Off for a bit...and a rant on carnival rides
This weekend I'm going back to Kentucky for a visit with Dante. It's time for the Daniel Boone Festival--an event I haven't missed since I was a little girl. Now it's become part of Dante's life as well. There will be a parade on Saturday. The parade isn't what it used to be. There used to be several marching bands, lots of floats with scenes of pioneer life, and very interesting things in the parade. One year, there were a bunch of Scots who marched through with bagpipes. Usually, though, there is the never ending parade of cars (muscle cars, antique cars, somebody's beloved toy) and then young women on cars (Ms. Kentucky Long Rifle, the Daniel Boone Festival Queen, Princess, right on through to Wee Miss). There will also be funnel cake, a parade, Cherokee dances and songs and carnival rides.
I will probably have to ride The Scrambler enough times to make me sick. I will also probably have to ride the swings with Dante. I hate the swings. I always have visions of those metal chains snapping and sending me flying at however many miles per hour into the brick buildings on the court square.
Come to think of it, anymore I hate most carnival rides. When I was a teenager, they were great. When I got older, I realized just how much chewing gum and paper clip technology went into keeping those rusty rides together. I ride them now with my heart in my mouth.
But I'll get to make the beautiful drive to KY when the leaves are starting to turn, and I'll get to see my little boy--and see just how much taller he's gotten since last time.
I bet he still won't go in the Haunted House by himself, though.
posted by contemplator at Wednesday, October 04, 2006
2 Comments:
When I was a little kid, up until the time I was in my early teenage years, I was deathly afraid of the more stomach wrenching rides. But at the same time, I was resentful and embarassed of myself for being afraid. Afterward, I fought myself hard enough, and eventually, I was able to ride every 'scary' ride.
Funny coincidence. Just a couple of weeks ago, I went to the Big E, which is New England's Big Fair. Since all the New England states are all geographically small, and none of them have their own state fair, they all pitched in to have one big fair in Agawam, Mass.
I hope you don't get too lonely.
The only ride I ever really liked was the ferris wheel. I still have an unfulfilled fantasy (from Charlotte's Web, no less) of holding hands with a new love on the ferris wheel. The feeling you get as you start down is a bit like infatuation anyway.
At Six Flags Atlanta there is a ride that drops you a couple of stories in freefall. That's pretty fun, too. But I've never really enjoyed roller-coasters, and anything that spins makes me loose my cookies every time. Rides like "It's a small world" are just that shade too slow on your attention span - it makes it sinister (as if it weren't already with all those identical dolls in their different costumes and skins).
Have fun, enjoy the fall - take deep breaths.
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