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Mind Over Matter

slip slidin' away

Okay, so now we’re into July and amusement park season. I’ve found people are of two minds about the places: they love them or are indifferent. Nobody, of course, hates an amusement park; what’s the point?

Kids fall into the first category. Most people under the age of eighteen love rides, the higher and faster the better. That keeps the designers and engineers gainfully employed as they constantly try to add to the “gee whiz” factor. Most of the time it works; there are those times where it kills people. Roll the bones, friend, and keep your arms and legs inside the vehicle at all times.

Some rides, though, never seem to go out of fashion. Here in Cincinnati, once upon a time we had a Coney Island (as did NYC), and my soon-to-be wife and I enjoyed the Tunnel of Love ride there. Basically the thing was a boat trip through a dark, twisting, utterly black tunnel (it was best, I suppose, not to be able to see what was floating in the water), and lasted about four minutes.

The voyage of l'amour would then abruptly end in a bumpy ride up a ramp—still in complete blackness—where you’d burst through a couple doors and hang on tight as your boat hauled arse down a long slide to a splashdown in a big pool. However amorous a couple had gotten during those four minutes in the dark, it was effectively extinguished when they got drenched at the end of the ride.

As Mr. Vonnegut put it, “and so it goes.”
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