Tuesday, April 17, 2012

PONIES, SPIES, AND MEATLOAF

Things got a little more confusing in Kiddeland since we now had not one, but two "Helens". As the summer wore on, and we got to know more of the summer staff, the more unusual they seemed to be. "Lubby" was in charge of the Kiddeland rest rooms, but her job description must have been extremely vague. Lubby was what my Mother would call an "Immense" woman. She sat on a lawn chair in front of the rest room. We never saw her move...all summer. She was pleasant enough, but far from busy. Marie was in charge of the hot dog trailer along with an unpleasant young girl who didn't seem to realize how lucky she was to be working with Marie instead of with Helen and Helen and Maggie and me in our own private Bedlam. Marie had some sort of a nervous condition that caused her to make her fingers "walk" across the counter while she was asking what you wanted on your hot dog. Any conversation other than queries about mustard and relish would cause her hand to go into high gear, and sometimes we'd see her hand start up the side of the trailer.

The ponies were directly across from us...downwind fortunately...and overseen by a rather elderly man. To say he was unusual would of course be stating the obvious after a few of these tales. EVERYONE was unusual in those days at West View Park. One hot afternoon while the four of us were sitting in the dark with the shutters down for an unexpected break, Maggie announced that she'd befriended the pony man, and felt sorry for him especially on these hot days. She said that while there was plenty of water for the animals, he didn't seem to have access to any. We had a hose behind our trailer which she had generously offered to him "any time the poor soul needs a drink...I told him to feel free to go back there and use our hose". She said he was a kind old man, down on his luck, lifting little kids on and off of the ponies all day. This was all well and good until we arrived one day to find the whole back of the trailer flooded because the hose had been left on all night. " That damned old fool..." Maggie ranted and raved....shouting across the walk..."you stay away from this trailer or I'll report you." There were no second chances in Maggie's world.

The only thing the employees feared more than Labor Day was the presence of what they called a "spotter". That was basically a spy from the superintendent's office who would be incognito of course....but who would report any untoward activity by an employee. Everyone was constantly suspicious of all of the park goers. "be careful...I think that man (woman) is a spotter". "Lubby says there was a spotter near the men's room yesterday for sure". "Watch that man over near the tilt-a-whirl...I heard he was a spotter". My cousin and I quickly picked up the lingo and tortured our coworkers a lot...there was no quicker was to jump start the two of them.

I don't remember if we worked a nine hour day and made seven dollars, or if we worked a seven hour day and made nine dollars, but I think it was the former. We got more than enough money to fill my gas tank, and more than enough memories to last a lifetime. On our last day of that summer Maggie backed into my car alone because Helen rode the street car because they'd had a "falling out"...something about the nice dinner that Maggie had made for some friends and their mutual shock when Helen jumped across the table and took the meatloaf. Now some things even I can't just make up. My Helen remembers the very same story....you go ahead and ask him someday. So there.

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