A carnival of cryptomnesia

Walking around the familiar sounds of the screams and hoots and hollers was as exhilarating as ever—until darkness came.

The heat did not help matters either, as when dusk approached and the sun set behind the landscape, it was nearing time to leave this state of suspended animation. Why, I wonder, do I return here every year? Return to the lukewarm beer, bad and stinky cheese curds and half-cooked brats?

Well. Tradition, for one…been coming here since I was a young kid. Just seems familiar and routine—no surprises to expect or have to deal with.. The forgotten rememberances seem easy enough to handle, easy enough to go through, easy enough to work out of my head when the real bad ones come to mind.

You see. I actually hate amusement parks, so a common sense question would ask: ‘Why do I come back for ‘more.’ Again and again and again and again. As I am walking about the familiar sounds of the ferris wheel whizzing round and round, and the tilt-a- whirl spinning faster than ever before, I look down and realize I dropped my half-cooked bratwurst. Still hanging on to the beer and take a big hearty gulp, and as I do, look back up from the ground, I am starting to feel dizzy.

”It’s just the heat.” I tell myself, finish the brew and proceed to tilt my head left and back to a sound I did not recognize.

Whack-a-mole. This time though, a darn scary occurrence as my mind’s eye or I should say my mind’s ears heard the sounds of living, screeching, writhing moles. Like real ones being whacked and crying out in real-life pain. Sweat was pouring down my forehead, and I blinked furiously to see if the moles being whacked were o.k.

I staggered in their direction with the intent of grabbing the hammer out of the stupid carnival-goer- guy’s hand. Stupid guy for whacking an innocent mole. I tripped over a rock in the concrete, balanced myself and clumsily moved in the direction of the screeching moles. I had to save them from their torture. The time seemed endless and like I was moving in slow motion to help my furry friends. How cruel this carnival-goer-guy was to play a horrible game like this one. I looked up to the sky and now noticed it was dark and there were very few people left in the park.

As I approached the mole game, I grabbed the club outta the carnival-goer-guy’s hand and screamed, “Stop it! Stop it!” He was a guy twice my size and just pushed me to the ground. I leapt back up and lunged at him and his friend came in between us to hold us apart. The carnival security guy ran up to us and ordered us out of the carnival as he said the carnival park had closed thirty minutes prior. He warned me and the whack-a-mole guy to leave at once or we would be arrested for trespassing.

I handed the security guard the club, the guy twice my size just gleaned at me and said, “Weirdo.” As he and his friend clambered off into the sunset. I felt a familiar sense of relief and calm, until the pit in my stomach directed me to the port-o-potty down the alley.

Sometimes, I learn the hard way. I decided not to leave the premises.I ducked into the mirrored fun house and decided to figure out why I heard screams coming from plastic toys. You see, when I finally came to after my scuffle with the big guy, after he pushed me down, the screams remained in my head, but while flat on my keester, shaking the sweat from my eyes, I looked up and saw the cute little moles, were just cute little plastic toys with fake fur on their heads.

What had just happened? Why did I take on a guy twice my size for playing a game?

As I tip-toed through the mirrored funhouse, I got some answers, although I am not sure they answered anything. My stomach felt queasy, my mind full of a benign fear, the kind of fear that always sticks around and never really goes away.

’Maybe it’s the heat.” I murmured to my self again.

I heard some voices walk past the mirrored fun-house and I just froze. Why was I hiding in there after hours? Why was I continuing to trespass after the carnival security guy suggested that I don’t stay. I want some answers, I thought, and if this is what it takes to finally get some decent ones, this is what I have to do.

The mind is a funny thing.

What bothered me about the whack-a-mole screams was that I had heard them before….. Usually, I would run hell-bent in the other direction though, away from them and this time I was running toward them.

Why?

Because in the bounced-off sounds of screams and hoots and hollers, the sound vacuum of the carnival was too much for me to bear. Did I mention that I, as an adult, actually cried on Space Mountain.You know the roller coaster of ‘fun’ that whirls you around like a rag doll and causes the gut to try and center a body that is out of control. A body unaware of its place in space, place or time.

So, why hop on a bunch of sodded together metal that hooks ya into thinking it will be fun. I dunno. For ‘fun.’

Peer pressure?

Nope.

My mind was directing me in this moment of whack-a-mole rescue was to do just last. Rescue them.

While walking past the innocent little (fake) moles, I decided, rescue is the name of the game. Articulation, verbal anyway, gives way to expressive language and all words leave the mind and mouth in a haze of either vomit or day-to-day confusion of right and wrong.

Take action.

Stop hoping and wishing and wishing and hoping and pretending anyone will agree with the scream’s origin and why cruelty exists in the first place. As I tip-toed through the maze, darkness caused the lights in the fun-house to be even brighter. I came across a distorted mirrored reflection of myself. While I pulled faces and contorted my smile in ways of person ness and understanding, I came to the conclusion that I am ok just the way I am.

I smiled back at the contorted image looking back at me and moved my face closer to the reflection, smiled a smile of confidence and knowingness. Shrugged my shoulders and sighed a sigh of relief. Self-doubt is a knee-cap strategy used by the experts in doubting.

Takeaway: Don’t let anyone change your mind, make ‘em work for it.

I’m ok. You’re ok.