Memory Jog: I Am NOT Having Fun Here (article) by Karla Dorman, The StormSpinner on AuthorsDen

My twin sister, Karen, and I were talking about things that happened to us when we were younger. The older we're getting, we're discovering that we're doing that more and more. Growing up, in North Central Ohio, was a treat for my twin sister and myself. Especially when it came to carnivals and street fairs...it seemed every month, some amusement company would set up their rides and games and tents for a week or so. I loved carnivals and street fairs. You couldn't keep me away. Anytime one was in town, you'd better believe it, I'd be there. Much to my mother's dismay...I don't know what she was thinking...maybe that I was going to fall in love with a carnie? I was in love, all right...with the rides! Nothing better to me than riding the rides, over and over and over and over again, until I was so dizzy, I couldn't walk a straight line if my life depended on it ("But Officer, I promise I haven't been drinking!"). My favorites were the "Hurricane" and the "Zipper." Big, bad rides...man, you had better not eat for a WEEK before attempting to tame these babies! I am not kidding...one time, I rode the "Hurricane" 22 times in a row...get on, ride, get off; get on, ride, get off; get on, ride, get off...the ride operator told me I should OWN this ride, because I'd spent so much money that day on tickets! I never got sick on the rides. (I do NOW...age will do that kind of thing to you.) I couldn't walk worth a flip, but never tossed my cookies. I was "Queen of the Rides!" My twin sister wasn't quite so brave...she was more like the jester. SORry! She was!! We'd go to ride something. She'd want to watch the ride, to see "what it's gonna do." We'd wait. And wait. AND wait. I'd lose it..."Are we gonna ride or not?" Quietly "Uh-huh." "WHAT?" "Y-yes??" I'd buy the tickets. We'd get in line. I'd ask, "Are you sure you wanna ride?" (Being gallant and all.) "Yes." (You could hear the next thought..."I think.") We'd get in the ride. I'd usually get in first, Karen right behind me...unbeknown to me, she'd keep on going...right out the other side. CHICKEN. There's me, on the ride, strapped in and rarin' to go. "Karen--you ready?" No answer "Karen?? You ready?" No answer "Kaaaren--WHERE ARE YA???" You'd hear this quiet little voice from outside the ride... "I'm gonna watch and see if you survive." Right then and there...they'd kick it up a notch...into hyperspeed... "KAAAAAREEENNNNNAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHIMGONNAKIIIIIIILLLLLLLLYOUUUUUUUUUUUU" Needless to say...Karen usually didn't ride the ride she'd suckered me on. CHICKEN.

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