From my State Fair of Texas Prize winning recipes cookbook, September 1990. I'm a simple person. I only go to the State Fair to tour food hall exhibits, drink warm beer & eat funnel cake. Then I'm through. DH, on the other hand, likes to experience life extremely from atop large whirly things. He shamed me ( had the nerve to call me chicken!) into riding the tallest Ferris Wheel in North America, the 212 foot Texas Star. After standing in line for 3 days, we boarded the monster along with his brother & wife. And off we go. WHEEEEEE ... After 1/4 revolution (maybe less), I hit my panic quotient. Rather than making a screaming scene, I casually slipped down to the floor of the car, curled into the fetal position & perused my newly acquired cookbook; a real feat with closed eyes. Every now & again, I might have moaned softly but I'm sure they all thought I was really into some great sounding recipe; not afraid or anything. During the 2 weeks we spent suspended at the top awaiting our turn to disembark, I was enticed by Oh, look at that view . Snakelike, I slithered up on the seat, saw Las Vegas & promptly swooned back to the floor where I rationally inserted SIL's ankle into my mouth as a bite block just in case I went into convulsions. (It might have been downtown Dallas that I saw but I'm pretty sure it was LV because I think I saw the sun glint off Wayne Newton's teeth.) I'm quite positive that no one was the slightest bit suspicious when, at ground level once again, I was pulled from the car & carried off fireman style. Bet he never calls me chicken again! I showed him the strong stuff I'm made of!