When I was about 19 I developed a pretty severe stomach condition. I was in California with some friends and we were making the drive from LA to Magic Mountain. The guys got up early. I was already up having been sick the majority of the evening. After numerous stops due to my condition we arrived at the park. The fellas all went to the coasters after I bid them leave me be under the shade of a large oak tree. I threw up everywhere. Blood.
I had a map of the park and started making my way to the little red cross that was marked upon it. By this time I couldn’t stop and was making my way from bush to trashcan to some guy’s shoe, trying in vain to hold it all in.
I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned and stared into the face of every roadrunner’s nightmare, Willie Coyote. He took me by the hand and led me to the first-aid station. I never had a chance to thank him.
Yesterday I was able to do just that. I supported Willie and his pals at Warner Bros. by going back to Magic Mountain and spending too much money on too little crap. Or maybe it was just enough crap- it’s hard to tell with stuff like that.
While there, I took the opportunity, along with my sister’s boyfriend Spirit, to talk shop with the old Justice League gang. We let them take some pictures with us, had a few laughs and told kids to stay in school. It was awesome.
Later, while riding a little rollercoaster called “X”, Spirit was forced to humble himself by pretending to be scared. He did this to humor Tiffany as well as to protect his secret identity. You understand.