Funny how one day all you can think about is the rides at the fair, and then another you are no longer riding rides any more. What is the pinnacle of rides? And when do you start back down? When does a thrill turn into a dizzying discomfort?
You work your way up from being on a merry-go-round with your mom, to being a teenager, on the highest and scariest rides, as far as you can get away from your mom. Then years later, it takes a kid to get you back on a ride again. Around and around.
I think my pinnacle of rides was in eighth grade, on the Tilt-a-Whirl with my best friend Megan. Spinning to the dizzying whirl of disco and strobe lights, squashed together with heads flung backward in hysterical laughter, hopeless against gravity.
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