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"The Wondering Jew"

2001-01-11 - 20:41 MST

January 11,2001

Fun ?

Fourth of July, (?) 1929 (?) I was at my cousin's house, which wasn't too far from Lakeside Amusement Park. It was already hot early, we had already eaten breakfast and eager to shoot off fireworks we went outside to have the usual fun of the Fourth. We started on the firecrackers in the yard of cousin's house. That didn't last long before we were shut down, much groaning and whining ensued.

The big folks came up with money for us to get into Lakeside and go on a few rides. We were given the choice of spending it on carefare to downtown and back out by another route or the option we chose. So, barefooted with our pockets full of firecrackers and a lit punk stick each we started walking to Lakeside Amusement Park. At that time there weren't sidewalks, just dirt paths at the side of the street. We were lucky, no muddy paths were encountered. We weren't concerned with the time and were walking along making our individual happiness by shooting off firecrackers as we went. Soon, it became a game of risk and dare. A contest to see who could hold a lit firecracker the longest before throwing it.

I won and lost simultaneously. I stumbled a bit after lighting a firecracker and BANG it went off in my hand. Enter a long spate of crying, moaning and using my limited profane language over and over I gained enough sense to ascertain if we should run home for help or keep on to the Park. I never did figure out how the fingers of my hand could be so numb and hurt so bad at the same time.

It took the fun out of firecrackers for me that day, I gave mine to my cousin as I trudged along feeling sorry for myself and hurting. We finally got to the Park and paid our way in distracting employees by talking and asking a lot of questions so that we could enter barefoot the magic world of Ferris Wheel, Roller Coaster, tinkly music, smell of popcorn, the Fun House and more.

I managed to go on the rides where I wouldn't have to use that hand to hold on and rode the train around the lake, the Ferris Wheel and things like that, all the time cursing myself for being so clumsy with the banger and hurting still. I somehow managed to spend money at the same rate as my cousin, me being jealous of him for the fun he was having. From trying to test and delicately use my hand I knew I couldn't do all the things I loved in the Park which got my nanny. Managed to have some fun in the Fun House, I did the slides, rode the Lemon Squeezer, walked the barrel forwards, backwards and sideways until that got old, then walked the Ocean Waves until bored. Occasionally I would go over and look at the floor below and watched my very favorite thing in the Fun House, The Roulette Wheel. It was a wooden sloped platform which spun at the rate controlled by the operator who would gradually increase the speed until only one or two kids were left on it, from the edge of the disk the thing became cup shaped more or less made of that same polished, smooth wood. A body spun off the wheel would slide to the edge slowly losing speed. I watched the spin of the Roulette Wheel and gritted my teeth as I knew if I tried, that being spun off first would be the easiest part of the whole thing, the worst would be the bodies crashing into me as people were spun off. To get a decent ride on it required speed to get good position and having rubber soled feet using hands of glue. Barefooted and one handed, that game was not mine that day. I doodled around in there until my cousin was ready for new vistas. After going on some more rides we bought pop and popcorn and sat on a bench in the shade. We were broke and finally rested we turned simultaneously and headed for the restroom and then home.

I think the walk home was even more leisurely than the one to Lakeside. The hurt had dulled down to a steady torture, more or less, and my mind was no longer completly occupied with pain. You know I can remember on that long walk home my cousin and I became closer to each other than ever before, but I cannot remember the things we talked about.

We got home in time to clean up and eat a wonderful dinner made by aunt. Outside afterwards nursing our stone bruises and scrapes from our barefoot trek there was plentiful iced tea and lemonade. Cousin and I had no more fireworks left, we sat and listened to the celebratory explosions, grading them on our own intensity scale factored with the closeness of same.

It got dark enough for us to use sparklers, we ran with them making wild erratic motions with them going to the front yard, standing in a row, doing our happy thing.

Dad and Uncle made cousin and I stay out in the front part of the yard and set up their pyrotechnics in the back yard. We watched the skyrockets and roman candles going off in the neighborhood until roman candles were given us. It made me feel in control and powerful until the thing ran out of gas, dead in my hands. Then Dad and Uncle started the skyrockets going, what a display that was. Uncle had built guiding chutes to aim the rockets away from us and at a favorable trajectory for us to have a good sight and avoid setting the neighbors houses on fire.

Finally all the fireworks there, were expended and we sat around in the dark, Dad's cigarette end glowing when he would draw on it and the conversation between the grownups would slowly move around the circle. I remember getting sleepy in spite of the sound of fire crackers still in noisy barrage. I was invited to spend the night there and mom and Dad left for home. Up in cousins bedroom which overlooked the downslope towards Sloan's Lake and downtown we watched out the window sneakily on the quiet until there was no more for us to see other than the twinkle of the city lights. That was old stuff for us after the day of magic. We lay down and talked, finally dropping off peacefully to sleep.

Those were the fabled days of yore for me, the bad spots covered with verdigris to a beautiful green and making a good background for the Fun ? . . . . . . .

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