The International Brotherhood of Carousel Spinners

On Saturday's Simon's-Mall-Carousel-Extravaganza, Madeleine and Daniel chose horses, but Ian, as is his wont, got into one of those horrendous spinning tea-cup-type gizmos, along with two total strangers (or not, as we shall see). So the rest of us were risking only mild vertigo (and I'm not kidding - call me "Middle-Aged Man," but I was a bit dizzy after just standing next to Daniel and Madeleine as they rode their horses). But Ian was blissfully careening down the Vertiginous Highway, madly turning the evil steel turning-wheel at the center of his spinning vessel, along with his chosen partners in crime, to make the thing whirl even more furiously than it would on its own. When he got off the merry-go-round, Ian announced that he was dizzy. I expressed proper parental concern, but this was unwarranted: it turned out that he was boasting.

But I hadn't really thought about the deep social ramifications of his having sat between two other boys on this mad journey to nowhere. Later in the day, he reflected on the ride on the carousel - which, for whatever reason, he mis-identified as a ferris wheel, although I'm sure it's not the worst metaphor, and only then did I realize that carousel-teacup-friends are friends for life:

"Daddy, guess what: just by going on the ferris wheel, I made two friends!"

(March 26, 2011)