I love roller coasters. I do. I love being taken for a ride, as one would if they loved roller coasters. I love the thrill of it. It's just a good time. I haven't been on too many roller coasters in my time, though. There's eternally-great Lagoon and i have fond memories of Colossus and the rickety white one. The thrill of that one comes mostly from the fear of death, but hey, a thrill's a thrill. I also recall being a fan of Jet Star II. Why do I remember these things? I don't know. Anyway, and then I spent half a rainy day at a Six Flags once and it was fun but I barely remember anything.
In these parts, the closest and easiest amusement park i can get to is the one at Coney Island and if you've been there, well. It's not exactly "new." And I wouldn't even say it's old, either. It's really old. I haven't been on the roller coaster there though because going on a roller coaster by yourself is lame.
My problem, see, is Sean is deathly afraid of roller coasters. Or, I should say, any kind of ride that is any amount of feet off the ground. (Yeah, riding the bus is a real problem. HAHA. that's a joke. ) The first experience I had with this was when we went on the ferris wheel at Coney Island. Allow me to repeat myself: FERRIS WHEEL. No, it is not as if the ferris wheel spins rapidly around and around and around and all over the place. It's your grandma's ride. It's slow. No turns. Just up.. down...up....down. To his credit, this one is slightly different in that some of the cars are on a little track that, when coming up to the top of the circle, eeever so gently slide and swing a tiny tiny bit. It is a soft gentle slope and Sean FREAKED OUT. It was hilarious. And I marveled at him and his ridiculous fear. Anyway, so I can't go on roller coasters and it's sad. Because I love them. Sacrifices, I tell ya.