Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

June is approaching, which means only one thing for me: VACATION. That's right. Every year for the first week of June I take a week of vacation to reflect on the last 364 days that has just passed and make plans for the year to come. Why the first week of June you ask? Think about it, I reply.

For Vacation Day #1, my best friend Steph took me to Magic Mountain. This was a huge deal for me on many levels. For starters, I hadn't been to Magic Mountain in 7 years. It's hard to believe that the last time I was on X2 it was still called X. It was like I had graduated and didn't get to see all my old friends like Batman and Riddler. It was like Goliath wasn't down the street anymore to hang out after to school and Viper went off and joined the Army and now is supporting a wife and three kids. Viper . . . that's a sweet name . . . I kinda want a friend named that. But I digress.

Stephanie had taken it upon herself to end my separation with Six Flags and make us reconcile ASAP. As we arrived at the Mountain, we parked in the very first row of parking. To those of you who live under a rock and never go to theme parks, that is a good omen. It means that the Heavens may have shown down upon you and blessed this day as a "minimal wait" day. Nothing sucks more at a theme park then having to wait an hour to ride something like Colossus, because all the badass roller coasters have a two hour minimum wait. Fortunately for us, today was not that day. The most we ever waited in line was 30 minutes, and that was for Tatsu (story to follow).

First through the gate we booked it to X2, because X was my favorite roller coaster and I was interested to see what they changed. If you have never been on this roller coaster, I am here to tell you that it is like a hug from Jesus. The thrill alone is intensity in ten cities. X the original never looked like all that. It could have been the colors that threw people off:

Seriously. It looked like the Pride Parade of roller coasters. But when you get on the ride and realize that you are going backwards, that is your first clue that something has gone a miss. Your next clue is that your seats rotate around. And if that didn't have you a little scared, they hang off the side of the track almost like there is no track at all. In one word, Amazing. In two, Fucking Amazing. This ride is so scary that I can't get half my friends to go on it (there is a 50% chance you reading this now are one of those pussys). You can see my fear that they may have changed the best roller coaster ever.

The good news, they didn't. They just made it less gay and changed the colors. Although they did add in pyrotechnics which is a little gay. It's like the diet coke of gay. Just one calorie, not gay enough. What's real important is that they kept the first drop. The one that makes you want to shit your pants the first time you ride it.

As you go over the first tiny bump, you're laying on your back thinking this may not be that bad. That's when the ride thrusts you over the first bump and flips your cart face down as you plummet 10 stories . . . face first. Oh yeah. Rush and a half. We went twice. It was the perfect beginning and the perfect ending to our day.

After that was a trip down memory lane. It was like catching up with old friends that I haven't spoken to in a long time. Some had moved on to that big theme park in the sky (Flashback, Deja vu, Freefall). Some were under the weather and didn't feel like being social (Superman was closed due to construction of Lex Luthor's Drop of Doom). And one had gone through an identity crisis and changed it's name (Cyclone is now called Apocalypse and has an alien theme now . . . yeah . . . I don't get it either.) I even got to see the theatre where me and a friend shared our first kiss. (sigh) Good times.

Next it was on to Tatsu, or as I like to call it, The Moment Where I Thought I Was Going To Die.

Let me take you back for a second. The year was 1986. Falco was Rocking Amadeus. Slap bracelets were the new craze. Little Topher Huckaby went on Pirates of the Caribbean for the first time . . . and it scared the bejeezus out of me. Who takes a five year old on a dark ride where there is a laughing skull, scary ass pirates, and drop into the pits of hell. Nazis and my parents, that's who. Flash forward to 1998, when that bitch Lesley (I feel I can call her that because of this story) made me go on Supreme Scream. I have a fear of heights (or more accurately, a fear of plummeting to my death), so naturally that's the ride she wants to go on. Her reasoning, "Just try it once, you may like it." There is a lot of things I haven't tried once because I know I won't like them, but I'm under the delusion that this is a family blog and feel that those things are inappropriate (side bar: if you are reading this to your family, I apologize for my language and remind you that I am Irish and it could be a LOT worse.) As she pried my hands from the kung fu grip I had on the rail in line, I knew this was the day I was going to die. When the ride began lifting us so hi I swore I could see up God's robe, tears were pouring out my eyes (see Jason, I can cry). Then came the drop, followed by the most profanities I have ever screamed in a 60 second window, while my arms and legs went flailing about like they were independent from my body. Lesley is no longer allowed to go with me to Knott's Berry Farm. She has lost that privilege.

Which brings us to Tatsu. If you know nothing of this ride, I will now provide you with two visual aids. This is the track:

These are the seats:

You go from a nice seated position, to flipped facing straight down. Awesome right? For someone who has the frame of a linebacker, it is really hard for me to fit into these harnesses that secure you to the ride. I usually have to contort my body into some yoga position just to get on most things. And as we went flying through the air, I became very aware that two tiny locks were the only thing that was holding my massive body into the seat. Now yes, I know this is no different then any other ride, but when you are watching the ground begin to fly towards your face then twist you around, slamming your body into the harness . . . lets just say I had a silent prayer that God didn't make my frame larger then he did.

I will admit something to you, good reader. I did not have the balls to let go of the handrails. Oh yeah. I even contorted myself as much as I could so that the harness locked into one more notch, just in case the first one popped, I had a back up. Call me a pussy, I don't care. I still went on it . . . twice.

The ride that I will not go on again is Green Lanterns: First Flight. Not because it was scary. Because it was the dumbest ride I have been on in years . . . and I've been to Castle Park. This is the track:

That's it. You stand in line for hours, for a ride that lasts 30 seconds tops. Think Flashback meets X. The spinning compartments are a fantastic idea, except for people who are the size of a Sasquatch. Of course I sat on the end that has this weird green arm condom to protect me from sticking my out to the side and getting sliced off. I am all for protection . . . until the ride sent me falling straight down on my head and the arm condom almost dislocated my shoulder.

Just like the Green Lantern movie, the ride was lame and painful.

That's all the time we have for today boys and girls. Tune in tomorrow where I will be giving you the low down on skinny jeans, and why parents who buy them for their children are going to hell. ;-)