Coming home can be such a drag...
After spending almost two weeks away from home, enjoying the company of some pretty terrific friends and riding several of this country's best roller coasters, I can honestly say I'm not in the least bit thrilled to be home and sleeping in my own bed again. I know...strange. I'm usually ready for the privacy of my own digs and yearning for a toilet seat that seems familiar under my ass (you know *exactly* what I mean) after only a few days but, this time, I didn't want to come home. It was good. No, it was better than good and I can't believe my vacation time is almost over.
If there was a down-side to the whole trip, it was getting *those* looks from the younger people in the parks. You know how it is. You can't help but study people when you stand in those lines (like a herd of cattle being directed through a maze of pens), so you see all kinds of wonderfully different folks and they, in turn, get to see you. Repeatedly.
Tall, short, fat, thin, bald, bearded, tattooed, pierced (just how many holes does one person need anyway?), disabled, cleavage-bearing, loud, shrieking, crying, sunburned, tired, grumpy, stroller-bound, wheelchair-bound, hungry, thirsty, giggling, puking (okay, I *tried* not to look at them), running, dancing, tripping (I confess...I laughed when I saw that), drunk, obnoxious, rude, sweet, smiling, flirty, scary (I kid you not...there are some pretty frightening folks on the loose), and a host of others I just don't have the time to describe. You get the picture. You would also think four guys in their mid-forties would just blend right in. Right? I mean, it's not like we were dressed alike or wearing doofie-looking hats or holding hands and skipping from ride to ride.
No, we got a few second looks because we were older than most of those who were riding the coasters, plain and simple. In all fairness, I have to admit, when I looked around while waiting to ride Top Thrill Dragster at Cedar Point, I realized I *was* getting older and was now officially somewhere in that Twilight Zone of ages: not quite old enough to sit and watch the others ride but no longer young enough to blend in with the majority of the crowd.
Huh. When did that happen? Right around the time when the first gray hairs started to appear, I guess.
Does that mean I need to slow down? Oh, hell, no. As long as I can ride and not end up puking my corn dog and fries all over the (younger) crowds waiting below (though, that could be fun, too), I'll continue to take my coaster trips. I know the day will come when I'll have to say, "I'm done", but I'm hoping it'll be years away. I'm just having too much fun right now.
If there was a down-side to the whole trip, it was getting *those* looks from the younger people in the parks. You know how it is. You can't help but study people when you stand in those lines (like a herd of cattle being directed through a maze of pens), so you see all kinds of wonderfully different folks and they, in turn, get to see you. Repeatedly.
Tall, short, fat, thin, bald, bearded, tattooed, pierced (just how many holes does one person need anyway?), disabled, cleavage-bearing, loud, shrieking, crying, sunburned, tired, grumpy, stroller-bound, wheelchair-bound, hungry, thirsty, giggling, puking (okay, I *tried* not to look at them), running, dancing, tripping (I confess...I laughed when I saw that), drunk, obnoxious, rude, sweet, smiling, flirty, scary (I kid you not...there are some pretty frightening folks on the loose), and a host of others I just don't have the time to describe. You get the picture. You would also think four guys in their mid-forties would just blend right in. Right? I mean, it's not like we were dressed alike or wearing doofie-looking hats or holding hands and skipping from ride to ride.
No, we got a few second looks because we were older than most of those who were riding the coasters, plain and simple. In all fairness, I have to admit, when I looked around while waiting to ride Top Thrill Dragster at Cedar Point, I realized I *was* getting older and was now officially somewhere in that Twilight Zone of ages: not quite old enough to sit and watch the others ride but no longer young enough to blend in with the majority of the crowd.
Huh. When did that happen? Right around the time when the first gray hairs started to appear, I guess.
Does that mean I need to slow down? Oh, hell, no. As long as I can ride and not end up puking my corn dog and fries all over the (younger) crowds waiting below (though, that could be fun, too), I'll continue to take my coaster trips. I know the day will come when I'll have to say, "I'm done", but I'm hoping it'll be years away. I'm just having too much fun right now.