September 27th, 2005

Tom Lehrer is Smug

(no subject)

Martha was buried today under an oak tree planted by my father 20 years ago. We took turns digging the grave, Dad, mhaille (who'd driven me out to the Valley) and myself. By the way, Cockney accents don't work for gravediggers unless they're wearing dishevelved top hats and shawls. I gave the little cat one last scritch goodbye, wrapped her in a towel, put the towel bundle in the grave and shoveled the dirt back on.

After patting the dirt back down Dad said a few words and then, in true Protestant fashion, we went back inside for coffee.

This, then, is the end of the chapter. There's a blank page before the start of the next chapter, which is often what happens in certain stories.
Tom Lehrer is Smug

(no subject)

The girls at the Metro convenience store offered me a kitten today when they heard about Marf. That's so sweet. I don't think a kitten is in my future for a long time, though. Mr. Abbie does not need a gleeping fuzzball of pure energy orbiting him just yet. However, I realized that his little online writey thing benefits from that second character. He's got some great standalone entries, yes, but the best bits are the ones where he interacts with the other cat.

So it goes.

On the nice side, the Big E last night was a hell of a lot of fun, even if it rained and we got wet and stuff. As usual, the Maine baked potato was delicious, the finnish pancakes from the Massachusetts building were wonderful, and while I didn't get pierogi I did get beer and flatbread pizza from Vermont. mhaille and I rode the KMG Fireball (aka Afterburner) twice in a row, because that ride kicks so much more ass than the Huss Frisbee could ever hope to kick. Most of that ass-kicking comes in the punch the ride pulls in such a small footprint, and also the fact that you can side on a side seat and have one arm just hanging off into the air. It really helps the feeling of being flung into the air without a thought as to where or how you land. Plus the hangtime at the top of the swing is, without a doubt, one of the most delicious moments of hangtime I've ever had on a portable carny ride. As such, the Fireball put the Zamperla Power Surge next door to shame. THANK YOU CONKLIN SHOWS I LOVE YOU.

Conklin seems to have sold its Jungle Fun walkthrough. I can't remember if I knew that already or not, but alphacygni and I were eagerly anticipating the strains of Mancini's Baby Elephant Walk as we roamed the midway. I did get to ride the same portable ride-thru they've had for ages, the compact one with the dip in the middle of the facade, the dark switchbacks behind the bally, and the head-on-stick that pops out at you right at the end. Conklin's dark ride selection this year was weak. They didn't bring the Witch's House, which was the dual-level ride-through when I was a wee sprat. Very sad. We didn't even get the truly gruesome-awesome "Fantasmagoria" or whatever, the import from Italy with the spiral lift at the beginning. I did notice their single-level single-trailer ride is still kicking around, and has been rethemed to "HAUNTED HOUSE." Totally creative.

nathanw was quick to note, however, that Conklin's placement of the log flume water ride next to their Mardi Gras-themed walkthrough was an act of sheer... brilliance. May have been tacky, but it wasn't as tacky as the SHINING ROTATING GLOWING SHIMMERING JESUS CLOCK we saw at the Young Building. I know at least three people on my friends list who would kill for such a delicious piece of kitsch. Sorry, but you're gonna hafta go to the Big E on your own to get that.