Culture Clash: Summer’s great, but we could do without carnivals, fairs

Perkins: This gloomy June weather is getting in the way of some of my favorite summer staples. Time’s a’wasting. I want to enjoy the beach, outdoor burger joints, my lousy tennis game and the list goes on. I love summer, but not everything that accompanies it. Circuses, fairs and those rickety makeshift parking lot carnivals are not for me. Are you a summertime kind of guy, Meo?

Meo: Oh yeah. I’m generally against the trappings of summer ... giant shorts, flip-flops, sandals ... But I’ll take a nice coating of sweat and sand over goosebumps and layers of cotton and leather any day. I even have a riding mower, so summer chores are almost fun. I just can’t seem to shake my cadaverous skin tone. I go from a morgue-like, boiled chicken color to roasted tomato in a heartbeat. Not cool.

Perkins: Sandals, the smell of sunscreen, barbecues, hammocks and lemonade are all great. When I was a kid, my friends and I would beg our moms to bring us to the local carnival that popped up in town in the middle of the summer. My mom would always fight me on it. It was a waste of money, the food was greasy, the rides weren’t safe and the employees looked like the pirates of the Caribbean. I always walked away with extra tickets, a seahorse full of colored sand and a stomach ache. Carnivals, fairs and circus entertainment dominate Eastern Connecticut June through September. I’m vowing to stay away from the hoopla this year.

Meo: I don’t need a vow. Avoiding carnivals is like breathing for me. I know those things are supposed to be fun, but even from the outside, they look — what’s the word? — infectious. I don’t find the food appealing, just expensive, and the rides ... I know I’ll die someday, despite my preference to the contrary. I’d rather have a standard obituary, instead of a brief in the bizarre news section of CNN that starts with “John Meo of blah blah blah was killed in a tragic Tilt-A-Whirl accident. John landed headfirst in a nearby cotton candy maker.” Not exactly the stuff of legend. Plus, carnies handling my Earthly remains is just weird.

Perkins: It shouldn’t be too hard to stay away as long as my sister doesn’t try to suck me in or the smell of fried dough doesn’t call my name during a drive by — who can resist fried dough? (Ed.’s note: John can). Clowns and balloons are probably two of the most frightening components of these tented spectacles, not to mention the stench of manure and hay. Plus, who pays $5 to see the World’s Funniest Mule?

Meo: Depends what jokes the mule is telling. Is it observational comedy? Is the mule a prop comic? I don’t do prop comedy. Ventriloquism is OK in small doses. The thing about fried dough is, it’s repulsive, no matter how much powdered sugar you heap upon it. Clowns are abominations, and should be outlawed. Clowns and politicians. I don’t have anything against balloons, but balloon animals ...

Perkins: Monkeys are funny. Mules, not so much. Elephants in bedazzled vests are hardly entertaining. And what is with those games that are nearly impossible to win? Throwing a ring around the neck of a milk bottle shouldn’t be that hard. And if all you’re going to give me when I win is a giant, stuffed Pokemon, I’ll pass. I sense fanmail coming my way.

Meo: Nah. You’d get fan mail if you suggested poking elephants with shock rods was fun. Which you didn’t. Or firing tiger cubs out of cannons into vats of babies. Possible fan mail for that. Or maybe vice versa. Babies out of cannons into vats of tigers. The games are pretty stupid though. Toss this football-size football through this baseball-size hole. One try for $2! Oh, so close sir! Care to try again? For the plastic, possibly lead-filled, definitely spontaneously combustible purple Teddy bear of questionable origin? You bet!

Perkins: Yes, I guess I could be clear. I do not support elephant poking or feeding babies to tigers or funny donkeys or rigged games. Carnivals and fairs are not for me. The sun better come out soon so I can take up water sports and daycations, while sporting my madras shorts and flippy-floppies.

Emily Perkins is the editorial assistant at the Norwich Bulletin. Yes, globophobia is a real affliction. Google it. John Meo is design editor at the Norwich Bulletin. He has no idea what “madras” means, but is pretty sure he doesn’t own one.