Carnies and Urban Outdoorsmen

I don't like carnies. I don't like carnies for the same reasons I don't like clowns. The reasons are two-fold. First, I just have a natural distrust of them, almost inexplicable. Secondly, that natural distrust was partnered in early childhood experiences with a real-life encounter that reaffirmed my natural distrust. For clowns, it was a combination of my dad about getting into a fight with Ronald McDonald because he kept wanting to steal dad's cowboy hat (justifiable), along with watching Stephen King's IT when I was about five. For carnies, it was the time at the Texas County fair that I lost my ball cap on a carnival ride and the carnie wouldn't give it back.

The county fair is going on right now, and let me say that it is pretty impressive for such a small place. I'm having to spend a lot of time there, and I've noticed a few things about carnies. First, their lot in life seems to have changed since I last ran into them. There was a kid that went to my college named Brad. Brad was also known as "O.G." standing for "original gangsta" because Brad was a skinny white kid of about 5'6 that spoke like he was black and listened to gangsta rap. Brad, who wore a wife-beater every single day, always reminded me of a carnie. And sure enough, he disappeared around spring break one year and didn't come back for about three weeks. He had ran off and joined a traveling carnival crew down in Florida. I guess what I mean by that is that carnies are typically a special "type."

But, I've been watching the carnies this week. They have a great life. Many of them travel in 100 thousand dollar trailers, probably better than the average house in my area. I saw one interesting trailer, which was about one-third longer than the biggest RV I've ever seen, with individual unit compartments every six feet or so - to house whatever street ruffian's or teenage kids running away from something or kids like Brad just wanting some adventure that join the traveling fair.

These carnies probably make a living that most of us can only dream of. They collect thousands of dollars on a given night and in exchange give away inflatable baseball bats and stuffed animals assembled in China for .20 cents. They read palms and make toe rings, give temporary tattoos and sell knock-off sunglasses. They get to see small town America at its finest and get to eat all of the cotton candy and funnel cakes they can stand. After this week, I don't think I'll ever feel sorry for carnies again. They're modern day gypsies, contemporary nomads, and the last of a very free, dying breed.

All of which, reminds me of a story I read yesterday about "urban outdoorsmen." The story is about Tom Sepa, who lives in the woods outside of San Francisco. Sepa isn't the typical homeless guy. He has a full-time job, cell-phone, and paypal account. He works out of a cyber cafe, uses his cellphone to telemarket, and is paid from his employer via paypal. He makes three thousand dollars a month. He has a post-office box where he still gets his mail and his netflix movies. He doesn't want to live in one of San Francisco's many free "residential apartments" because he says "I'm not a crack-head or drunk."

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His wife left him not long ago, which left him financially strapped. According to Sepa, even a cheap motel would cost him two-thirds of his income, and along with food it wouldn't leave him any means to save money to escape from his predicament. So Sepa lives way out in the national forrest - where he says it's safe some vagrants and other never-do-wells. He rides into town, works hard, and goes back to the woods in the evening. And he's never slept better. After doing this for a few months, Sepa has saved up three thousand dollars in the bank and hopes to accumulate ten thousand before it gets cold. That way he can afford to better himself debt-free - that is, if he wants to move out of the woods.

Is Sepa a bum? What about carnies? Absolutely not. Both work hard for a living, contribute to the economy, and theoretically take their trash with them when they leave. They just have a different life from you and me. I can definitely see the advantages of Sepa's way of life in particular.

Could you imagine having no mortgage or rent payment? Could you imagine not giving a care what gas prices were because you don't even own a car? Could you imagine not worrying about getting home in time to mow the grass before it gets dark, or worry about property taxes or semi-annual insurances coming around? It kind of reminds me of Jesus sending out the disciples with only one coat, no "script" or money for their journey, and making them be reliant on minimalism and hospitality. Tough times make people into survivalists, but one can be a minimalist even in the best of times - and perhaps they'll be better off for it. In the end, I'll choose my life all over again. But on the other hand, even carnies and urban outdoorsmen have it pretty good.