Santa and the Carnival only Come Once a Year (Thank Goodness)

The annual carnival has arrived in my ordinarily sleepy town.  With it comes the sights, lights, smells, and funnel cake.  It’s appealing from a distance.  The Ferris wheel turning, the high pitched shrieks, the smell of fried corndogs.  It beckons you, calls your name, casting a magical cotton candy trance over your entire body.  One giant step across the thick, black cables lying across the parking lot, and there is no turning back.  But be warned:  underneath the canopy of flashing colorful lights walking amongst us you’ll find a smorgasborg of tattoos, facial piercings, colored hair, women in skimpy clothes shaking what they shouldn’t, and fat men in their pajama bottoms.  The carnival is able to bring out a vast number of oddities from the human race.  Really the kind you only find on

It is quite a paradox to me why Hollywood never tells the truth.  Steel Magnolias has a wonderful Christmas carnival scene with a cast of clean people, Southern belles, fresh baked goodies, and carnies with teeth.

Not so much here.

Jason and I sat on a bench, ate carnival fare, were harrassed by the carnies pestering us to throw darts at their balloons for $5 a dart, and people-watched as Ashlynn ran amuck with other preteen girls giggling and gossipping.  Not unlike a lot of adult girls.

Occasionally we took a notion to walk around where we witnessed a grown man holding on to a large gray trashcan barfing.  A little boy tossed his cookies on my nephew’s back as they were getting off  of The Storm.  His momma had to run across the street to the nearest Hastings and buy him a new shirt.

Fun times, folks, fun times.

On our 349th trip around the midway (can I call it that?) we walked upon 4 or 5 cops talking to a couple who were hanging on to each other for stability.  Then the man points to my husband, “Jason!  I know this guy.  Jason!”  The air reeked of alcohol, the couple stumbled around trying to stay upright.  The officer was talking into his little radio on his shoulder.  “Jason, will you give me a ride?  You’ll give me a ride won’t you?”  Of course my husband nods.  He knows this fella.  He knows what its like to be down on your luck, needing a helping hand.  “Talk to this officer, Jason.”   We stood there with the cops and the drunks as the main cop talked into his shoulder.  Then the police said to take them home, and to make sure they don’t get out again. I stayed at the carnival with Ashlynn and hoped that drunk lady didn’t puke in my car while Jason delivered them safely home where they more than likely fell on the bed and watched the room spin.  Kind of like a super hero isn’t he?  Keeping the streets safe, two drunks at a time.

 I was hungry and you fed me, I was thirsty and you gave me a drink, I was naked and you clothed me,  I was drunk and you gave me a ride.

Uh, scratch that last part.

The carnival is appealing from a distance.  And if you do venture in, once you get home you might consider bathing in battery acid. 


  1. Anonymous says:

    Very funny. You're quite the wordsmith. Thanks to Jolea for ponting me in this direction.Floyd


  2. Anonymous says:

    Why do I always see the typo AFTER I click post? (POINTING!)


  3. Nan says:

    Hello, I found you from Blogfrog.Thank you for sharing nice blog.Please visit My Community.please come on in,join in discussions, start one of your own, make new friends share your experience. a great day.Nan


  4. Angel says:

    Hey Floyd, Thanks and glad you stopped by. Hi Nan, I'll try to make it over!


  5. Anonymous says:

    Jason is my hero!! Now I know who to call when I have a little too much….Suzanne


  6. Angel says:

    Hey Suzanne! Thanks for commenting.


  7. Anonymous says:

    haha very nice description. I will have to read it to my poor boys, whom my husband will NOT allow to go to a carnival. They say "Why daddy why?" And he says, "cause it is nasty and germy and you will never go." The boys whisper in the backseat, "I think he is afraid of clowns" hahaAmber New (Farris)


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