I call it: Awesome Part Two!
We drove to the shore (a treat in and of itself -- a car in the city with no running meter!) and spent about four thousand years waiting to get into a parking lot, due to a completely ball- and clueless officer directing traffic. But once in, our first stop was, of course, Nathan's. For a corn dog! (mmmm.... corn dog!)
After that, we set out to hit the rides. I was a little pooped from not sleeping well the night before, so I was the designated papparazzi. Until my camera battery died... about ten minutes later. But before that, I got a few cute shots, like Lisa and Max on the dragon coaster:
RJ and Max on the, what? Tilt a Whirl? Brain Scrambler? Barf Inducer? I forget.
And that's it. Within thirty seconds of this shot, the batteries kicked it. And so did the replacements. So there was (for me) no photographic evidence of the most amazing part of the day -- Max's first (and second) (and third) (and fourth) (and fifth) ride on the freefall.
Now, the little man is not yet even four, but he's already practically 6'2", so he was officially tall enough to ride that ride on his own and declared he didn't need Daddy to go on it with him. So the three of us stood off to the side, Lisa tense and greyish-green (which was probably just due to her stint on the Dizzy Dragon ride -- she's not so good with the spinning), RJ ready to catch him, should he come flying out of the ride, and me, well, breathing for all three of us.
They strapped him in, tiny feet barely hanging over the edge of the seat, and the ride went up.... up... up... and then fell back to earth. And the look on Max's face went from apprehension... to more apprehension... to mild panic... and then to sheer ecstasy. That kid was born to ride that ride! The second and third times he rode it, he thrashed his head around like the mini-punk rocker that he is, and screamed with joy. Every time the ride finished for good, you could hear "AGAIN! AGAIN!" ringing through the park. And I think he was so cute that the operator let him ride a couple of times for free.
When all the rides on the ride card were punched, we headed over to the WonderWheel (which won't be destroyed when they gentrify the boardwalk), but I think it's probably the last summer for this view:
Who knows what they're going to put in there, but it won't be as honky-tonklicious as this. (And yeah, I got enough battery power back for one last shot.)
I should have taken hitting my head on the WonderWheel as a sign of things to come (I truly clocked myself), but no. From there we headed over to [insert ominous music cue] the Cyclone.
This picture, though tiny and not mine, gives a pretty good indication of how plummetty, gut-disgorgey and absolutely terrifiying that first drop can be. (No wonder it's been removed from the Cyclone's official site!)
You do really think you're going to fly off the tracks. It was a fascinating combination of exhiliration and fear -- mostly three parts fear to one part exhiliration -- and definitely SHAKEN and not stirred.(This image represents pretty much how I feel about it now).
I'll say this: I've done it, I'm officially a Brooklynite and I don't ever have to do it again. (And that gives me great joy)
The day wrapped up with a trip to the aquarium and feelings of sheer exhaustion... and much later, after I had recovered a bit, it ended with Thea and I frosting cupcakes and drunk dialing people from the office of the bar she works in. We are KWA-LEE-TAY gals!
The only problem with such an excellent weekend is that it's kind of making my soul itchy to get back outside and play more. Sure is hard to sit here (or do homework for that matter) when there's so much fun to be had.
(grumble grumble bryant gumble)
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