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Lisa's |
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Living in New York, I am fortunate to enjoy the change of seasons. Just when I get fed up with the cold, dreary, winter months, spring appears, and summer is soon to follow, as people, places, and things quickly defrost. The local park, which is a ghost town all winter, except for a few of us who bundle up and venture forth with our daily walks, is brought back to life with vibrancy. Suddenly, the barren terrain is a wonderland of activities, from the children laughing on the swings and slides, to the gentlemen challenging one another to a game of racket ball. Rollerbladers glide by and golfers show off their finely tuned strokes. The world’s a stage; the park’s a playground. Choose your pleasure. Along with the hot and humid climate on the horizon,
come beaches, pools, block parties, and carnivals.
I treasure sitting on the beach and swimming in refreshing pools.
I despise sunburns, and therefore, am obsessed with sunscreen and must be
lathered up prior to feeling completely at ease spending a few hours basking in
the sun. I haven’t ever attended a block party in my
neighborhood, as I’m lucky to get a passing wave or hello from someone living
a house or two away. I can’t
speak, or write, for anyone else, but around here, people tend to keep to
themselves and do whatever they do. Interaction
is mostly by chance and not the preferred choice, given one. I find it odd how easy it is to strike up conversations with
people elsewhere, however, fraternizing with the neighbors is another story.
Perhaps it has something to do with personal space. Now, carnivals are a sure sign of warm weather
festivities. They’re packed with
lots of action, from thrilling rides to cotton candy and rigged games.
There was one game in particular that I recall, not exactly rigged,
however, I never figured out the trick. The
person running the booth would offer demonstrations, so I knew it was possible
somehow. The game consisted of three circular disks that were to be
carefully dropped in such a way as to cover a large circle on the counter.
At my father’s suggestion, I tried simulating the game at home as best
I could; I had never seen any customer master the skill and wanted to be the
first. Without knowing the circumference of the circles, I couldn’t duplicate
the trick. So my efforts were useless. One time, my friend’s brother, Tommy, attempted that
particular game. He dropped the
disks over the larger circle, but not completely.
Since the vendor wasn’t watching at the moment, Tommy sneakily tried to
adjust the disks. Even finagling,
the stunt seemed impossible to conquer. So,
we all gave up and moved on to some other activity, one more productive…like
the dunking booth. The carnival memory that will undoubtedly follow me like
a shadow pertains to a ride that I had the horror of experiencing.
You see, I made a very grave mistake:
Getting on an unfamiliar ride without witnessing its entire operation.
I saw it while approaching the finish line and presumed I had seen the
whole enchilada. Oh, was I wrong.
I’m not much of a thrill seeker and this was some thrill.
Everything was fine until something, to my surprise, unlatched, spun the
“car” sideways, and intensified the speed.
I went beyond screaming and think I was sobbing like a baby by the time
the torture chamber came to a screeching halt.
I had never felt so relieved to set foot on solid, still, ground as I was
on that day. Dizzy and nauseous, I
abandoned the carnival before relishing the cotton candy I had been accustomed
to enjoying over the years. That
one bad experience disrupted tradition; one I haven’t yet recaptured. So, here we are, it’s almost that time of year again.
I’m looking forward to a day at the beach, a swim in the pool, and
continually absorbing all the healthy benefits the park can offer.
I’ll manage without block parties, as always.
However, I may attend a couple of carnivals within the next four or five
months, as I like the lively atmosphere and wouldn’t mind some cotton candy
for the sake of old times. And I’ve learned all too well that games aren’t the
only deceptions to be wary of. I’m
smarter now. After all, I’ve
already been taken for a ride.
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