The Wait is Over

Monday, June 28, 2010
The ups and downs of Father's Day

The question of the day is: what's up with Michael Morsch? There was a huge two-week gap between his last blog entries and this one... could it be that his prolific output of hogwash is slowing? Also, his Twitter account has turned into little more than an endless string of links to boring Montgomery Newspapers stories. Come on, sir! Your public (me) demands more!

As it stands now, there is a minimum height requirement to get on an amusement park roller coaster. But the older I get, I think maybe there should be a maximum age limit, one that determines when it is no longer fun to hurtle through the skies strapped to a giant corkscrew.

Now me, I'd be able to figure that out on my own.

It was a wonderful Father’s Day recently with Younger Daughter.

Ah, this appears to be the latest in a long, long line of posts dealing with "I did something the other day that was fun."

And I had the added pleasure of having my mom visit from Illinois on Dad’s Day. The three of us decided to spend the holiday at Hershey Park, which in theory was a nice enough plan.

No - in theory, that's a TERRIBLE plan. Who decided this? What boob decided it would be good for a young girl, her fifty-some father, and his seventy- or eighty-some mother to spend the day at an amusement park?

But the realities were (1) Mom isn’t as young as she used to be and the hills at Hershey Park were challenging for her in the hot weather;

Again, between the three of them, at least ONE should have thought of that.

(2) I’m not as young as I used to be and thrill rides scare me a lot more now than they used to; (3) Younger Daughter is both young and not scared in the least of thrill rides.

To paraphrase Sir Hugo Drax from "Moonraker": That paragraph plods on with the tedious inevitability of an unloved season. You can smell the "joke" a mile off.

So while Mom found benches in the shade on which to rest, Younger Daughter and I tackled a few of the roller coasters . . . under protest from me I might add.

I guess this trip really happened... but WHY would it happen? It seems like everyone is miserable... Grandma on the verge of collapse, Dad complaining about going on rides... why did he agree to go in the first place?

First it was “Great Bear,” which was not all that great but bearable; next it was the “Comet,” which was better than “Cupid,” “Donner” and “Blitzen” combined; and then it “Fahrenheit,” which just may be the last roller coaster I ever ride.

"... then it 'Fahrenheit'?" Spell check didn't catch that one, eh? In typical Morsch fashion, the most interesting part of the article - the features of each roller coaster - are completely glossed over.

If I had a nickel for every time I said, “I don’t think I’m going to like this” while standing in line waiting to get on a roller coaster that day, I would indeed have paid for the admissions of all three of us.

If I had a nickel for every tired old cliche trotted out by Morsch in this post alone... Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't Father's Day like two weeks ago? Why is he just writing about this now?

The thing about “Fahrenheit” is that it has a straight up and straight down feature. The straight up provides one with a view of nothing but blue skies and the feeling of falling over backwards and the straight down is so steep that the lump in one’s throat created by the deep drop is no doubt one’s knotted-up undershorts lodged tightly.

Hint: Jokes aren't funny if they're so poorly written that no one can understand them.

It was all worth it, though, because no matter how many twists and turns of the roller coasters I had to endure, I got to spend the day with my daughter and my mom.

Of course mom died of heat stroke halfway through the day. But the memories will live forever.

And I’ll get on those rides for as many years as I have to just to be able to do that.

"It's no longer fun to go on roller coasters! But I had a lot of fun going on the roller coasters. I'll never go on them again! But I'll go on them forever." Coherence, thy name is Morsch.

Labels: " Outta Leftfield, Hershey Park, Mike Morsch, Montgomery Newspapers

Another odd quotation mark before "Outta Leftfield," meaning that this post, too, will be filed separate from all the others.