The Moment

The toys I win at carnivals I want to keep. I can give them to my kids, and each doll would have its own story. I think it would mean more to them that way. This (to me anyways) would appear to be the only value these stuffed animals hold, but if I was to be perfectly honest, I like playing carnival games because they're challenging and fun.

You know the odds are stacked against you (the ball is overinflated and the rim is oval) and everyone’s just trying to steal your money, but that’s all part of the fun. You want to see if you can win when you’re the underdog, because innately everyone loves underdog stories. They’re inspirational, and the idea that the human spirit can overcome whatever adversity lies ahead is something of a rarity. For proof, just see how many people start watching on the sidelines when someone actually decides to step up to a three-point challenge.

As such, for those willing enough to risk looking a bit stupid for donating a small amount of money (or get sponsored for it), it’s an easy low-risk trade off to seeing if, as one would say, “ya still got it.” Luckily I have 3 shots. I miss the first two. I hit the last one. You’re as surprised as everyone else and you think…yeah that was lucky. But you did it. And here’s a goofy looking spotted purple cow for your troubles. But look at how happy everyone seems to be. Everyone is smiling; laughing…you can feel the energy everywhere. And in that microcosm of a moment you experience — gratitude. You understand what it all means…what it’s all for...and it applies to all of existence.

Then just as quickly as it manifests, it’s gone. You look at that goofy prize you just won and think how cumbersome it’s going to be carrying it around all night, but some kid in the future is going to really appreciate it. Either that or the dog will.