I thought maybe I’d start sharing why I picked a certain piece for the Sunday Blog Share. In this case, Almost Iowa gave me a hysterical reminder of the crazy, dangerous things I did as a kid. Prepare to laugh (or cringe).
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by Almost Iowa
Every summer my wife tries to get me on an amusement park ride called Steel Venom.
She loves the contraption – about as much as I hate it.
Last summer was no exception and one afternoon we found ourselves bickering in the shadow of a half roller-coaster half catapult.
“You’re chicken,” she taunted.
“Not at all,” I said.
Overhead, the ride flexed and moaned as a trolley corkscrewed its way up a high tower. When it reached the top, it paused for one heart-thumping moment to dangle its riders above a flock of confused birds – then it plunged into a wild spiral that ended only inches from the ground.
The riders flashed by us, howling in terror. A few wore faces whiter than death and I thought for a moment that I recognized an old friend among them.
Without the slightest hesitation or remorse, the trolley fired up a companion tower then repeated the process over and over – until everyone, rider and observer alike, was nauseous.
“Don’t look like much fun to me,” I observed.
“Chicken,” she repeated.
Believe me, Steel Venom did not frighten me. I’ve dodged bullets, survived a car wreck and endured an audit by the IRS and not one of those things even quickened my pulse – because nothing, absolutely nothing will ever come close to the ride I took on a Radio Flyer wagon when I was six years old.
At first, I simply put things into my wagon and towed them around the yard. But I soon discovered it was more fun to hop in the wagon and roll down our backyard hill…
(Continue Reading: Steel Venom)