Joy Riding

Never too old for a carousel

I live in Carousel Land. That sounds like either a Fifties board game or a Broadway musical by Rodgers and Hammerstein. Actually it’s the legacy of industrial capitalist George F. Johnson who built our shoe manufacturing town.

Johnson grew up poor, and one stinging memory of childhood was when he was refused a ride on a carousel because he didn’t have money to pay for it. He vowed that the children of his shoe workers would never have to pay to ride one. And to ensure that would happen, he built six of them for the community within a ten-mile radius.

I made two vows to myself for this winter: ride a carousel during the Christmas season and go sledding. Tonight I crossed one off the list.

It’s been very cold here, January-like temps. That made it necessary to don several layers to be warm enough. My friend and I stopped at Byrne Dairy for hot cocoa beforehand to help brace ourselves.

When we arrived, the nearly full moon and its sidekick Jupiter shone brightly above the carousel, iced like a cake with Christmas lights. Santa and Mrs. Claus were just arriving and we exchanged greetings. The Mrs. acknowledged receiving my friend’s letter, but wouldn’t say if he was on Santa’s nice or naughty list.

A high school chorus was singing that “bum bum, bah bum bum” music from Elf as they opened the gate and let us in. That set the perfect mood for this polar-temp childlike impulse. (Half expected to see Mr. Narwhal inside.)

Once the horses began rising and falling, the carousel lights flicked off so the only glow came from the Christmas trees under the canopy. Ooh, beautiful! When the horses stopped, Santa posed with kids for photos before they left.

Afterwards, we drove up a nearby hill to gawk at light displays where the rich people live. They weren’t too remarkable, though there was some dramatic tree lighting that we liked. Around one corner however we encountered a cul de sac with a breathtaking Santa’s sleigh-like view of the lights on the other part of the valley. It almost felt like we were flying.

We headed for another neighborhood and hit the motherlode of lawn inflatables—at least 50 of them! We looked at each other and said in our adult voices, “Imagine their electric bill!”

It was a great evening of childlike fun. When I got home it felt like 10 p.m. because it was so dark. Nope, closer to 7:45. Ha!

Himself needed to go out one last time for the night. We wandered into the moonlit yard and I stared at the stars. Could have stayed home tonight and done laundry. Glad instead that we went outside to play.