The park was nearly empty, a scenario I entertained regularly before puberty shifted my priorities. I didn’t have to wait in a single line, so I rode every coaster there…by myself. Seriously. Let’s deduct a few cool points and move along, shall we? Those things beat the cuss out of me–nothing new there. It just seemed to hurt more than it used to. They also scared me. That was the troubling part.
I guess I’m saying that running and the ability to run effectively can make you think time is of no great importance. That age and its effects have no power here.
But these roller coasters, these glorious wooden and steel beasts I once rode multiple times in a row without any hesitation had at some point become too much for me. Those kids and their rock and roll music, etc., etc.
Anyway, I don’t see this experince as a negative–more as reverence observed. Time is so ephemeral, yet so inescapable. Then again, maybe they’re just making those things bigger and meaner these days. And that’s why I closed my eyes soup-to-nuts for five of the six coasters I rode.
Age is good, according to a recent New York Times article, stress reaches its lowest point at age 85. That’s when happiness peaks, too. Maybe that’s why the chocolate tastes better than it did 25 years ago. Thank you for the life lesson, Hershey. That funnel cake wasn’t bad either.