When it comes to fairgrounds, I was lucky enough to have an Auntie who worked for The Pleasure Beach when I was young. A visit to Blackpool was always made special if she happened to be working as cashier on The Grand National roller coaster. We would be able to stay on for a few rides without paying - always a bonus.
The traditional fairground would roll onto a local field and spend several days setting up before opening to the public. A night at the fair was always exciting. Boys in denim would spin the Waltzer carriages with the shout of "scream if you want to go faster."
There were always stalls offering prizes for success at games like 'hook a duck', rifle ranges or the strangest of all, 'throw a ping-pong ball into a bowl'. For some reason, I was particularly adept at that one and would walk home with the obligatory goldfish in a flimsy polythene bag with string handles. there would be a flurry of activity at home to secure a suitable receptacle, flowed by a trip to the pet shop to buy food, plant life and a proper fish bowl only to find the poor creature floating on top of the water a couple of days later.
Depending on which parent did the disposal, there was either a funeral, (usually with Mum) or a quick toilet flush, (with Dad). That's life I suppose.
The Big One
Up and up and up we go,
Buckled tightly in seats.
We reach the top and tip over,
There's a fabulous view of the beach.
We're taking a ride on The Big One.
Get set for a speedy drop.
Our stomachs are churning -
Our faces are burning.
Oh God - can you make this thing stop!
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