six flags — Blog

I’ve spent a good portion of the last month feeling nostalgic. I’m nostalgic more for a feeling than for a period of time. Specifically, I find myself pining for the awe and wonder that youths feel when gazing at everyday things that we adults glance over. Awe for nature stales with time, and in its place stands our endless agendas. The act of stepping on an acorn, once an incredible feet, is just a smudge on the shoe. To go back…

I went to an amusement park last weekend. Six Flags Saint Louis. I’ve always liked rollercoasters. This may seem strange to those who know me because I am prone to get intense motion sickness. I’ve puked on a lot of rides over the years. I’ve vomited on my brother enough times that he won’t ride with me anymore. Those who join me at amusement parks either find this to be hilarious or disgusting, or both. If you’ve ridden a rollercoaster with me and I haven’t puked on you, I was probably close. You probably either loved it or hated it, or both.

I don’t know why I keep getting on rollercoasters. I guess I just like being upside down that much. They always throw my insides into disarray, and I keep returning to them regardless.

It was the same last weekend. I arrived at the park and quickly chowed down a funnel cake, then rushed to “The Batman”, a feature rollercoaster at the park. I would describe it as one minute of organ discombobulation. I was already sick halfway through the ride, and was unable to do much for an hour afterward. Damn, it was fast though.

Then my stomach got a little better, and I rushed to another ride, and then another. And finally my stomach had had enough. It had capitulated. “Ride one more damn rollercoaster and I will puke everywhere,” it told me. So that was enough for the day.

Yes, it’s cool being upside down. But the amusement park also taught me that not all nostalgia is good nostalgia. A lot of the magic I experienced as a kid at the park was gone. In its place I saw reality. Overpriced food that makes you feel like crap, hours of waiting in line while amassed by a putrid human stench, games designed to steal your money for prizes that will get thrown away at some point anyways. I guess amusement parks aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.

Not all nostalgia is good. Sometimes it’s okay to grow up and see the truth. I still long for the eyes I once had that could stare enraptured at a simple flower or cloud for hours. But I don’t long for the feeling of being captivated by an amusement park.