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       Another round, another doll
       July, 10 2023
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       Written on a train to London Gatwick,
       then on top of a mountain overlooking
       the Garda Lake
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  When I was a kid in Italy, merry-go-rounds always came as 
  some kind of a joint experience, merging the enjoyment of a 
  ride on some exotic kind of transportation -from horses to 
  jeeps or police cars, with plenty of lights and noises and
  buttons that could activate them- and a competition against
  other kids trying to win a prize that was, most of the 
  times, another free ride.
  
  To win, one had to catch something -in some cases a doll, in
  others something closer to those raccoon tails you see on
  coonskin caps- bouncing up and down while the same person 
  who operated the merry-go-round was pulling, more or less
  randomly, the rope this doll was hanging from.
  
  I say more or less because that guy pretended to do it 
  randomly, while he usually tried to favor younger kids who
  would otherwise have fewer chances to get the prize. And
  while you might think this is fair, it was not to me as a
  kid, which is also the reason why I say "guy". I have a very
  specific person in mind, my archnemesis at the time: a
  pimple-faced teenager who (at least in my 7 years old mind)
  always tried to trick me and make other kids win.
  
  To get the prize I had to trick him back, so in many rides I
  developed a pretty solid technique: I pretended I was
  distracted and that I was not seeing that doll hanging close
  to my head until it was too late for him to pull it away,
  then I quickly grabbed it and won the free ride.
  
  The point of this story is not the complicated relationship
  with my at-the-time archnemesis though, but rather the phrase
  he used to say at the end of every ride and the beginning of
  the next (hopefully free) one: "Altro giro, altra bambolina!"
  he was saying ("Another round, another doll!"), almost as if
  he was challenging me to try and take another one.
  
  Well, this summer's a bit like "Another round, another doll!"
  for me: every time I complete a ride, a new one is starting
  with a new challenge. Not that I do not enjoy the rides, but
  I am starting to feel the same pressure I had when riding
  merry-go-rounds. And while I am grateful that this thought
  has brought me some nice childhood memories, I have come to
  the realization that my archnemesis has always been, and
  still is, just me.