Schaghticoke Fair 1968

   We lived in the apartment in Schaghticoke that first year so we decided to walk to the Fair.  The walk was a little longer than I had expected, maybe because it was uphill, or could have been for another yet unknown reason. We were young enough then to have bought tickets for rides. We entered the first ride, the kind where you stand against the rail and the ride tilts and spins, or something like that. We were the first to get on, or nearly so, and the operator was not yet there.
   So we waited. Dave, ever confident, leaned back against the rail of the ride, in his king of the world stance. He was dressed then in jeans, which he hardly ever wore: he owned a single pair, left over from when he lived in California, and had gone  horseback riding on a friend's ranch. His black hair was long then, as was the 60's style. And he wore a pair of sneakers, not the usual foot attire way back then. He'd recently moved to Schaghticoke after having lived  in Cal. a few years before that, and pretty much all the clothes and shoes he owned had been recently purchased for business.
     In a few minutes, another couple got on, and they handed Dave their tickets, which he took without saying a word. His arms were still casually folded across his chest, and they just placed the tickets in his hand.  Then others did the same. And others. By the time the operator arrived, the ride was nearly full, but he accepted tickets from the newcomers, never questioning those already on.
    So we rode, got off the ride, Dave still with his ticket collection, laughing his head off.  I can't remember the rest of the story, but I don't think we used any of the tickets. It was fun though: me and the carny worker.