Let's Go To the Ex

The Canadian National Exhibition began around 1897 as a fair to promote agriculture and machinery in Southern Ontario. It remains the 7th largest fair in North America. As dull as that sounds, the CNE remains alive and well in 2013.

The CNE's numerous buildings were never really a big draw for me when I was younger. The Midway, with its rides, games and creepshows was where it was at! It was the ultimate place to wander for hours and people-watch. I don't remember winning anything at the games. I always thought they were a little sketchy. The carnival workers, or carnies, who staffed them never looked that trustworthy. After a while, the noise and the bright lights were pretty much guaranteed to give you a headache.

I saw some great concerts at the CNE stadium, even if the stadium itself was a pretty prehistoric venue for a rock show. There was also a time when admission to the CNE got you into Ontario Place for free.

Long before the Molson Amphatheatre, Ontario Place offered the Forum. The Forum was an open air concert venue where you sat on the grassy hills that surrounded a revolving stage and enjoyed a concert in the open air. It was awesome.

Of all of the years that I have paid the Ex a visit, I think 2003 may have been the most memorable.

My wife and I had taken our family down to Ontario Place for the day. It was late August and the weather could not have been more perfect. We enjoyed a day full of fun but by nightfall, the parents were tired and it was time to head home. Or at least I thought it was.

My wife, who is far more outgoing than I, suggested a quick tour of the Midway before heading home. The others in our little group thought it was an excellent idea. I wasn't so sure.

In truth, I was tired, irritated and extremely short-tempered by this point. My wallet was pretty much empty and I really wasn't up to the noise and congestion of the midway.

After about a half hour, my son (who was 6 at the time) asked if he could play a game. We'd been watching some guys playing a game and Doug asked if he could have a go at it. The game required the player to pitch a ball at a wall of china plates. If you managed to break one, you won a prize corresponding to the label on the back of the plate.

Now we stood there a while and watched these guys take a few turns trying to break a plate. Some missed, but some also hit. Still, even after several hits, tips and glances by the ball, no plates were broken.

"Three balls for five bucks" said the carnie working the stall when he saw that he had our interest. I actually think I may be down to my last five bucks, I thought to myself.

"Can I, Dad?" begged my son.

"Forget it!" I said. "If those guys couldn't break them, you really don't stand much of a chance".

"Let him try" cried my wife and a few others from our company.

"Come on!" the carnie chimed in, seeing that I was outnumbered.

Now, I was feeling tired, irritated, short tempered and CHEAP.

I peeled the $5 out of my wallet and handed it to the man. He passed three hardballs over to my son. Doug bit his bottom lip and wound up for his first throw. The ball fell short of the wall, rolling harmlessly under the back of the stall. The second shot was pretty good. It landed clear in the middle of three plates on the lower half of the wall.

Down to the last ball, I could see Doug's determination grow. He wound up and threw it with all his might. The ball hit the edge of a plate in the middle of the wall.  Instantly, the plate shattered and fell to the ground. A huge chorus of cheers erupted behind us. While I was watching Doug take his turn,  a sizable crowd had stopped to watch the little guy play.

Over the microphone, the carnie cried out "We've got a winner here! Large Prize! Large Prize! Winner, winner, chicken dinner!".

"What do you want kid?" he asked. My son pointed to a large green dragon hanging from the top of the stall. The carnie took it down and handed it over. I am sure he shot me a glare that said something like "See buddy, you're wrong about us!".

My son walked home an inch prouder that evening. After about 5 minutes, he passed me his prize and asked to climb up on my shoulders. I carried him and the dragon the rest of the way home.

I learned something that day. As we walked away from the stall, I told my son that I was wrong. This was exactly the reason why you don't listen when others tell you that you can't do something. I was proud of him.