8 am: I buy season passes online. A couple of friends told me that they are totally digging Six Flags in Vallejo with their kids. I am anxious about what I am going to do with Malcolm over the summer, so I figure this would give us an easy out during the week. The only theme park we have taken Malcolm to is Disneyland, so the bar is high. Still, Malcolm is not very adventurous, and as long as they have a train, we should be in the clear.
11 am: Rode the train. In spite of the fact that it has a “Thomas The Train” theme, it has all the production values of a trailer park porno. Looking around, that seems to be the norm. The rides don’t have all the bells and whistles that Disneyland has, and the difference is notable. Malcolm doesn’t seem to care that much, even though the ride lasts a pretty pathetic 60 seconds.
11:30 am: Just saw a second toddler stumbling around with a 32 ounce soda and wearing a leash. I understand the comparisons between having children and dogs and all, but I draw the line at the leash. I can’t help but to chuckle, though, at the thought that if you didn’t fill your kid’s gullet with soda all day, you probably wouldn’t need the leash. Just saying.
12 pm: So, the first time it happened, I thought it was just a overly affectionate high school kid, but now I see it is official corporate policy. All of the park employees here give you high fives when getting on and off the rides. This does make the lines a little slower, but I kinda like the personalized touch. I’ll tell you what, though, I sure wouldn’t wanna work here. Having to touch all those sticky, snotty, dirty hands a million times would get seriously gross.
2 pm: We brought our lunches and headed back to the parking lot to eat them. We did this because A) I am cheap and don’t want to pay $8 for a meal for each of us, and B) I try to avoid feeding Malcolm crap if I can avoid it. Don’t get me wrong, I would enjoy nothing more than dining on chicken fingers and funnel cakes all afternoon, but we are at an amusement park. Amusement parks are one of the few places in the world exciting enough to hold a child’s interest all day. Feeding crappy foods and sugar to a kid will only make things worse. I want a sugar crash about as much as I want to wear a tank top, although there are plenty of each around here. I’ll save the funnel cakes for a rainy day at the library.
2:30 pm: On the way back into the park, we are slapped in the face a second time. There is a go kart track by the front gate and they look ridiculously fun. All of us were totally excited on the way in the park, until we got there and found out that they charge extra for the go karts. What the fuck is wrong with Six Flags? Why would you charge to get into the park and then charge more for one of the rides? Malcolm had a total tantrum when we told him we weren’t going to pay the extra $25 for all of us to ride the go karts. Inside, I was having one too. If we have a meltdown every time we enter the park, we are not going to be coming here any more.
2:45 pm. We got Malcolm to ride a roller coaster! He is normally quite a wuss when it comes to thrill rides, but he smiled after he got off. Usually he cries and needs mommy to hug him for ten minutes. High Five!
3:30 pm: I bought some sunglasses here earlier in the day. It was ridiculously bright and I didn’t want to squint all day. Then, I rode a ride called Medusa, which, with all its banks and turns, gave me the sensation of being born, complete with me crying loudly at the end. I was smart enough to take the glasses off my head before getting on the ride, but not smart enough to put them somewhere other than loosely attached to my shirt. That was the shortest period of time I have ever owned an article of clothing. Squinting aint so bad, anyways.
4 pm: I saw a woman in skimpy jean shorts with an eagle tattoo on her thigh. Really? I’m all for tramp stamps above the rear end or a cute butterfly near the foot, but an eagle on the thigh? I can’t imagine why she thought that was a good idea, but I bet crystal meth was involved.
5 pm: They have a parade here! Actually that was too nicely put. Here, their “parade” is a couple of high school kids and their friends in costumes being pulled in a flatbed trailer by a golf cart. The costumed characters waved wildly to passers by, who largely ignored them. The streets aren’t even roped off, allowing us to walk right through the parade. No one even cared. At Disneyland, little girls camped out on both sides of the street and screamed at Ariel and the other princesses’ names during a loud and festive parade. Here, the lousy the six flags mascot (think an old, white Erkel) led a motley crew on a journey that had all the energy of a group of hungover conventioneers on the way to an early morning session on actuarial accounting. Nobody screamed at them, except to get them out of the way to take a picture. Seriously, this is their mascot:
Their motto may as well be Six Flags, creeping you out since 1912. All in all though, it was a pretty fun day. We had some fun on some rides, but mostly just enjoyed a nice family day together, doing something that we normally don’t do. We won’t come here all that often, but there are worse things to do on a weekend than hang out as a family and make fun of kids on leashes and meth heads with bad tattoos. High five.
Tags: paul in public
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That’s a great synopsis! I will keep it in mind when James is old enough to go. I am dying about the meth tattoo!
Just don’t go get one, Lisa. Please.
Last time I was there, my friend (who had a mohawk) did a belly-flop from the top rail into a very shallow duck pond. All for a “brick of shells” (box o’ bullets). That’s the kind of fun Six Flags pulls out of people.
I love gun people…