Last night we took the church kids to Oaks Park, an old fashioned amusement park down on the Willamette River. (More like a permanent fair midway than like a slick Six-Flags type place.) Since last summer my own kids have somehow graduated from kiddie rides and now want to explore more thrilling possibilites.
Sisters and Brothers, hear my testimony: My inner ear, she ain't what she used to be. I, who in my prime could fly on the tiltiest, spinniest, twistiest, twirliest rides that ever graced a theme park, found myself staggering off the Tilt-A-Whirl and lurching toward the nearest coke machine for some stomach settling elixer. I haven't turned that particular shade of green since a stormy English Channel crossing the winter I was sixteen.
Oh well, there's still the bumper cars--at least till my back gives out.
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Oh, I soooo understand. I once had a particularly heinous encounter with a Tilt-a-Whirl. Since then I've tried to stay on the tame rides, or better yet, the beer gardens....
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