carny love
If I’m ever pregnant again—which would begin with myself and a random passerby on the street with a c-pooch fetish being even remotely inclined—post categories will be
:: GOALIE, GOALIE, WHEREFORE WERE THOU, GOALIE?
:: THE WONDERFUL WORLD OF STRESS-INDUCED ALL-OVER BODY RASH
:: HELP! MY RANDOM PASSERBY RAN AWAY TO MEXICO AND I CAN’T GET UP
:: MY RANDOM PASSERBY RAN AWAY TO MEXICO AND ALL HE GOT ME WAS THIS UNEXPECTED FETUS
Until spring 2010, posts tagged THE NEXT GESTATION are about the Distant but Apparently Assured Published Novel because I figured after all the mess of last year, you’d know better than to expect Justin to share his popcorn with me ever again.
Just so you know.
++++
Weaving through the midnight crowd at the Shediac Lobster Festival, I lusted for my camera and for several more hours.
I love the signs, the lights, the cigarette butts, the relentless BING! BING! BING! BA-OOOGA! WEEDEEWEEDEEWOOO! BIDDI BIDDI BLEEPIE DEEP! and the bass thump and the shouted step-right-ups of competing game hosts. The teensy booths, each with their purpose—tickets by the roll, cotton candy, frankenfood-on-a-stick—all lined with teen sensations stuffed like sausages into polyester tube tops.
And the carnies, of course. Like the one who bared what may have once been a full set of teeth and winked: a lady such as yourself can ride my dragon for free.
Turning a corner to see this spinning upside-down about six hundred feet above our heads, grasping Justin’s arm like don’t you even … no… I can’t… I… okay but quick, before I change my mind… holy shit… HOLY SHIT it’s going higher. Ooooooh, oh no. Oh my UNHOLY CRAP. Tell me I am not IN LINE TO GET ON THAT THING.
$5.00 each for ten minutes of waiting, three minutes of hanging there as they lock us in, and a mere 45 seconds in flight but OH MY BILLY-BE-FRIGGING-JEEZUS, I’ll park myself aboard the Cosmic Upchucker for an entire day screaming my head off with joy until my voice runs out.
I love fairs. Even when the highlight is Bill Lynch’s Zipper in the parking lot of the Lower Sackville Mini-Mart, I skip around grinning stupidly because I’m addicted to being stomach-turningly freaked while staring down whatever’s in front of me and saying ahh, screw it… sure, why the hell not?*
* provided of course that said amusement propels at such a velocity so as to neatly soak the person directly opposite me, rather than myself, in the event that I barf.
sweetsalty kate
13 Comments
Reader Comments (13)
Love it. Love this post.
Kate,
Sorry this comment has nothing to do with the attached post.
I just finished reading almost all of your blog and needed to say thanks. I had stumbled upon your story in the middle, and was compelled to read it from the beginning.
It was agony, reading your earlier posts, so full of irreverence and humour and an almost youthful innocence, knowing the future, knowing that you were eventually going to give birth to twins and one would be lost. Your writing changed afterwards, as your self did, it became more evocative, eloquent, magical, hauntingly beautiful.
I cried for Liam, his spirit is so strong it can be felt all the way across the plains to this other ocean. Thank you for introducing me to him.
Why can't we all stay innocent, unscarred?
Oh candice, thank you for saying hello. There have been a few like you who have emailed me or commented waaaay back... it is eerie, yes... I don't look at the old posts much at all, and when I do its like I'm a ghost from the future.
Thanks for being here, and for the kindness.
You know, I think there is something about doing what looks very scary, but you know has to be safe, all buckled in and all. Somehow, I am a roller coaster girl, not the swing me upside down kind. But I get the attraction, in general terms. And I too love to walk among the booths and listen to the surreal stuff that emanates therefrom. There are also some booths I tend to waste my money at, knowing full well I am wasting it.
Lobster Festival?! I was just telling dh I would kill for a live lobster... I need to get out of this desert, I need seafood. live ones.
Glad you had fun.
I used to love Bill Lynch rides... I would go on everything scary over and over again until I barfed, then I'd have a blue raspberry sno-cone, and then do it all again.
I get nauseous just looking at those rides now. Somewhere along the line my fear of machines assembled in 24 hours by carnies overcame my sheer joy at being completely terrified.
I loved this post. It's almost - almost! - convinced me that I should try to ride something horrific this fall when the fair comes to Hali. ;)
Great post and even better when I saw the reference to Shediac - this Scottish person from Edinburgh was in the lovely town of Shediac only a week or two ago! In fact, if my two boys had had their way, we would still be there, sitting on that flipping lobster.
LOVE the scrambler. Want to puke, but LURVE it. Hate those Apple things though.
Didja climb the giant lobster?
A week or two ago? Heck Loth, we could have ridden the Cosmic Upchucker together! Maybe we did.
Thor, I have never climbed the lobster. (hangs head in shame)
oh man, imagine a polyester tube top on that spinny-swinging-upside down thing?! yikes, sounds like a fashion disaster! (ever see the Price is Right footage from the 70's when that lady came running down the aisle..."c'mon down!")
i'm like you, the build up, the waiting while buckled in, the eager anticipation of the scare the shit out of me and possibly may involve public projectile vomiting makes me about as giddy as a kid all over again.
love this post.
You made my day. I remember that I was ALWAYS the one who would take the dare to ride the most shitasticly scary rides at the carnivals. But the pure fact was - I love every minute of it. Thanks for the trip down memory lane!
Awwwww... I suppose any of us who read your writing feel close to you in that far-apart-Internet way, but I felt an extra pinch of sisterliness when I discovered you're a fellow Maritimer. A fellow Bluenoser, even (!), since I spent my high school years just down the road from you in Chester. And NOW! Well goodness, I'm right here in Moncton... we could have had tea when you stopped by the Lobster Fest. :)
Kate, you capture the vibrancy and excitement of the mid-way PERFECTLY. I had just about made my peace with not getting to our county fair this week, until I read this. Now, I'm not so sure.
I only ever go on the Zipper and other horror shows BEFORE visiting the food concessions, though. And I try to make sure I've got any change in my pocket or keys properly secured before boarding. Which is fine, because it usually takes a while to convince myself its a good idea!