Michael Sean Comerford - American OZ

Bally A routine drawing a sideshow crowd

Carny A carnival worker, usually on rides

Carny Code Unwritten worker rules

Cutting Up Jackpots Telling carnival stories

Flash Flashy array of prizes. Swag in Britain

Gaff Tricks, illusions or way of fixing a game

Hole Job slot or a joint space

Joint A booth for games

Jointee A person working in a game joint

Plush Stuffed animals and toys for prizes

Possum Belly A storage area under a ride

Ride Jockey A person running rides

Showman An entertainer. Sometimes a jointee

Slough Carnival teardown; rhymes with cow

With it Worker traveling with the carnival

The writing of American OZ became a mission of sorts and inspired two people to volunteer their talents. Mary-Margaret Green and Dick Westguard donated their work to make American OZ possible.

A renowned journalist/editor who worked for the Washington Star, Washington Post, and Washington Times, Mary-Margaret Greens keen eye and generous spirit were inspirations.

Dick Westguard is an Art Institute of Chicago-trained artist and former newspaper graphics editor. His route map is crucial to understanding the scope and majesty of the year.

Already a fan of American OZ online, freelance editor Kevin Kohler asked to edit the book. His editing and advice were invaluable.

Writer Caren Chesler let me crash on her couch for a time in Harlem and provided contacts. She is a true believer in the power of the stories.

Chicago author/broadcaster/journalist Rick Kogan was an early backer when American OZ was just a blog with videos being posted from fast food joints and carnival bunkhouses across North America. Rick has a genius for seeing the best in people.

Sometimes out on the road, life is gorgeous.

I was a ride jockey, jointee, and a hitchhiker for a year. I was slinging iron and pushing plush across the USA. Thousands of miles of sleeping, eating, and working with carnies, showmen, and sideshow freaks. The year ended in a way that made sense of the journey. The world runs on untold stories.

The year began with an omen, a Chicago blizzard that said, Get back fool. I was nearly flat broke when I jumped on a westbound train named the California Zephyr. I didnt have money to get back. I was living on a thread, and had to make the year work.

The Zephyr blew across the Mississippi, Colorado, Humboldt, Wasatch, and Truckee rivers. We passed through the Glenwood and Ruby canyons and across the Rocky, Pequop, and Sierra Nevada mountains. We beat a path across the Bonneville Salt Flats and the Forty Mile Desert on the way to the San Francisco Bay.

My plans to spend the season with one carnival fell apart early. I thought my year was finished until I began hitchhiking between carnivals. I saw the drivers as part of the greater story.

Drivers were the Americans carnivals served. And carnies in Alaska are different from carnies in Mexico. People are products of their place in this world. Geography became context.

I could empathize with carnival people making their home on the road. Im the oldest of four kids in a family that moved ten times before settling in the Chicago area. In my young mind, I linked moving to a new home with a life of discovery. Sights unseen. Amazing people. Wonder.

I bicycled three times cross-country. I rode freight trains and herded cattle out West. And I hitchhiked around the U.S., Europe, the Middle East, and North Africa. As a journalist, I worked in Chicago, New York, and in the so-called Wild East after the fall of communism in Hungary and Russia. I toured almost a hundred countries, stopping to study at a Tibetan Buddhist monastery in the Himalayas. Ive interviewed homeless people, immigrants, CEOs, and billionaires.

Millions of people every year go to state fairs, street festivals, and church parking-lot fundraisers. Even more have childhood memories of the smell of cotton candy and running amok with friends on and off rides. People remember the rides, games, and the overpoweringly unhealthy food. They want that again this year and next.