If only my kids could have seen me.Along about 1978 or so, sitting on a perch at a dunk tank at the Hughesville Volunteer Fire Department carnival and trying to goad carnival goers into paying 50 cents for 3 balls to hit the bullseye and knock me into the water.
The fireman's carnival I attended last night in Lower Milford Township, PA, did not have a dunk tank. But my kids would have loved it anyway.
Fireman's carnivals in this part of the world have not changed much. The pace is still slow, the scale is small, the games of chance remain simple and uncomplicated. The fire departments still need money, are often short of volunteers, and have the ladies' auxiliary who offer hot sausage sandwiches, filling and gravy, and birch beer.
And also have rides that look like they haven't been inspected in 10 years. At least.
That little detail regarding the rides would not have bothered Jack in the least; he has spent this week at rock climbing camp, showing no fear.
And climbing higher than his dad could ever imagine for an 8-year-old who is growing up quickly.
Things are moving faster and faster -- too fast -- and I'm reminded how time is fleeting and the ever-growing distance between that dunk tank and last night's carnival.
Slow down.
No comments:
Post a Comment