We count down the Top 6 types of people you see at every state fair — quick, snarky, and painfully accurate. I got the idea after the Minnesota State Fair and the Tilt‑A‑Whirl hit 100 years, so yeah, nostalgia + fried food = material. You’ll hear about the dad hauling an oversized Spongebob like it’s his trophy, the kid mourning a floppy goldfish, and the guy trying to win a date with milk bottles (keep trying, buddy). We poke fun at the rides (the Tilt‑A‑Whirl’s basically been spinning since weekends became a thing) and serve up fast jokes between bites of corn dog. I won’t spoil the top spot — it’s worth the wait — so hop in, laugh, and mark your fair‑people bingo.

Takeaways:

• We celebrated the Minnesota State Fair and the Tilt-A-Whirl hitting the 100-year mark, which is wild.
• I joked about parents wondering whether to put their kid on a century-old ride — classic fair parent energy.
• We contrasted old rides' 'just hold on' vibe with new rides that lock you in like racecar cargo.
• The Morning 6-Pack ran a quick list of six fair characters — think oversized SpongeBob dads and dead-goldfish tears.

The Minnesota State Fair kicked off Thursday, celebrating 100 years as well as the Tilt A Whirl.

Yeah, parents having to answer the question, do I want to put my kid on a 100-year-old ride?

The Tilt World turned 100 years old, which is wild.

So the Tilt A Whirl is old enough to remember when weekends became official.

Still out here spinning children like loose change in a dryer.

Now, to be fair, the Tilt World's not a rickety wooden roller coaster with boards that remember the Coolidge administration.

It's a classic flat ride as the cars rotate around the center and go up and down the little hills and spin on their own.

And it's a simple concept.

I mean, it's a terrible choice after a corn dog, but it's a simple concept and it was apparently built really well.

And historians in the whole ride world say it's stood the test of time because of how it was made, which is comforting mostly.

I mean, older rides have a different feeling.

These new rides lock you in like you're cargoing a NASCAR ship.

Older ones feel like they were designed by a guy who said, eh, just hold on, don't be weird.

It'll be alright.

And that's kind of part of the charm.

The Tilt of World is a century old reminder that America's favorite fair tradition is eating fried food and trusting bolts and nuts and pretending motion sickness is family fun.

I mean, we've had Gravit Day and the grape festival.

The Washington County Fair just wrapped up.

And let's be fair though, as much as the rides and the Tilt of worlds and the Ferris wheels are great.

We don't, we don't go to fairs for the rides.

We go so we can see one of the top six types of people you see at every state fair.

Best way to start your day, these six jokes.

He's about to say, listen up for old hate spaghetti.

I said state fair.

I mean any fair, county fair, city fair, you know, Top six types of people you see at every fair.

Number six, the dad stuck, lugging around an oversized stuffed spongebob.

Number five, the crying child holding a bag with a dead goldfish.

Number four, the guy trying to impress his date at the milk bottle knockdown.

Keep trying, buddy.

Number three, the Tilt a whirl operator with a faded white power tattoo.

Number two, the mom licking her thumb to wipe off melted chocolate from her kid's face.

Aw.

And the number one type of person you see that each and every fair.

The champion Hog collar who sounds like he got his acorns caught in a zipper.