Spring is here, although you certainly wouldn't know it by the cold weather we've been having here in southern Ontario. Frost in mid-May? Whose bright idea was that?
Anyway, spring brings carnivals, and I saw the first one of the season setting up in Toronto last week. You've no doubt seen them: cheesy little things that take over part of a mall parking lot, with some rides and games. They always bring a little pang of regret for me.
It was back about 1980, when I was driving a taxi in Toronto. I got a fare one day who was going to one of these carnivals. It turned out he was the owner, and he offered me a job. I wouldn't be a carny; rather, he needed someone who could work in the office, managing the books and the payroll. The carnival travelled through the southern states in the winter, and the northern states and Canada in the summer. I gave it some thought, but I had a lease on my apartment and a well-loved pet, and I couldn't bring myself to give that up and go out on the road.
Now, I know I did the right thing. I know that "seeing the world" would have meant I'd have known three blocks around whatever low-rent parking lot we were playing. I know life in these migrant circles isn't easy, and it brings a whole new set of problems. Believe me, I'm not lying -- I know I did the right thing.
And yet, whenever I see the Ferris wheel go up, I get that little pang. Because every one of us, deep down, wants to run away and join the circus. And I actually could have done it, and I didn't. Funny thing, life is. You can do what you know you should have done, and still be a little sorry that you did.