Carnival's here!

Ann's been a good sport over the years, agreeing to go along with most of my wooly-headed schemes. Most of them. Only twice, in all these years, has she vetoed any of my remarkably creative ideas. One was the time I wanted to get a Gold Wing (or some other big motorcycle) and bike across the country so we could go to a church convention in Los Angeles; it seemed like a good idea to me, but my thinking was quickly clarified on that scheme.

The other was the time I wanted to get in our motorhome and go to work for a carnival, traveling with them and selling Funnel Cakes or running a Hoop Toss game around the USofA. Great way to see the country, I said, plus get to live a slice of life we'd otherwise never know. That seemed to me to be a pretty good idea, too, but it got the same crystal clear response: "Noooo, we aren't going to do that".

But don't let me give the wrong impression: that's only two vetos in over 50 years of being togther. Countless times she's gone along with what turned out to be some pretty off-the-wall ideas, always resisting the "I told you so" comment when the mountain highway turned into a narrow dirt trail or the frozen calamari became a rubbery inedible. I've certainly no complaints. On the contrary, I'm forever grateful to be with a wife/friend/partner who's enjoyed exploring the other side of the mountain as much as I do.

Yet when the carnival comes to town, as it did this week, I couldn't resist a visit. I slowly meandered through it as the guys were setting up the trailers and rides, took a few pictures, and played with the "what if?" question. I suspect we all have those "what if?" moments, times when we let the imagination go back to the Big Fork in the road: what if I'd gone to another college or stayed in school instead of signing up with the Marine Corps or taken that parish in Phoenix or whatever.

Again, don't get me wrong. I've led a charmed life and wouldn't want to change a thing, not a single thing. I have been profoundly and repeatedly blest, and I'm supremely happy.

Yet every now and then, especially when the carnival arrives in town, the thought occurs to me, as in some sense it occurs to us all, "What if?".