Fairground

I love the fair and once again it has returned, perched on the heath of Campbell Park. The love affair started when I won a gold fish after throwing three consecutive baskets when I was twelve. The man who ran the stall scowled as he shoved the clear plastic bag full of water and a little orange fish into my hand. I took it with great pleasure and a sensation of satisfaction. Although subsequently the little fish died only four days later the enthusiastic feeling did not wane. Even when my friend’s wallet slipped out of his back pocket on the Helter Skelter and when we asked to check the seat the spotty teenage guy said we couldn’t whilst openly grinning at us. And then we tried to look anyway only to be confronted by the spotty teenager’s entourage of five burly skinheads looking for trouble, my excitement of the fair continued. Why? Well, because I love all the little games scattered amongst those rather thrilling yet shabby looking rides.

I really dig going up to one of those stalls where you have to toss ringlets over prizes they cannot actually fit around. My technique is to aim for something the ringlet must fit over but I still get thwarted. Once I aimed for a bottle of Grant’s Vodka and the ringlet went over the bottle but half of the ring still hung from the bottle top. Elated at the thought of winning, the owner shook his head and explained ‘his’ rules required the ringlet to completely go over the item and touch the ground. There was no point arguing so I just walked off. Another game I enjoy is firing the pellet gun at stack of cans. The objective is to knock over all the cans with eight pellets. Even though I have played this for years I still cannot win. My best is leaving only two cans left, but they are so hard to knock over, you literally have to hit the can in the bottom left or right corner to make it topple. Otherwise it just wobbles. And to add to its difficulty all you need to do is hover over the trigger and the pellet fires. There has been many a time I considered firing at the stall owner but he always seems to be standing well away from the gun’s reach for some reason.

As for rides, I’m not too keen on the absolute terrifying ones like Gravity, where there’s nothing stopping you from falling 40ft but gravity. Those machines just look too weathered for me to risk and take the plunge. I do not fancy being on the front cover of the local paper with a photo of me splattered on the ground and some quote from a local campaigner saying ‘there will be a full investigation’. The image is too clear in my mind to make me think it is plausible. The ride I really like is the ghost train, if the owner does it correctly. I truly brick it going through a route in a tatty little cart whilst various noises explode around and random textures rub against my face. One time there was even a ‘part-time’ actor who stayed in a coffin until the cart gradually came to a halt and he flew out shouting ‘rahhh’ while I just had a heart attack and screamed back. So impressed I was with that particular ride that I procured a water pistol and went back on the ride and drenched him the next time he sprung out.

Ahhhh, I do enjoy the fairground.



I am really pleased that Barack is now president-elect. I considered writing a piece but then thought the moment is best typified by this.

http://uk.youtube.com/watch?v=tM1XrVVVBAk