Episode 18: Lessons on Art and Grieving from Carousel Operator, Burt Rashbaum

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast.

On today’s episode, you'll meet Carousel Operator, Burt Rashbaum. He’s one of only a handful of people who have the distinct privilege of operating the carousel, something he has done since September 2010. In addition to operating a carousel, Burt is a multi-hyphenate artist who has spent his entire life soaking up the details of his life, and processing them through his work. You’ll hear about his creative process, why he loves the carousel, and how a personal tragedy forced him to be transformed by the carousel just like its visitors.

Don't forget to vote for Mayor of the Carousel – voting ends May 26!

• Learn more about the Mayor Election and the perks of voting! (https://carouselofhappiness.org/mayor-of-the-carousel/) 
• Ready to cast your vote? Here's the link to the ballot. (https://carouselofhappiness.org/mayor-ballot/)

The Carousel of Happiness is a nonprofit arts & culture organization dedicated to inspiring happiness, well-being, and service to others through stories and experiences.

If you enjoy the podcast, please consider visiting the Carousel of Happiness online (https://carouselofhappiness.org/), on social media (https://www.facebook.com/carouselofhappiness), or in real life; or consider donating (https://carouselofhappiness.app.neoncrm.com/forms/general-donation) to keep the carousel and its message alive and spinning 'round and 'round.

If you have a story to share, please reach out to Allie Wagner at outreach@carouselofhappiness.org

Special thanks to songwriter, performer, and friend of the carousel, Darryl Purpose (https://darrylpurpose.com/), for sharing his song, "Next Time Around," as our theme song.

Transcript

Welcome to the Carousel of Happiness Podcast. I’m your host, Allie Wagner. 

As you know, we are in the throes of the Carousel of Happiness’s Mayoral Election season. That’s right, the intensity is ratcheting up here in the carousel house. We’ve got just over a month left to go in voting and Lion has pawed his way to the top of the heap with 402 votes, Dragon and Pig are running in a dead heat for second at 277 votes each.

And folks in the Piggy Stardust camp pulled out all the stops this Easter Weekend with a massive celebrity campaign event. They got – wait for it – local piggy celebrities, Bolton and Berlin, from the Tail of Two Cities Animal Sanctuary to make an appearance at the carousel’s Easter celebration in support of Pig.

I know. Bolton and Berlin. This was a huge coup for the pig camp. And – the two stars were joined by their famous dog brother, Darwin, and their teenage yak sister, Tallie. I know. The rumor’s are true – Tallie is Bull Murray’s niece. It has been confirmed.

It seems everyone over at the Tail of Two Cities is in the Pig camp these days. Curiously, we haven’t heard anything from Dragon’s inner circle yet. Nor do we know the implications of last weekend’s visit on the polls. It’ll be interesting to see how it all unfolds. 

Whew. I don’t know about you, but it’s either finally spring around here or things are starting to heat up.

On last week’s episode, I found it important to address the flagrant errors in the Mountain Ear’s April 1st edition of the paper, which claimed to have broken the story of Elephant’s recent disappearance. On that episode, I set the record straight on a few things, and you got to hear what really happened that night. If you missed it, please be sure to check it out.

On today’s episode, I am introducing you to Carousel Operator, Burt Rashbaum. He’s one of only a handful of people who have the distinct privilege of operating the carousel, something he has done since September 2010. In addition to operating a carousel, Burt is a multi-hyphenate artist who has spent his entire life soaking up the details of his life, and processing them through his work. You’ll hear about his creative process, why he loves the carousel, and how a personal tragedy forced him to be transformed by the carousel just like its visitors.

Let us begin with today’s story.

GONG

You know who Carousel Operator, Burt Rashbaum, is even if you don’t think you do. Because Burt has the unique distinction of being the only voice, other than my own, you’ve heard on this podcast so far.

Remember, Episode 1? We talked about how each carousel operator tells the origin story of the carousel to visitors before each and every ride. And the details of that story tend to be different, depending on the individual operator, and their personal relationship to the carousel.

And on that first episode, I used Burt’s version of the story as an example. Take a listen.

BURT’S OPENING.

And I used Burt’s opening intentionally because, as of right now, his operator story is my favorite. I love how direct it is. How to the point it is. How very “Burt” it is.

Burt is a Brooklyn boy, born and bred. You can tell in that opening. Burt is a poet and has been one for over 60 years. You can tell in that opening. There is no one else in the entire world who would put those exact words together in that specific way.

Only Burt.

My husband and I rode the carousel last weekend, and Burt was operating. That’s  actually why I rode the carousel last weekend. I knew Burt was the subject of this week’s podcast, but in putting it together, I realized I hadn’t yet had the opportunity to ride with Burt. We both work at the carousel on Mondays, but typically I’m busy doing other things and don’t always have time to ride. 

I had already interviewed Burt earlier in the week, but I thought it was important to see him in action.

Mel Robbins says that people show you exactly who they are by how they act. Not what they say. Not what they tell you. But how they act.

So I was curious – what would I learn about Burt at the carousel that he hadn’t already told me in our interview? Would I see something different? Would it change my perspective somehow? 

Take a listen.

*

Burt’s first memory was when he was 3 years old. He was standing in a circle surrounded by his dad and his dad’s friends. It was a late summer evening in the Catskills and the men were smoking and drinking and talking about manly things. 

And 3-year-old Burt remembers standing in the center of this circle of men, putting up his little chubby hands to command their attention, and saying with much gravitas, “OK. No laughing. No talking. Show’s about to start.”

And the Brooklyn Boy would regale the men with his toddler tales and silly banter.

And that’s the first time Burt remembers enjoying the attention and applause of an audience.

When my husband and I arrive at the carousel on Saturday to ride with Burt, it is evident he still enjoys the attention of a crowd. He’s comfortable with the mic, he chats people up, he teases the regulars he knows. He knows how to work a crowd.

Burt treats his carousel shifts like a “gig.” Burt’s been a gigging musician since he and his pals from junior high started their own band. 

And he can tell you every detail about it. They played 2 parties, wrote one original song, and one year, in high school, during the last week of class, his band got permission to play a song in each and every classroom. 

It was a big deal to Burt. 

And when he’s telling me these stories last week over coffee, it’s clear he remembers all of it. All of the details of each and every memory he’s ever had. 

Burt has the memory of an artist. Someone who has fully experienced the sensory details of his life, and used that as fodder for art. 

And Burt’s been making art since he was 3 years old. Standing in that circle commanding the attention of his father and his father’s friends. 

And it’s clear during my ride on the carousel that he still loves to be in the center of a circle.

When Burt operates he wears a big, red clown nose and he dances. He waves at the little kids, and winks at the big ones. While he might not be 3 years old anymore, Burt is still enjoying the exchange between artist and audience.

In addition to operating the carousel, Burt plays and writes music, writes and performs poetry. He writes novels and short stories. He’s published 4 or 5 novels, about a hundred short stories, he has a book of poetry at the carousel, and he gigs with his band on a regular basis. He is a powerhouse of creativity and idea generation in whatever form it wishes to take. 

And, from the sounds of it, he’s pretty much been this way his entire life.

Burt remembers writing poetry before he even got to junior high. Most of his friends were artists too. They would wander the streets of New York City soaking up the details of life there, and later churning out poem after poem, song after song. He and his friends would play creative games together, they’d collaborate, and they’d share their work.  

In our conversation at the train cars, Burt whizzes from one story to the next. First, we’re talking about the carousel, then we’re talking about how he moved to Colorado from Buffalo. In each story, he’s got a memory to share, a connection he wants to make. 

He tells me about how he and his wife, Sharon, met. They were supposed to have dinner at a friend’s house, but the couple got into a fight. Instead, he and the other dinner guests, Sharon included, went to a local bar to have a drink.

He was taken with Sharon that night, and they talked all night long. 

Three weeks later, they moved in together. Shortly thereafter, they moved to Boulder and Burt got a job working in the Department of Arts & Sciences at CU. He worked there for 31 years and 6 months.

In 1981, they got married and moved to Nederland. Burt commuted to CU while Sharon managed Boulder’s first gourmet food store, and later became a postpartum doula. Their son, Max, was born in 1991.

All the while, Burt lived and made art. He wrote songs and recited poetry. He published novels and short stories. He went back to school and got his Master’s Degree. 

Life was great.

*

When I ask Burt about his current writing practice, he tells me about his Wednesdays. They start off, first thing in the morning, with a walk around Barker Reservoir, followed by a day cleaning his fish tank. 

He explains to me that cleaning his fish tank is an act of meditation that allows him to get in “a state of being.” And when he’s in that “state of being,” the muse often visits.

Sometimes with a line of poetry. Sometimes with an idea. 

And when she visits, he’ll stop, he’ll sit down with the idea, and he’ll play with it until it runs its course. Then he returns to his fish tank, finds that elusive “state of being,” and watches what happens next.

And that’s what he was doing in 2021 a couple of days after the King Soopers shooting in Boulder. He was cleaning his fish tank and wondering what he could say to the 10 families who had just lost someone they loved.

And that’s when he realized.

Nothing.

Nothing he could say could make those families feel better. Not right now. And not by him.

But when he returned to his fish tank he realized something else.

He might not be able to say anything right now to those families to mitigate their pain, but the sun might have something to say to them.

And that day, Burt wrote a song, channeling all of the grief and confusion he saw on the news into verses of solace and comfort coming from the voice of the sun.

All while cleaning his fish tank. 

*

Burt found out about the carousel in 2007. His friend was starting a local newspaper and asked him to write a story about this local guy and the carousel he wanted to build. Burt wrote a couple of stories about Scott, and got hooked on the magic. 

Burt and Sharon started volunteering in the gift shop when it opened in 2010. And while he enjoyed his time there, it was clear to him that operating was really where he wanted to be.

One day, in September 2010, an existing operator decided the work wasn’t for him. And, lucky for Burt, Sharon was working at the gift shop that morning and alerted her husband to the news. She called him. Come right away. 

Burt has been operating the carousel ever since.

And he admits, it took him some time to work out his carousel operator story. It was something he edited and refined over time, just like any good storyteller would. Whenever there was more to learn about the place, he soaked the information up. He has read every book about the carousel, every article about Scott. He is a historian and steward of the narrative legacy of the Carousel of Happiness.

In all of his time here, he’s had a front row seat to the transformation possible when people visit. On a daily basis, in 3 minute increments, Burt has seen people change before his very eyes. 

Little did he know, he would soon become one of the transformed.

*

Burt can tell you every single detail about his last morning with Sharon. It was the day after Christmas. After the “perfect Christmas” – a term Sharon herself used that morning to describe the night before. She and Burt walked to the Co-Op for breakfast. They were picking up a few groceries when Sharon got a call to come to the visitor’s center. She worked there now; it was her retirement gig. Apparently, someone needed to buy a shirt, and she was right around the corner, it was no big deal. So, she went to the visitor’s center and Burt went back to the house. 

He expected to see her there shortly.

But instead Sharon called him. “Come right away,” she said.

Burt arrived at the visitor’s center to find his wife curled up on the floor behind the counter.

They called 911; she went to the hospital.

Waiting in the hospital, Burt was optimistic. He knew his wife was healthy, and even though they didn’t know what was wrong, it was okay. That’s what doctors are for. They’d find out what was wrong, and then they’d deal with it together.

And that was still what Burt was thinking when the doctors called him aside to speak with him in a very tiny room off the hallway in the hospital.

Apparently, they had done all they could, but Sharon wouldn’t make it through the night.

“What are you talking about?” Burt wanted to know. They had just had the perfect Christmas. Sharon said so herself. And she was healthy –  she took care of her body, she cared about what she ate. Wouldn’t make it through the night? It didn’t make sense.

They had been together 46 ½ years. They were about to be grandparents in 4 months. This wasn’t how the story went. 

*

Burt took about 8 weeks off of work at the carousel to grieve. And to deal with the “business of death” as he calls it – funeral homes, paperwork – that sort of stuff.

And he remembers his first shift back at the carousel after his break. He admits he had a bit of a chip on his shoulder. The love of his life, his wife, the health nut and the vegan, the soon-to-be grandmother, was gone. 

And he wasn’t sure he’d be able to go to work at a place called, the Carousel of “Happiness” anymore. What did he know of happiness?

Before his first shift, the Brooklyn Boy said to himself, “you talk a mean game about this place,” he said. 

Now, prove it. 

The truth is, Burt had seen the carousel’s effect on others, but he was a little worried about his own capacity to be transformed. He started second guessing himself. Was it all just talk? Could the carousel reach a wound this deep? 

Turns out, it could. Burt found himself feeling better and better after every shift. There was something about being forced out of the house, being forced to step outside his own grief, that allowed other parts of himself to reemerge. The happy parts. The joyful ones.

Slowly and surely, Burt started to feel better. But he’s quick to emphasize that it comes in waves. Some days are good, others more challenging. 

And it’s clear his artist’s memory is still churning about Sharon. Still trying to make connections, still trying to understand, still trying to justify the unjustifiable. 

He can’t help it. He’s spent his entire life as a student of the world, and now he’s got a story he just can’t quite crack.

And I know all of this when I watch Burt last Saturday, dancing in the center of the carousel with a big red clown nose, as children and adults alike spin round and round. 

He’s still the Brooklyn Boy in the center of the circle, watching and observing the world around him.

Be sure to visit the carousel and say hi to Burt. Ask him to tell you a story about the carousel you don’t know already. He’s got plenty.

And he’s got another book coming out in the next couple of months. Be sure to follow the Carousel on social media to hear about his next project.

In the meantime, take care. Be well. And, as we like to say at the Carousel of Happiness, “don’t delay joy.” And we’ll see you next time around.