Monday, August 18, 2014

Tell 'Em Big Baby Sent Ya!

Have you ever looked fear in the face and said, "I just don't care"?
 -P!nk

I used to be somewhat more adventurous of a person than I now am. I don't know when exactly it was that I turned into a fuddy-duddy, but it happened a few years ago. I woke up one morning, and there he was: a bona fide fuddy-duddy, staring back at me in the mirror.

You'll all get older someday, too. That's both a threat and a promise.

I think that it is a good idea, nonetheless, to occasionally take a look back at some of those things that used to be part of your routine and wonder why you don't do some of those things anymore, maybe even to do some new things that might scare you a little bit. For example, going to Lagoon at least once every summer.

It's something that your very own Angry White Loner used to do, but until a couple of weeks ago, he hadn't been to the friendly confines for 13 (count 'em, 13) years. It was beyond time that he give it another try and go on some rides, for heck's sake.

When I talk about doing things that scare you a little, I'm not, of course,  advocating doing unnecessarily stupid things, such as drag racing through your neighborhood or tying rubber bands together and then bungee jumping. Or even eating at Five Guys Stomach Flu and Food Poisoning. Ever.

It was good to be back at Lagoon and to try to, once again, erase those horrible memories of having worked there for a summer when I was 17 years old.

OK, a little off topic there. Anyway, the rides have changed a great deal in my 13-year absence from the park. Some of the ones that were there last time are still quite terrifying, like The Rocket. My ride on the new(ish) Samurai was quite possibly the most frightening experience I've ever had. And I've witnessed a terrorist attack up close.

I spent the course of the ride much like the Cowardly Lion in The Wizard of Oz, chanting, "I do believe in spooks! I do believe in spooks!" over and over again, until after what seemed like 17 straight hours strapped in, it mercifully ended, after which I basically French-kissed the ground and promised her that we'd never, ever fight again.

When you've not been on a roller coaster or other amusement park ride for 13 years, you apparently have about 13 years' worth of motion sickness to make up for. That, or the lap bars fit a bit more snugly than they used to, if you catch my drift. Whatever the reason(s), I had to sit out for a few rides while my friends continued to party on. I never fully recovered that night, but I did end up going back on a few more rides to round out the evening. And I'm glad that I did.

It's what fun is. Or what it used to be. There's still more fun to be had.

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