When I was as a kid in California I remember the carnivals springing up throughout the summer. Trucks unloaded and rides, tents and booths were set up for a few days, bright colors were everywhere and then as quickly as they arrived they were broken down and packed up to hit another destination leaving behind empty pavement and little remnants of what was just there. It was all so exciting when they arrived and I would try to go at least two nights in a row. I never liked the circus but the carnival was an amazing place to visit, a transient world within a world.

And it was especially beautiful at night.
There was just something so incredibly magical and it seemed as though anything was possible. It was like walking through living magic.

Colored lights draped under the sky strung from tent to tent and carneys were all around, some with cake makeup on their faces and others dressed in costumes walking through the crowds selling toys or cotton candy. Music played and as I walked around- there was laughter everywhere along with shrieks, the noise of the rides and the carneys beckoning you into a tent or a booth or to a ride with their singsong rhymes. It was a beautiful cacophony of sounds.

I loved walking behind the tents and along the campers and trucks. I remember most of the campers were pretty small and sometimes I could hear music coming from a radio or voices from within a camper if the door was open. I have to say that this was my favorite part, even over the rides. Sometimes someone would see me and ask me if I was having a good time or what my favorite ride was or if it I was lost. I think back now and here I was a kid of 8 or 9 wandering along the back of a carnival at night, I guess I might have looked lost but I knew I was where I wanted to be.

And then there was the Ferris wheel. All lit up at night she looked like the Queen of the Carnival, the mother of all rides. I especially loved when the wheel stopped with me at the very top; I would rock the basket back and forth until my head was where my knees should be. And the music was always so loud on the wheel. Some girls would squeal when they were stopped at the top, usually older girls with their boyfriends. I knew they were only making noise to get attention from the boy they were with-- little girls are pretty wise to that kind of thing. I’d watch, as the boy would put his arm around her to comfort her as I sat waiting for one more chance at the top.

Games of chance were usually the booths I’d hit last before I left, a cooling off period. The people running the booths were usually talkative and fun. I remember asking one guy how he joined the carnival and his answer was something to the effect of, “there was nothing else for me to do!” It struck me funny, like how does one join a traveling carnival? But here they were – all these people together in a traveling family.
The folks running the booths would cheer us on to hit the bottle with the ball or toss the ring on the bottle in order to win the stuffed animal. Mostly I remember boys trying to win them for their girlfriends. Few won the big stuffed animals, I know I never did but that was ok.

I liked the gypsy tents even though I knew the she was a fake and so was my fortune.

I am not sure why this came up except that I woke up and realized that it’s June 8th, my dad’s birthday. I have had some thoughts lately of a place that seems carnival-like and it makes me smile.
My dad would have been 82 years old today and he loved to make me smile…he was a sweet joker. And I guess carnivals remind me of him and his free spirit.
Funny the things we associate our loved ones with…but I think he would like this connection…no, I know he would smile and laugh at it.

Carnivals are full of fun, surprises, excitement, magic and wanderlust and taking chances. That pretty much sums him up like a snap. And there is still a remnant of him left behind.

carnival




magic mirror




the New Orleans doctor