Bye Bye Amusement Parks

Summer is chock full of activities and experiences synonymous with heat, ice cream, water, lazy days, playdays, vacay days, outdoorsy days, and amusement parks.

I discovered this week that I reached a new milestone in aging: I am too old for amusement parks.

Early one evening my son, his wife, 7-year-old daughter Lila, and I landed on the Boardwalk in a New Jersey shore town. Every summer my son makes an annual visit to the Boardwalk. There are particular, requisite stops that must be experienced during his yearly visit.

Parking is difficult and expensive near the Boardwalk – $25 in the lot. So my son dropped us off and rode around to find a cheaper spot, which he eventually did. And not too far – three blocks away for $4.50. A bargain!

Meanwhile the rest of us got on the line at our first stop: Manco & Manco Pizza. It doesn’t matter that lines are long, the sun sizzling, my granddaughter impatient, and everyone hungry. This is a fun, once-a-year, must-do experience! 

The line moved slowly but steadily, and once at the head of the line we ordered our pizza to go. The line for a table inside the restaurant was too long and our patience too short.

While waiting for our pizza, my daughter-in-law and Lila wandered next door to the salt water taffy, candy, and toy store. 

I waited for our dinner, and after a 15-minute wait our name was announced, our pizza ready, our driver arrived and Mom and Lila reappeared. We settled on benches and devoured our dinner.

We strolled down the Boardwalk, the kids munching peanut butter concoctions, monkey bread creations, and soft ice cream, while I avoided what I knew would be stomach issues the following morning should I indulge.

The henna store was next on our to-do list. Lila was excited about a design on her hand. Examining all the options took time, but a suitable pattern was chosen, the artist intently completed her job, and we once again walked along the Boardwalk, the crowd seeming to increase as the evening progressed.

Lila could not contain her excitement as we approached the amusement park. We could see the Ferris wheel and roller coaster from miles away as we drove into town. 

The amusement park was the highlight of a 7-year-old’s Boardwalk experience.

And the low point of her grandmother’s Boardwalk encounter.

I am not a Ferris wheel fan, so decided to sit the ride out. I settled on a bench while the rest of my crew went on the ride.

Picture this:

• I sit opposite a ride meant to create anxiety and fright among kids. Ten kids are strapped in and sent reeling up and down. They cry they screech they yell – every one of them, in high-pitched, loud voices that pierce right through my sensitive body.
• Rides are close together and walking paths not exactly spacious, intensifying the noise and crowd levels.
• Wandering crowds pass by – babies in strollers, older siblings, parents, grandparents, and groups of teenagers. They talk, they yell, they cry, they jump. They walk and run, and drive me crazy.
• As twilight descends, the lights from all the rides, game and food kiosks blink incessantly with bright colors and pulsing bulbs. My brain begins to ache.

My crew descend the exit ramp and Dad decides it is time to go home. I offer no resistance, wondering if I can traipse back to the car and collapse before dropping on the ground, drained, begging for amusement park mercy.

Two generations had a great time on their yearly Boardwalk jaunt. The older generation – me – enjoyed the pizza. 

When we got home my body crumpled into bed, only to rise once during the night to ingest two extra-strength Tylenol tablets for my splitting headache. But I was fine the next morning.

Hub did not join us for this excursion. He was the smart one. I promised to take him for a leisurely stroll on the Boardwalk on a weekday in September when crowds dwindled and the weather remained warm but not scorching. We would avoid the amusement park, probably closed after Labor Day as the young tykes return to school.

Families are fun, their visit a wonderful interval, but next year I will send them to the amusement park sans me.