in defense of amusement

Bright and breezy, the weather on Wednesday was could not have been more perfect. The day fell squarely between a rare East coast earthquake and an anticipated hurricane; its proximity to extremes made it that much more quietly glorious. It was the last gasp of summer vacation, and we did not celebrate with peach jam preserving, nor with tomato harvesting nor daisy-chain making in a green meadow. People, we went to an amusement park.   

The whole day brought to mind The Sound of Music, another occasion in which I inwardly assumed a too-cool-for-school attitude in anticipation of some good, clean fun only to give way within seconds, forgetting my adolescent resistance and fully embracing how awesome the whole thing was. My mother brought us to that show, and she brought us to Lancaster County's own Dutch Wonderland yesterday. Because she knows I will love it. She pushes through my suspicion of things commonly considered to be Fun, things that people pay lots of money to do in large crowds on hot summer days, and says oh come on Meagan.  

We arrived and got right on the Sky Ride. When we disembarked, we rode a real roller coaster. And a carousel, and a crazy up-and-down ride that made me ill but the children loved, and a monorail in need of a paint job. And then ate our picnic lunch surrounded by all kinds of families in a pretty area just outside the park (the family next to us was Hasidic; the parents looked about my age and had eleven children).

It turns out that my kids, at ages three and six, are totally up for Fun. I was anticipating fights, tantrums, and meltdowns in punishing August heat. We did have one tough twenty minutes, during which both kids fell apart, but that was immediately before lunch so I attribute it more to hunger than bombardment by the relentless evils of an amusement park.

And seriously, Dutch Wonderland is just about the least evil amusement park I can imagine. There's no intense corporate presence, nor mass-marketed crass cartoon characters. Well, Thomas the Tank Engine does feature in a show, but it was so simple and low-tech that it was impossible to be offended. A freckled, tired-looking teenager in a blond wig and pink satin dress wandered the park and all the kids jumped up and down because a real princess was walking in our midst. What a summer job!

Being at an amusement park designed for young children within a two hours' drive from lots of big cities was a lot like my experience at the airport over the Fourth of July weekend. Except my love of country swelled even greater yesterday, because everyone seemed so happy, grinning at their toddlers and watching their big kids on the carousel. The diversity of parents pushing so many double strollers in one place took my breath away! There were disheveled Brooklyn dads in flip flops, Japanese families in matching polo shirts, Long Island glamour-mamas with bejeweled sandals and heavy accents, countless Hasidic families in long dark sleeves, and so many Amish teenaged girls taking their kid brothers and sisters out for the best day ever. I wish you could have seen them with their somber dresses and tightly knotted hair laughing uncontrollably on a roller coaster!

So on the cusp of a new school year that promises many changes in our family, I am all filled up with gratitude: for my mother who insisted on taking us out for some serious Fun, for my kids who kept it together and delighted us with their delight, for my hard-working husband who was home just beginning the new fall semester, and for my country, the kind of place where you can snuggle into a bumper car with your kid and slam into other cars driven by - among others - a teenage girl in a white mesh cap, a bearded man in a yarmulke, a chubby grandma in a sequined t-shirt, and a young Indian mother with shining black hair all in one thrilling 60 second ride. Then you all stumble out laughing on shaky legs, get in line, and do it all over again. What a fine way to say goodbye to summer!