A Day That Will Live in Infamy

A word of advice. The best day to visit an amusement park, if, for instance, you are not amused by standing in long lines for hours waiting for a 90-second ride, is the day they are expecting to be memorialized by being decimated by a category 3 hurricane. Bar none.

We arrived at the park with our RVVs (Return Visit Vouchers, in the vernacular) and went promptly to the Guest Services desk. Beaten to the punch only by a father and son team of Goth aficionados who couldn’t care less about the location of the courtesy water fountains or lockers (With wallets chained to your Wranglers, why bother?) but needed to know the longitude and latitude of every smoking area in the park. So we were delayed momentarily, while the other window at Guest Services remained unattended so that the cheerful person whose face might normally appear in it attended to the parents of triplet 3 year olds and their giant stroller. (Again, why bother?) This was our only delay.

The rest of the day was amusement park heaven. Minimal waits. Choice seats. No crowds to get lost among. Quick access to bathrooms, food and drink, park personnel. Dark clouds and the threat of imminent rain keeping the temperatures moderate and attendance low.

It is hard being a party of three at a park. If my kids liked the same rides, I could sit each one out, or share a car with a stranger. But they are an adventurer and a conservative, and never the twain shall meet. I have to ride everything. From slingshot propelled suspension roller coasters to rider controlled flying cars. It is not easy.

But Pat and Hil have matured to the point of realizing the challenge, and while they are no less demanding, have found a way to understand that I can not be upside down in rail car and putt-putt-putting around the park in a model-T at the same time. So Hil will gamely go solo on some rides, and Pat will take his pocketful of quarters to the arcade when he needs to kill time and wait for me and Hil. It is a nice change from the Don’t Talk to Strangers and Don’t Dare Move From This Spot days. Everyone has a cell phone. Provided it doesn’t get tossed into the lagoon by a coaster’s centrifugal force, we can manage the trip quite ably.

I wish I could say the same for everyone. Hil and I waited in one line for nearly 15 minutes we were so anxious to complete our run of coasters. In line a party or two in front of us were a trio of red heads. Not Susan Sarandon-Jessica Rabbit- Nichole Kidman redheads. No, Rubert Grint-Danny Bonaduce-Chuck Norris redheads. Two teenaged girls and their father. All engaging in generally rude behavior, especially considering that we were all confined to a line together. I sensed trouble.

Pat was off trying to win an enormous stuffed pig at the arcade and Hil and I were trying to keep up the nerve to ride the mother of all coasters, which enjoys a straight up lift and straight down plunge right at the beginning.

The ride was thrilling. Hil and I screamed our heads off and laughed out loud and high fived at the end. During one of the portions of the ride where we were briefly upright but in between death spins and plummeting drops, a camera mounted on a pole snaps a picture of the riders enjoying their brush with death.

I normally think that the prices for these photos are outrageous, especially considering that it is likely to get ruined when you walk across the path and get on the log flume, but in this case, I’d spend the money and take the risk.

Imagine our disappointment when we went to the photo counter and our picture was not available! The young man in the apron behind the counter sensed our initial confusion and asked us what was wrong.

“We don’t see our picture,” Hil replied.

“Were you in the middle car?” the boy asked.

“Yes!” Hil replied, brightly.

“Oh, we can’t print that picture. The girls in front of you, the two redheads, flipped off the camera and we can’t print that photo for anyone.”

Hil is confused. How could they turn off the camera?

The moment of truth. Not everyone is a Nice Person. “Sweetie, what that means, is those hideous poorly mannered girls with the unfortunate hair and freckles and buck teeth ruined it for everyone by making an obscene gesture at the camera. The park will not waste their money and ruin their reputation by distributing pictures with people giving the camera The Finger.”

And with that, Pat appeared out of the crowd and it began to rain. Time to head for home, pop some popcorn and watch the storm. Fortunately the last memory of the day could not undo the treasure that had been the rest of the day, or the lessons we all learned about patience and courtesy and enjoying your family.