do want that puppy swimming in it. Even still, I’ve never really felt as though I got much more icing than the next person in line.

On Sunday morning, though, I asked for extra icing. Take a look at what I was given:

Do you SEE that? Not only did they drown the roll in an icing lake, but they also handed me a lovely little plastic container full of the stuff. If only I had saved it for my Fried Peaches and Cream Taste Test!

This is not the only upgrade. I really do think the rolls themselves are better this year. Thicker, fluffier, buttery-er… it all adds up to yummier!

The State Fair Cinnamon Roll — resurrected and better than ever.

Even though I was not personally able to begin my 2009 State Fair experience with a Glue-A-Shoe ribbon, a few other people were. And let me just say that I think the group of winners this year is quite fabulous.

I’m really quite impressed and honestly not sure that I could have been a contender in the midst of the quality craftsmanship and overall cleverness. Especially that of my friend, Lisa Stewart, who has become, over the past few years, a Shoe Gluing Savant, of sorts. She enters multiple categories and tends to win in a BIG way with great ideas that are extremely well-executed. Here are a few of this year’s gems:

I win the prize here for Worst-Focused Picture. Sorry, folks. At any rate, this is Lisa’s tribute to the economic crisis, entitled “SHOEconomy.” Checkbook, foreclosed house, cash for clunkers — she’s included it all here.

Shoe-depictions of current events are usually big winners in this contest… unless EVERYONE decides to cover the SAME current event. This year, there were multiple (as in 5-10) entries illustrating the “Octomom” weirdness. Lisa’s offering just happened to be good enough to rise above them all to become the only winner (sorry, Russell!). And you can see why… smart to use the “old woman who lived in a shoe” analogy, not to mention the attendant paparazzi and the autograph seeker. You can also see that Lisa’s laid out eight bottles and eight baby spoons for the eight children. It’s wonderful, but I think Octomom’s lips could be just a touch fuller.

I’ve already posted a photo of Lisa’s wonderful tribute to Swine Flu. I have to say that this is by FAR my favorite of this year’s bunch. Nice work, Lisa.

My other friend, Ann, has more Glue-A-Shoe blue ribbons than anyone I know. She is a master at this competition, and often has multiple entries herself. She would fully admit to you that it was a slow year in the inspiration department, however (sometimes it just doesn’t happen — the lightning-bolt idea simply does not hit you). Even still, Ann’s entry this year was a solid effort. Clever idea, well executed, and a VERY respectable second place, especially when you consider the very high quality of the other competitors:

Ann’s work, “Bootha” is on the right. Good stuff, no? I want to know where she found that awesome Buddha head. Just looking at that shoe has put me on the road to Enlightenment.

I’d also like to point out the fabulous “Tiramishoe” on the left. Brilliant. I don’t even know what sort of shoe that is, and I think I need a better peek at the entire affair to think about the craftsmanship (It looks like that may actually be LAYERS OF SHOE that have been added to make the “dessert”), but that is some GOOD stuff.

I may update this post with more photos. I admit that I did not take enough when I was in the Creative Arts building the other day.

For everyone thinking about entering this competition next year, I suggest you start working on your ideas now. With a field like this, some slapped-together-the-night-before offering just isn’t going to do it.