Here we are into the first full week of September when we start getting the idea that summer is just about done with. In a little over two weeks is the autumnal equinox, and you can bet your sweet bippy things will be cooling down a bit. Even if you don’t even know what a bippy is.

I guess I’m showing my age again, by using a turn of phrase that Millenials and younger have to look up on the internet for the meaning. Personally, it doesn’t seem so long ago that people hip to the jive were tossing out phrases like, “can you dig it?” or “sock it to me” or “catch you on the flip side.”

Frankly, I can’t remember socking anything to anybody, asking someone to dig a hole, or showing anyone my flip side. Even when I tried being a hippie for a while.

Confidentially, my son told me one time that I’m his living history book for the 1960s.

Before I get too far ahead of myself, in Albuquerque the state fair begins today, and to be perfectly honest I haven’t been to it for probably 15 years or so, not since I went up there to write about Socorro’s  Jamie Girard when she was in the running for State Fair queen. So, yeah, it’s been a while, but you might think about giving it a look-see. If you can afford the parking.

I jest, of course, but add $10-$20 for parking to the $12 admission, and that runs into money unless you admit to being eligible for senior admission and save $4.

Not that I’m really, really old, but I have learned to appreciate the merits of trundling around the house in slippers on the weekends.

Speaking of which, I came to the realization one day last week that I was wearing what kids call “dad” clothes. In other words, nothing was trendy, nothing matched, and here’s the kicker…nothing was uncomfortable. Although I’ve never laid claim to having matured, the comfort over style factor may be one sign of maturity.

But as a dad – make that granddad – I confess to spouting off that’s come to be known as Dad Jokes. To wit:

What’s brown and sticky? A stick.

Two guys walked into a bar. The third guy ducked.

How do you get a country girl’s attention? A tractor.

Why did the coach go to the bank? To get his quarterback.

How does a penguin build his house? Igloos it together.

Why do melons have weddings? Because they cantaloupe.

What does a house wear? Address.

But I digress.

One reason to brave the throngs at the state fair is one of my guilty pleasures; to taste test some of the exotic food concoctions. For example, I’m curious to try the deep-fried green chile cheeseburger or deep-fried ice cream wrapped in fry bread. From what I hear, they’ve also got a deep-fried chile relleno chile cheese dog, bacon corndogs, deep-fried taco green chile cheese curds, and, oh my goodness, a bacon-wrapped deep-fried green chile pig in a blanket. Not to mention green chile pepperoni funnel cakes, and a cotton candy burrito. Nobody’s too mature for cotton candy, are they?

State fairs across the country have their own gastronomic absurdities, tempting us hedonistic mortals to gaze into the abyss of indulgence and epicurean gratification. I’m talking about X-treme junk food.

Depending on which state you’re in you can feast on a Flamin’ Hot Cheetos funnel cake, Fruity Pebbles funnel cake, peanut butter spicy jelly Tater Tots, gelato nachos, a pickle pizza, and a maple-infused breakfast sausage inside a Belgian waffle covered in peanut butter.

Wait. Stop. Just hand me a greasy turkey leg and I’m a happy dude.

While we’re talking about food, I can’t let this go unreported, but Monday was that fateful day in 1916  the first-ever supermarket opened its doors, and it was none other than Piggly Wiggly. It’s the store that introduced checkout stands, refrigerated cases, and prices marked on each item. It was also the first to feature a full line of nationally advertised brands.

But that last one can make things confusing, at least for me. I mean, I’m the one staring at the chips shelves for a full five minutes trying to decide if I want Fritos or the house brand knock-off.

And on this date in 1776, the U.S. Congress officially changed the name of our nation from United Colonies to The United States of America. I wonder that if, at that moment, everybody in Congress stood up and chanted, “TUSOA! TUSOA! TUSOA!”

Oh, don’t forget National Grandparents Day this Sunday.  I’ve only been at this grandparenting game for just a few years and wouldn’t trade it for anything. Sometimes when I get to feel like just an old chunk of coal, thinking about my two grandkids makes me feel like a 24-carat diamond.