High anxiety

Despite my dangerous obsessions (BMX, motorcycles, skateboarding), I am terrified of roller coasters. When my wife I were first going out (12+ years ago!), she and I, along with another couple, took a trip to Cedar Point, The Roller Coaster Capital of the World, in Ohio. I was not stoked on the idea but didn't have much say in the matter. Before we even entered the park, I was shitting at the idea of riding any of the gigantic rides. I pounded a few beers and was able to numb my nerves enough to sit through a couple of them. I couldn't stay drunk enough to endure them and eventually had a minor breakdown, proclaiming "I can't do this any more" in response to the other 3/4 of the groups' constant insistence on taking every seemingly suicidal plunge. I realize these fears are mostly irrational and certainly a control (or lack thereof) issue. We went back a couple years later and I faired a little better, but I am just not into it. The reason I bring thi s all up is that I was at Cedar Point today, although I only entered the actual park for about ten minutes to look at the shop that will sell the sandals I was meeting with the merchandise buyer about. So weird to think that 12 years into this job I was at Cedar Point for work, but I was. Later on, at a kick ass skate shop in Cleveland, I spotted this bike in the back room--a Huffy Stars and Stripes. The very first bike I ever owned. I paid $33 dollars and some cents for it in 1975 from the True Value in downtown Plainwell. I wish this photo was better so you could see the sweet fade paint job. On the way out, I skated a super fun park that is so militantly "no bikes" that dick skaters there once vibed Davey Coop in the parking lot for working on his bike when we stopped there on our way to Rays...