If you’re an Oklahoman, chances are at least once in your life you’ve made the short jaunt to the town of Rush Springs for their world-famous Watermelon Festival; it’s an Okie rite-of-passage that I finally decided to take upon myself this past Saturday, conveniently as they celebrate their 75th year of seed-spitting wantonness.
Even in the 104-degree heat, hundreds (thousands?) of people made it out to not only sinfully covet some of the best, biggest, and ripest melons in the biz, but to also enjoy the wicked carnival atmosphere that I and my festival-loving pal Jodie walked right into; like a small section of the State Fair transplanted to Jeff Davis Park, the Music Express, the Sizzler and the Zipper—all real ride names, mind you—were in full swing, literally, for only a few tickets.