Mr. Kauffman – thank you for sharing your writing talents with those of us who possess none. I was brought to tears this early morning in downtown Green Bay, WI while reading your WSJ review of Carnie. It transported me back to my childhood days and the emotions the good citizens of our small north central Wisconsin town (pop. 908) felt awaiting the annual arrival of the Carnie. My beloved English teacher mother was the mother of five and divorcee of the town drunk/railroad foreman. . As Catholics in that area, we were ingrained with fear, judgment and suspicion of anything or anyone different. In several ways, that’s even how many in our town felt about of my own family. Magically when the Carnie came rolling in – the town turned its heated glare to those outsiders who they felt where even “less than” some members of its own citizenry. As a small child, the Carnie gave me an opportunity to be a legitimized part of my community in their united front of apprehension but for me, this was mixed with an incredible excitement of the unknown and the relief from the judgmental spotlight. Today, your beautifully written words streamed into my heart and out through my tears. Thank you. Monica Berg Golomski
“Dago Louie”! Let’s hope he’s one carnie who rests under a marked grave in consecrated ground, where a Wop can still visit the Remains of the Dago.
Thanks for your kind words, Ms. Golomski. Merry Christmas!
I am a dago quadroon, Peters, so make sure your regular chair at Applebee’s faces the front door.
Mr. Kauffman – thank you for sharing your writing talents with those of us who possess none. I was brought to tears this early morning in downtown Green Bay, WI while reading your WSJ review of Carnie. It transported me back to my childhood days and the emotions the good citizens of our small north central Wisconsin town (pop. 908) felt awaiting the annual arrival of the Carnie. My beloved English teacher mother was the mother of five and divorcee of the town drunk/railroad foreman. . As Catholics in that area, we were ingrained with fear, judgment and suspicion of anything or anyone different. In several ways, that’s even how many in our town felt about of my own family. Magically when the Carnie came rolling in – the town turned its heated glare to those outsiders who they felt where even “less than” some members of its own citizenry. As a small child, the Carnie gave me an opportunity to be a legitimized part of my community in their united front of apprehension but for me, this was mixed with an incredible excitement of the unknown and the relief from the judgmental spotlight. Today, your beautifully written words streamed into my heart and out through my tears. Thank you. Monica Berg Golomski
“Dago Louie”! Let’s hope he’s one carnie who rests under a marked grave in consecrated ground, where a Wop can still visit the Remains of the Dago.
Thanks for your kind words, Ms. Golomski. Merry Christmas!
I am a dago quadroon, Peters, so make sure your regular chair at Applebee’s faces the front door.
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