Whoopsy Bear page 2

From Design House Digital: Karen Funk Sweet Spring Digital Mini Kit. tfl!


We went to the Ostrich Festival again this year, remembering how much Isabel liked it last time, but it was sort of a bust. It was in the upper 80’s and people were sardined thickly into the dust-filled and grease-redolent air. Several of the cheap carnie rides boasted “Straight from Michael Jackson’s Neverland Ranch!” or “This ride ridden by Michael Jackson and thousands of other children!” It was clear that somebody thought this would be a HUGE draw, somebody who possibly paid a lot for this ride at the Neverland auction and hoped that this claim would entice and intrigue fair-goers. It’s kind of sick if you think about the irony: MJ used his Neverland Ranch to attract kids and to make parents bring kids to him; the fair was using the Neverland Ranch Ride to attract kids and entice parents into bringing their children aboard. And while Isabel and Amado rode it and I saw her thin arm gripping the side of the basket in tight alarm, and saw her worried wide eyes peering out in mute unhappiness, all I could think to myself was: This is a pretty crappy, cheap sad ride to be there at the famed Neverland Ranch, a place reputed to have a fantasy-land to rival Disney. I supposed I expected MJ to have hand-carved baskets painted by master artists with breathtaking detail, and for the ride to be so sturdy and well-made that one could nod in satisfaction: Now THAT’S a ride. But why would I assume that just because he was rich and promised kids the world, his rides would be fantastic? Here was a man who supposedly loved kids more than anything and ended up accused of molesting them in gross ways; the fantasy was only a thin veneer covering a layer of crap -- just the way this ride was, beneath the exotic claim to be from Neverland, just a run-of-the-mill, cheaply constructed carnie ride. And of course, like at all fairs, people were going on the rides or not going on the rides based on whatever subliminal or entirely conscious desires and suggestions power their minds, and nobody seemed to be interested (or even reading) the multitude of MJ signs, and nobody but me seemed remotely interested in photographing one of them. And Isabel was super-tired and overwhelmed by the excess of movement and color and sound, and she refused to go on more rides. BUT -- she loved and cherished the green Oopsy Care Bear that we “won” for her in the same fashion that we “won” last year’s Sponge Bob - by paying more money for more darts to pop more balloons until we had reached some magical number that equalled CARE BEAR. That number was $35 dollars. But it was worth it to see the joy on her face in the midst of the hollering rednecks and pushing rude folks and the MJ rides and the dust and the pathetic ostrich races and the greasy food. I think I hate fairs, especially ones that have animal attractions. Honestly, I could be happy never going to one again, I think, unless it’s to make Isa smile with a Care Bear, or maybe to join the small group of protestors we saw leaving as we came up the the packed entrance. Fun times for al!