Thursday, June 06, 2013

2003 Optimists of Time

     I guess you can say I'm an optimist. At least I'm the sort who tries to put a positive spin on things most of the time. Or at least a mildly humorous one.
     My standard definition of an optimist is a Western Washington resident who plants tomatoes. Or a banana slug about to cross the freeway. You got to have those high hopes.
     So it is in Western Washington with outdoor festivals. We keep having them. And we keep getting rained out. Oh well. As I saw at the Lacey Spring Fun Fair not long ago, the rain didn't seem to dampen anyone's spirits. Except for the kids holding cotton candy.
     Another definition of an optimist, thinking fair food won't stick. Like a deep-fried stick of butter isn't destined for your tummy or haunches. The willfully delusional notion that all the walking around you do at the fair somehow counteracts the massive calories you're cramming in.
     Speaking of fair food, what's with cotton candy in a bag? Remember when we used to have it spun around a paper cone? So you could dip your wetted lips right into it and take a bite. Sometimes you'd catch a few pink strands in your hair. That was funny-looking. That was before people actually dyed their hair cotton candy pink on purpose.
     Maybe Goths were affected oddly by carnivals as kids.
     I know I was. Carnivals always seemed like places where accidents could happen. Large complicated pieces of badly painted machinery, smelling of diesel and grease, and madly spinning at high speeds. Assembled by scary looking people. Just one loose nut away from exploding in a rain of shrapnel and screaming former riders hurtling in centrifugal directions.
     There's the ultimate definition of an optimist---someone who gets on a carnival ride.
     America, ya gotta love it.

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