It's not the heat - it's the HEAT

Holy shit - it's been HOT around here.

95 degree days - in June - just ain't right. Amy and I pick up the kids from day care everyday, and it's like they've run a marathon. Dirty, sweaty, hungry. This heat is a brutal. It's been like this almost two weeks straight.

Last weekend we went to the local carnival/fest thing. They've been holding it in downtown Downers Grove for years. Typical carnie/corndog stuff - they block off a couple of the main streets, invite a variety of 'vendors' in to set up booths - and, of course, section off a large area for the carnival rides.

How scary are those things, huh?

I'm not talking about "Wheeeeeee!!! This ride is SO scary!! I want to go again" - no sir; I'm talking "Ummm - is that bolt supposed to be THAT loose there?" or "Geee - wouldn't it be horrible if that giant spinning piece of metal containing 20 or 30 humans would break loose and go careening down main street?"

I never thought about that stuff when I was a teenager - I guess I was too obsessed with breasts. Ahh, the innocence of youth.

So Max, our five year old, is all cocky now that he has been on the rides before (last year), so has a good feeling for what is scary and what isn't ("Wheeeeeee! scary"). He has a plan already since he has previously reconnoitered the area - motorcycles, then dump trucks, then dune buggies, then motorcycles again and maybe some more rides, but then COTTON CANDY. ok? OK? ok? Can we go? Can we go NOW? Ok? Howabout now?

This will be the twins' first encounter with the carnival - we're all sooooo excited.

So tour guide Max tells us that the first ride will be (of course) the motorcycles.

Quick aside on the "design" of carnival rides in general, and the motorcycles specifically. I'm sure after many board meetings, brainstorming sessions and design reviews, the engineers who designed these rides have come up with the cheapest to produce, easiest to set-up and tear-down, most maintainable, easily operated 'rides' achievable.

Notice what's missing from those design parameters? Three letters. "F U N". I think the "fun" part of the design was forgotten - or cut from the budget.

On the other hand, I'm the sucker paying $2 per kid, per ride to populate this thing...

So, Max marches right up to the "RIDE OPERATOR", hands in his two tickets - and coaxes his two brothers into the caged area, and up to the motorcycles. Apparently, the choice of a particular flavor of motorcycle is more a matter of finding one with a vacant 'drivers' position, than that of color, chrome, or handlebar style. Lucky for us, there are two 'cycles one-in-front-o- the-other. The boys load up (Wil and Max in front of their respective machines, and Sam sitting in the passenger seat behind Max).


Snap off a few pictures before the "RIDE OPERATOR" presses the green start button - and... we're on our way.

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

Wow - that's annoying. No wonder the "RIDE OPERATOR" looks like he's ready to go off the deep end.

"Hi Sammy!! Hi Wil!! Hi Max!!"

One lap - done (and no, I don't know the lap times of these things. Suffice it to say, the whole ride lasts a little longer than one lap around the track Blackhawk).

Uhoh - Wil is NOT enjoying his first carnival ride.

Wil's parents are now feeling terrible. And we've only just done one lap!

Then, a miracle occurred. The kind-hearted soul running this contraption (previously referred to as "THE RIDE OPERATOR") stopped the ride to let Wil off.

And gave us the two tickets back.

There are still angels walking the earth. This one is named Buddy.



Thanks Buddy