Carnivals bring us back to simpler times, when the biggest decision was whether to spend our dimes and quarters on messy cotton candy, or on chances to win the oversized stuffed tiger that looked as though he'd been hanging as a prize since the dawn of time. As adults, the fried dough, kettle corn, beer, rickety rides, flashing lights, myriad blips and chimes and buzzes, and the pop music mixed with carousel music, all still charm and delight, but look a little worse for wear when compared with our soft-focus childhood memories.

The annual Harbor & Carousel Festival at Ontario Beach Park doesn't disappoint on any of these fronts. The rain, however, was out to thwart my friends Tommy, Aubrey, and I when we stopped by last weekend on the last day of the festival. When we parked, the would-be spinning and whirling rides were mostly stopped, and rain-soaked festival-goers were headed for the exits. But we braved it, hoodies on, umbrellas in hand, and wandered past the vendors and toward the beach -- many people played volleyball, some kids made sand castles. One took a break to bargain for $1 to ride the carousel (there was another, simpler version of the park's carousel over at the carnival site).

We decided to walk up the street to Nola's while we waited out the rain, but it wasn't quite open yet. So, feeling windswept, we ventured over to Pier 45, where the staff was just switching over from brunch. We relaxed on the patio with some fancy drinks and a marguerita pizza, and enjoyed the fresh air even though the sky was still gray and overcast.

We finished, and the rain was coming down harder than ever. We couldn't leave, though, without playing at least one of the carnival games. Tommy sprung for a $5 bucket of rings at the ring toss. The huge stuffed pony and puppy prizes probably wouldn't have fit in my car anyway, but we were determined to get something...and didn't. The rings pinged and bounced off the bottles. The freckled female running the game swore it's not rigged, that people have won: "See the two ponies up there? There were seven earlier, if that tells you anything," she said.

We were going to head out -- the area was empty except for the workers, and the ground was getting pretty muddy -- but then the adjacent booth got our attention. Some lingerers were gathered around, and there was a live rat at the center of a game called the Rat Wheel. Tommy and Aubrey dug up some quarters to play. The man running the game spun the big wheel, then let his pet rat down his arm, into the wheel. It was divided into colors, each with a hole for the rat to escape into. If you bet the color the rat chose, you'd win. He chose aqua. We didn't. We left.