The summer of 1980 seemed to hold nothing but promise for this young man. Just one year out of high school it was an easy decision for me to take a year off before going to college. Heck, I was young enough to enjoy myself and wanted to travel and see the country while I had the opportunity. The year before, just out of high school, I had taken a job as a carnival worker or carnie as they are known. It gave me the chance to schlep across country and get paid in the process. Being a carnie can be grueling at times. You sleep in pop up trailers and drink and party like rock stars without the benefit of groupies. Hanging out with the carnies gave me second thoughts about ever letting my kids go on amusement park rides, but they were a fun bunch of guys and I enjoyed their company. I did the carnie thing for five months, making my way from the East Coast to the West in the process.

After returning to New Jersey from my left coast finale, I moved into a trailer I shared with a buddy from high school. It was tight, but there was just enough room for my guitar, my blues records, and me. I bought an old BSA Gold Star 650 motorcycle and spent the beginning of 1980 traveling up and down the East Coast on the bike. You could always tell where I had last parked it by the oil stains on the pavement, but it ran well and more importantly, it looked damn cool. By summer I had settled back in New Jersey, looking forward to getting in as much time as possible on the Jersey shore before going off to school in the fall.

By August I hate to have to say I was getting tired of drinking and casual sex, but living like it was my last summer on earth was starting to catch up with me. I would have to get into study mode next month and I started to ease down on my partying at the shore. I made plans to go to the Flemington Fair in Flemington New Jersey in late August. This would give me a day of relative relaxation and a chance to catch up with my old carnie buddies from the summer before. It was something I really looked forward to.

It was a warm Friday morning the day I set off to the fair. It was already close to 80 degrees by eleven or so when I got on my BSA and started off. The sun beating down on my bare arms felt so good. I started to think how I was going to miss these road trips on the bike once I started college. I was certain I would have little time for much other than studying. After about an hour on the road I got onto Route 202 with its rolling hills. As I opened the throttle on the long downhill stretches, the breeze caused the sleeves and back of my T-shirt to flap wildly in the wind. It felt so good, as the temperature had passed the 80 mark by now and the rushing wind was a welcome relief. The roar of the pipes was the perfect soundtrack for what was to be my last major summertime excursion.

After arriving at the fair, I parked the bike and made my way through the main entrance. I planned on spending a couple hours with my carnie buddies and afterwards about an hour checking out some of the exhibits I recall being fond of. I immediately made my way towards the back where the pop-up trailers were parked. I knew at least some of the carnies would be hanging out there, probably drinking beer, while the rest operated the rides. I knocked on the trailer door and was immediately greeted by an old co-worker, Jose.

“Hey Amigo, long time no see,” Jose said. “Come on in, bro.”

I was treated like a long lost brother returning home from war. We sat and talked. The beer flowed freely and the time passed quickly. People came and went as they went to relieve the guys working the rides. Before I knew it almost four hours had passed. After a lot of hugging and good-byes I left the trailer. I knew it would probably be the last time that I saw most of those guys.

I wandered onto the main drag and slowly made my way towards the booths with their various games. I stopped at an Italian ice stand and bought myself an Italian ice to refresh myself from the heat. As I was paying for my ice, I heard a voice.

“Hey, I got the same shirt,” a lovely female voice said.

I turned and saw a beautiful girl, about twenty years old, with long black hair and big brown eyes. She was wearing a pink T-shirt and faded jeans. It was clear that the only thing covering her perky nipples was the T-shirt. She had pink fingernail polish with silver glitter and a silver necklace. Other than that she wore no jewelry or makeup except bright red lipstick. Her slender body and small breasts made her appear younger than her twenty years. She had a youthful vigor and a quick, sly smile that could melt even the hardest heart.

“I just bought the same shirt as you.” She pulled a T-shirt out of a plastic bag. It had the logo of the rock group ‘The Who’ on it.

“Oh cool, you a Who fan too?” I asked.

“Yes.”

We began conversing and found out we had similar musical tastes.