So we took our oldest grandkids (Noah and
Reese) to Silver Dollar City yesterday. (They
are 11 and 8 respectively. I’m sure Noah
wants to be older, but the fact that he is still 11 saved me about ten bucks on
the admission price. Yea for 11!) We were able to take them because they are on
Spring Break. In fact it was the first
day of spring. But I guess God forgot to
check the calendar—it was 43 degrees with a cold north wind. But we dressed for it. And so did thousands of other people. I couldn’t believe the crowd—long lines for
everything: tickets, roller coasters, and funnel cakes. I understood the roller coasters but funnel
cakes? And trust me on this: most of the
people in those lines did NOT need to be eating funnel cakes. But it’s an amusement park after all; you pay
a king’s ransom to get in and pay a king’s ransom for a funnel cake; so
whatever amuses you most, I guess, you go for it.
But I digress. You know, it’s just a different deal when you
take grandkids to an amusement park. We
took our own kids to amusement parks when they were growing up, and we enjoyed
it. But it’s different when you take
your grandkids. Here’s some of what I
noticed:
Grandkids live in the moment; grandparents
feel the need to reminisce about stuff.
Why did I feel the need to tell Noah and Reese about what Silver Dollar
City looked like when I was a kid? Why
did I feel the need to have them walk across the swinging bridge (which used to
be the entrance to the City)? Why did I
want them to ride the stuff I rode when I was growing up? When I saw a DVD of the four episodes The
Beverly Hillbillies shot there 1967, why did I have to tell them I came one
afternoon and watched them film? They
don’t even know who The Beverly Hillbillies are. So grandparents feel the need to
reminisce. Is it some subconscious
effort to help grandchildren know us better or is it more of a desire for some
deeper connection of our childhood with theirs?
Beats me. All I know is that too
many of my sentences started with, “I remember when ….”
Grandkids get frustrated at long lines
for the rollercoasters; grandparents are just grateful for short lines at the
restrooms. Enough said.
When grandkids get on a ride, they think:
“Man, this is gonna be fun!” When
grandparents get on a ride, they think, “Geez, I hope I don’t get sick, hurt,
or require chiropractic attention when this ride’s over.”
There was one ride Reese wanted
to do but Noah didn’t. It’s called the
Barn Swing. It’s a kind of
double-pendulum deal. They strap you in
tighter than an astronaut. Then the two
arms of the pendulum start swinging in opposite directions until you are
somewhere in the stratosphere looking straight down at earth. (I think the guy who made the record jump
from a plane in the stratosphere used this for his training.) Anyway, I didn’t want to ride it. Noah wouldn’t ride it. Dayna certainly was not going to ride it. But that’s another thing about grandparents:
we’ll do stuff for our grandkids we wouldn’t do for anybody else. So I told Reese I’d ride it with her. That was all Noah needed to give it a
shot too. So the three of us (after a
lengthy wait in line, of course) got on that contraption. Reese was excited. I wanted to get it over with. And Noah was nervous. While we were waiting in line Noah kept
saying to himself, “I’m going to find out if a I’m a man or a mouse.” And once we started going up, up, up, and
looking straight down, down, down, Noah started screaming, “I am not a
man! I am not a man!” When the ride came to a merciful end, the man
next to me who had heard Noah shouting that during the freakier parts of the
ride turned to me and said, “I’m glad he
was saying that,” meaning, “Because if he wasn’t, I would have been.” Reese wanted to ride it again.
Anyway, all in all it was a great
day. We all left the park frostbitten
but no worse for the wear, and we made some shared memories—which, though not
important to grandkids (yet), is very important to grandparents.
The day reminded me of those MasterCard
commercials from a few years ago. (Here
I go reminiscing again.)
But you remember those commercials, don’t you? This would be my version.
4 admission ticket$ to Silver Dollar
City: $276
Three sandwiches, two small salads, and
some chips for lunch: $47
A day with the grandkids at an amusement
park: priceless.
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