When I was younger, my favorite ride was the roller coaster. Living in California meant being close-ish to places like Six Flags, Marine World, the Santa Monica Pier, Knotts Berry Farm, and, the ultimate, Disneyland.
March was the perfect time to visit amusement parks. Winter was gone, but not enough to make standing in lines sometimes for hours in the sun unpleasant. It was the shade that could still give you the chills, especially in the early or later hours of the day.
Why was the rollercoaster my favorite? From the moment I stepped into the line, I could feel the anticipation of the people around me. Would they actually do this? Would they bail at the last minute? Was there an escape route? And with all the ribbing and waiting, I rarely saw anyone exit stage left.
The yank of the cars as the chain catches hold to carry me and the rest of the people who are now my tribe to the top of a man-made tower with rails that could shoot us all straight to heaven. Sitting in the front car low…
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