One sure sign of summer -- at county fairs and shopping malls, on empty lots at the edge of town -- is the carnival. For those who keep the glitter glittering, it's a job, and not a bad one, but has little to do with the stereotypes associated with the carny lifestyle. Lyn Duff is on the staff of YO! (Youth Outlook), a magazine by and about young people produced by Pacific News Service.

They come into town in U-Hauls and motor homes, and stay no longer than three weeks. They work from morning 'til midnight or later, and have a language all their own. They're carnies, the people, mostly young, who work in traveling carnivals. Beneath the shadow of the roller coaster, they may spend their days strapping kids into rides, dressing up as cartoon characters, or running game booths.

Brandon, 20, has been a carny for a year and a half. "I started working for the carnival when I was on the streets in Tucson, Arizona, just bumming around. Someone told me the fair was in town, so I jumped on. They gave me a job the first day I showed up."

Brandon is a "joiny" -- he runs a game booth (or "joint") where people try to pop balloons with a dart in the hope of winning a poster or decorative mirror. "Nobody's a loser!" he yells, motioning towards the prize posters, many of which feature scantily-clad women. He works from ten a.m. until the big Ferris wheel turns out its lights at 11:30 or midnight.

Brandon grew up in foster care and lived on the street off and on as a teenager. The carnival gives him an honest job and a chance to support himself. He travels a lot, makes about $200 week, lives in a U-Haul and says he is happy.

Brandon thinks carnival workers are often unfairly stereotyped. "Everybody says a carny is a homeless drug addict, a bum," he complains. "That's not true. I'm not a drug addict and I'm not homeless. I choose to sleep inside the truck--that way I'm never late for work."

Josh, who is 23, says many of the carnies steal money from they get for selling chances at their game booths, some because they have drug problems. These usually involve stimulants or "speed," he explains. "We work all day, stay up late, sleep in cars or on the floor of our game booth. You get exhausted, and sometimes speed is the only thing keeping you awake while you run that roller coaster."

Brandon recognizes that "A lot of young people just come here to make a quick buck," -- but, he points out, "everybody has a different story. The carnival is where all the misfits fit in."

Both Josh and Brandon would like to settle down and stay in one place, but neither sees that becoming a reality any time soon. For one thing, Brandon explains, "I make more money here than I would at McDonald's." Carnies are not paid until the end of each "spot" -- the term for both the place and the time spent at a particular place -- but are allowed to borrow money as an advance against their pay each day. At the end of his last spot, Brandon only got $20, not the $400 he expected because he'd blown so much on junk food and cigarettes.

Allison's story is just the opposite of running away to join the circus. A summer job with the carnival gives her the chance to spend time with her family. "My mom, my step-dad and my sisters all work here," says Allison, who is 17, and spends the school year with relatives in Nevada. She and her sister work a booth where players try to throw a dart into the middle of a star to win a big Tweetie Bird.

"We live with my mom and step-dad in the trailer, we get to spend 20 percent of what we earn, and at the end of the summer I usually have a lot of money in the bank," Allison says. Her sister Julie made $20 a day last summer working as a "runner," collecting money and doing errands. By fall, she had enough money to buy a bike and put something aside for college.

"It's cool, because I get to work with people and we make a lot of money," says Allison. "It's not your typical summer job."

But all agree that the image of carnival life as glamorous and exciting, which fills the dream of running away and joining up, is far from reality.

"I don't think they have a very realistic idea of what they're running away to," says Josh, who's been with the carnival since his parents started working there 14 years ago. "Kids usually run away from something. When they get here, they realize that the fun and excitement and flashing lights are just a facade."