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March Twenty Two

3/22/2013

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Quirks

Everybody has their quirks. Some people can’t stand Capri pants. Other people get the chills when they hear opera music. Gregorific has a thing about water parks. 
 
Entertainment parks in general are not great for gregorific’s state of mind. The crowds, the glazed eyes, the outrageous prices, the underwhelming prizes, the hustle and bustle to get on the rides you want, to get a picture with each princess, to get sufficiently scared out of your mind on the scariest ride ever. 

And then the dreaded addition of water: chemically treated, endlessly regurgitated, weirdly-colored water.

I admit it. I’m a bit jaded re the commercialization of fun.

After roughly ten years, gregorific found herself and the whole gregorific crew  (minus dog) at an indoor water park. If I believed in desensitization therapy for phobias, then I would suspect Mr. Gregorific of creating the perfect storm for me. 

But of course, the gang just wanted to laugh while sliding, rafting, leaping over lily pads, bobbing on waves, squealing under sprinklers…you get the picture. They saw nothing beyond the fun. Bless them. Indeed, it is a shame to analyze the fun out of a water park. 

Yet. I see what I see. 

It seems incredible at first: the bells and whistles, house-sized buckets dumping water, the joyful squeals, the eyes wide with awe, the children bouncing on their heels as they wait to experience a peak of excitement unlike they have ever known.  
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But after the initial glare of *wow*, the cracks show. You see a swirling mixture of humanity: never clean, run through the system again and again to lazy rivers and log plummets.

You spy a floating poop. You witness a careless injury. You hear a stressed mother berating her kid for not having enough fun. Or you are that mother. You see a guy teaching his kid to cut in line. The suddenly un-ignorable ugly underside stares right back at you with an insolent smirk. 
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The unnatural tasting, looking, feeling, smelling water, the haggard life guards, the eight dollar hot dog that tastes like  chlorine,  It all screams- This is what you are. 

That's when you're ready to leave. If you're smart, you send a postcard right quick so that after the reality has faded, you can remember a glossy good time. 
 
That’s how I see it,
 ~gregorific

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