trust.
The music is so merry,
The dayâs so deadly long.
Some people spending plenty
Some think the price is wrong.
When the business is booming,
And the people wait in line
Then the workerâs heart is happy,
And heâs feeling mighty fine.
Yes, thereâs magic on the midway,
Making dollars in the dust.
Itâs a wonder world to work in
As in our God we trust.
----Old Poem, origins unknown, often found displayed in the cookhouse on the lot during the 1980s and 90s. The phrase âIâm with it, Iâm for itâ, essentially means that a particular person works on a carnival and enjoys the life.
T he next morning was a spectacular meteorological combination of blue skies and puffy white clouds, the kind carnies dream about. The sun was shining hot on the steel frames of the rides as they stood upon this vacant Valley lot with a touch of majesty. Today, money will be made and with that in mind the engines and air compressors and electric motors and drive cable chains and wheels and hydraulics all came to life.
Spinning and bleeding hydraulic fluid, the grand old man of the carnival, The Ferris Wheel, awoke with everyone on the lot. The Gravitron made its test cycles, spinning nineteen rpms counter-clockwise, ready to jolt fresh flesh against the bones of its riders. The Zipper flipped and puffed and rotated its cages in every direction like a robotic dragon. Kiddie Land spit to life with fibreglass horses running laps, big stupid bears spinning in unison, metallic fleck-painted cars beginning their never-ending chase scene, and a giant alligator circling a mini-rollercoaster track. The Tilt-A-Whirl gyrated along its familiar rhythms, the Scrambler scrambled like a three-pronged eggbeater. The Star Trooper lifted and spun, stopped and reversed in orbit as the music pounded out of the speakers.
Larry, Amberâs duet partner, was operating the Star Trooper with his counterpart, Booker T. The two of them have a well-documented habit of blaring Bob Seger through the large speakers on the ride to start each morning. The Trooper has the loudest speakers on the midway and whatever they put on, everybody hears. The rest of the workers have grown tired of the songs but Larry and Booker still play them, for their own musical enjoyment. Larry is a little sore this morning and the music isnât doing it for him, not even âTurn the Pageâ. He was part of the reason Jack Adams had the crowbar last night, which it turns out is called a pin bar, used to pull the pins that hold the rides together. After his stirring rendition of âPictureâ on the karaoke stage, Larry staggered home and got into a fight with another worker. It was a strange altercation and nobody on the lot seemed to know why or how it started, but Larryâs nursing bite marks on the skin around his kidney this morning. Robert â the carnival bunk attendant and one of the ride supervisors â has lost his glasses with nothing to replace them but a large gash over his right eye.
Robert is a big, solid man who easily outweighs Larry. If they were offering odds, Robert would be up five to one at first glance. Neither of them were talking about the incident, but the story going around the lot has Robert piercing Larry with his teeth and Larry defending himself with the pin bar. The kidney is a valuable organ to the average carny, filtering substantial waste on a daily basis, so itâs understandable Larry would protect it with any means available. The lack of proper nutrition on the lot has serious implications for a number of workers who are fighting various health concerns.
Coffee and cigarettes are the lifeblood of the carny vascular system. Their blood, on a purely physical level, is thick and stuffed full of carcinogens and caffeine. Tar, nicotine, formaldehyde, hydrogen cyanide and various other alkaloids are pouring through their veins, administered in the form of a short stick every few minutes to
The music is so merry,
The dayâs so deadly long.
Some people spending plenty
Some think the price is wrong.
When the business is booming,
And the people wait in line
Then the workerâs heart is happy,
And heâs feeling mighty fine.
Yes, thereâs magic on the midway,
Making dollars in the dust.
Itâs a wonder world to work in
As in our God we trust.
----Old Poem, origins unknown, often found displayed in the cookhouse on the lot during the 1980s and 90s. The phrase âIâm with it, Iâm for itâ, essentially means that a particular person works on a carnival and enjoys the life.
T he next morning was a spectacular meteorological combination of blue skies and puffy white clouds, the kind carnies dream about. The sun was shining hot on the steel frames of the rides as they stood upon this vacant Valley lot with a touch of majesty. Today, money will be made and with that in mind the engines and air compressors and electric motors and drive cable chains and wheels and hydraulics all came to life.
Spinning and bleeding hydraulic fluid, the grand old man of the carnival, The Ferris Wheel, awoke with everyone on the lot. The Gravitron made its test cycles, spinning nineteen rpms counter-clockwise, ready to jolt fresh flesh against the bones of its riders. The Zipper flipped and puffed and rotated its cages in every direction like a robotic dragon. Kiddie Land spit to life with fibreglass horses running laps, big stupid bears spinning in unison, metallic fleck-painted cars beginning their never-ending chase scene, and a giant alligator circling a mini-rollercoaster track. The Tilt-A-Whirl gyrated along its familiar rhythms, the Scrambler scrambled like a three-pronged eggbeater. The Star Trooper lifted and spun, stopped and reversed in orbit as the music pounded out of the speakers.
Larry, Amberâs duet partner, was operating the Star Trooper with his counterpart, Booker T. The two of them have a well-documented habit of blaring Bob Seger through the large speakers on the ride to start each morning. The Trooper has the loudest speakers on the midway and whatever they put on, everybody hears. The rest of the workers have grown tired of the songs but Larry and Booker still play them, for their own musical enjoyment. Larry is a little sore this morning and the music isnât doing it for him, not even âTurn the Pageâ. He was part of the reason Jack Adams had the crowbar last night, which it turns out is called a pin bar, used to pull the pins that hold the rides together. After his stirring rendition of âPictureâ on the karaoke stage, Larry staggered home and got into a fight with another worker. It was a strange altercation and nobody on the lot seemed to know why or how it started, but Larryâs nursing bite marks on the skin around his kidney this morning. Robert â the carnival bunk attendant and one of the ride supervisors â has lost his glasses with nothing to replace them but a large gash over his right eye.
Robert is a big, solid man who easily outweighs Larry. If they were offering odds, Robert would be up five to one at first glance. Neither of them were talking about the incident, but the story going around the lot has Robert piercing Larry with his teeth and Larry defending himself with the pin bar. The kidney is a valuable organ to the average carny, filtering substantial waste on a daily basis, so itâs understandable Larry would protect it with any means available. The lack of proper nutrition on the lot has serious implications for a number of workers who are fighting various health concerns.
Coffee and cigarettes are the lifeblood of the carny vascular system. Their blood, on a purely physical level, is thick and stuffed full of carcinogens and caffeine. Tar, nicotine, formaldehyde, hydrogen cyanide and various other alkaloids are pouring through their veins, administered in the form of a short stick every few minutes to
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