What's the Point

It’s all about making memories my mother would say. The memories follow you year to year.  You have to make them where and when you can because you can never go back.  As our car bumped along the highway, I could picture her face.  The kids napped in the back.  My wife’s warm hand in mine, reminded me of my parents.  They always held hands in the car.  As a kid, I thought it was them being mushy.  I never realized until now the hard work that comes with being a good parent.  It’s a job you can’t do alone.



A mile away you could smell the marina air.  It was strong, fishy and made you want to wash your hands to clean off the stench.  The slight breeze circulated the smell as we approached the end of the long pier.  We rounded the corner and looked up through our windows to the glorious sight.  Up, up and then a little bit more we saw what we were seeking.  The marina, the fish, the strong musky atmosphere disappeared as we glanced at the massive roller coasters before us. 

We always arrived at the park a few minutes before it officially opened.  This feat required us to pack the car, a station wagon, the night before.  With the wagon packed and the cooler by the fridge ready to be filled, it was off to a restless night of sleep.  I don’t know how my parents did it, I was always so excited, tossing and turning all night.  Around 6:30 a.m., mom would open our bedroom doors waking us up with a cheery, “rise and shine, sleepyheads, today’s going to be an awesome day.”  Dad would fix a big breakfast; eggs, toast, bacon or sausage, coffee for him and tea for mom.  Before leaving mom would take a look at us and make us go change our clothes.  We thought we were slick by sleeping in our day clothes.  It would save time, we thought.  The creases and wrinkles didn’t bother us, we were kids, what did we care.  Even the faint odor that came from wrestling with the covers all night wasn’t a reason to shower and throw on deodorant.  We had a mission and the mission was Cedar Point.  After breakfast, it was finally time to leave.  We counted off as we entered the family’s four-wheeled companion.

    “Suz”
    “yep
    “John
    “um-hum”
    “Ben”
    “yes, mom”

All the way down the line to Abby, my 9 month old sister.  I had 7 siblings and I was the second oldest at 15.  For the past two years, my friend Ben had come with us.  He called my mom “mom” and spent a majority of his time at our home.  He even would tell people he was my adopted brother.  So it just seemed normal that he was there.  With mom and dad in the car, we fixed the coloring books and crayons for the babies and us older ones tuned everything out with our headsets. 

    “This is going to be so sweet,” Ben and I high-five each other and then slouch down in our seats.


The baby begins to stir in her car seat.  I glance at our kids in the back.  My oldest, Danny, with his punk hair style and dark shades, rocks to his Ipod.  Sam, our fourteen year old daughter, talks with her bff about girly stuff on her cell phone.  I hope she’s not roaming.  Her eyes are closed as they talk about things I’ll never understand.  Julie, our angelic nine year old, looks up and meets my glance in the rear view mirror.  She waves and I wave back.  My wife turns around in her seat and pops the pacifier back into the baby’s mouth.  With all the new gadgets to keep kids busy, the ride is peaceful.

         
Growing up, it was a three hour drive to Cedar Point, if and only if, one of the little ones didn’t have to stop to go to the bathroom.  Stopping along the way usually elicited a few groans from us older kids.  Why couldn’t we have left the babies at home?  They could have stayed with grandma or grandpa.  One year, my dad stopped riding the rides and that was the year the babies started coming.  Although he never said anything, I’m pretty sure it was because he was getting too old.   

Every year at about the halfway point, my mom said the same thing, “we should’ve stayed the night at one of the hotels, then we wouldn’t have had to get up so early.”  It was one of the one-liners she was famous for.  She didn’t expect a response and we never gave her one.  My dad would just look at her, raise an eyebrow and keep on doing whatever it was he was doing. 

         
I glance at my wife.  Her feet are propped up on the dash.  Her sock clad toes wiggling to the beat of the radio. 

I clear my throat, “I was thinking, maybe we should stay at a hotel next year.”

    “um-humm,” she responds without opening her eyes.
    “What do you think about that?”
    “That’s fine, dear, it might be fun.”

Looking past her out the window, I read the highway sign.  “We’re halfway there,” I say to no one in particular.  Flexing my shoulders, I fix my eyes back to the road. 


The car wheels bumped softly along the country road lulling my little sister and brothers to sleep.  My mom softly hummed as she listened to opera on her cassette player.  Dad switched channels between slow jazz and rock and roll.  I could see him in the rear view mirror.  He would have a silly little grin on his face while he nodded his head along to the beat.  Most of the ride, my parents would hold hands, they were mushy like that.  I had already decided marriage was not for me.  I had plans. 

We pulled into Cedar Point just as it opened.  It was important to get there early with so many people.  My parents wanted to get the most of out their money.  The ticket takers in their booths were still drinking their coffee.  Their mechanical voices followed us through the gates, “have a great day”.  How sweet.  We were yards away from the entrance as we clambered out of the car like circus clowns. 

Dad changed the baby’s diaper.  Mom passed out tickets.  Someone grabbed the stroller and supply bag.  Head count, strap the baby in, grab hands and away we go.  We kids bounced along the parking lot anxiously waiting for mom and dad to catch up. 
         

I nudge my wife as we enter the front gates.  “Where’d you put the money for the car ticket?”

    “In the pocket above the visor.”  She takes her feet down and starts to put on her tennis shoes.  Danny notices the gates and taps Sam on the shoulder.  While waiting in line to pay, I look over my shoulder to the back. 

    “Get your stuff gathered up, you guys”.

I roll my window down and greet the person at the booth. 

    “Morning and thank you”.  Her “you too,” follows me as I pull away. 


The morning air near the entrance smelled of fried food.  Elephant ears dusted with powdered sugar.  Corn dogs which try to pretty up something nasty made our stomach juices bubble and our mouths water.  We approached the front entrance.  Our eyes sparkled with excitement as we peeked around the security guard to see inside.  One, two, three we pushed through the turnstile like sheep being corralled.  Dad pushed the stroller through the gate held open by a ticket taker.  Another mechanical voice, “have a great day here at Cedar Point,” was carried away in the breeze.


Just like my dad, I take the baby to change her diaper.  My wife places the tickets in my back pocket.  She slings the baby bag over her shoulder.  Locking the car, we walk the short distance to the gates.  I nod to the ticket taker as I push the stroller through the gate. 

    “Do we have to stay together, mom?”
    “I don’t see why we have to.  You can take Sam and Julie with you and meet us…”  She pulls out the map from the baby bag and opens it up.  Her brow furrows as she scans the map, not too familiar with the layout.  I glance over her shoulder to offer my expert opinion. 

    “We always met in Kiddie Land.”
    “Kiddie Land, Kiddie Land, Kiddie Land, I don’t see it.  Are you sure you used to meet there?”
    “Yea, it was right here,” I jab my finger into the map.  I read the words on the page. 
    “Wait, the map says it’s SnoopyLand, when did they change it to SnoopyLand?”
    “What’d you say dear?”
    “Nothin’ I was talking to myself.”  I wonder if anything else has changed.  I feel a little old. 
    “Okay, let’s meet at SnoopyLand at noon.  We’ll get lunch then.  Stay together guys and be careful.”

As I watch our three head off for the rides, I’m taken back to decades before.


    “Wait, before anyone does anything.”  Mom grabbed dad’s arm and pushed up his sleeve.  “Look at your watches so we can figure out a time to meet.”
    “Here’s mine, am I going with John?” 
    "Yes, Suz, now listen, here are the groups.”
    “Will it be the same groups as last year?”
    “Yes, probably, older kids stick together and younger ones go with us.”
    “Okay then,” I whack Ben and Adam in their arms, then push my older sister aside, “we’re ready.”
    “Ummm…good try, loser,” Suz taunts, “you know mom won’t let you guys run around by yourself, I have to go with you.”  Suz grabs Emily by the hand giving her a tug.  “Come on, you’re a year older so this year you get to go with us.”
    “Oh, cool, is that right mom, am I a big kid this year?”
    “Looks like it Emily, remember to stay with the kids and if you get lost…”
    “I know, I know, find the information desk or go to the rescue center and don’t…”
    “…leave the park with anyone,” mom finished for her.  My sister rolled her eyes, we all knew the drill, but mom had to tell us every year anyway. 
I started to laugh, which caused the back of my head to snap forward as dad slapped me.  One thing about dad, you didn’t fool around when mom was talking. 
    “What do you think babe, meet at the entrance of KiddieLand at 1:30 for lunch?”
    “You boys listening to your mother?”
    “Yes, dad,” Ben, Adam and I acknowledged my dad and I checked my watch.
    “Okay, everyone, have a good time, see you in a little bit.”

Like greyhounds after the rabbit, we take off for the first ride we see. 

         
    “We were exactly the same way.  We couldn’t get to the rides fast enough.”
    “I know John, you seem more excited about this trip than the kids.”
    “Can you blame me, it’s like going back home.  I can’t remember how many times we came here.”

My wife pushes the stroller.  We walk along the fairway looking at the rides.  The smells, the sounds, the rumblings on the ground bring a smile to my face. 
    “It’s not the same, look at that ride.”
    “Where?”
    “That one over there, wow, that looks cool.  The Dragster.”  The ground rumbles beneath our feet.  We watch as the cars zoom up to the top of the monstrous track. Seconds later, the cars plunge to the bottom. 
    “I bet the kids will want to ride that one.”
    “Right,” my wife replies, “I’m thinking you want to ride that one.” 
I shrug my shoulders and take the stroller. 
         
   
    “Wait,” my sister calls out, “wouldn’t it be better to start at the end of the park, that way we know we went on every ride.”
    “Hey, you’re not as stupid as I thought,” Ben, Adam and I start to take off down the walkway.
    “We’re supposed to stay together; I’ll go back and tell mom if you guys don’t go with us.”
    “Fine, but hurry up.”  I offer to give Emily a piggy back ride, since she’s only ten and tends to be slow.
    “Okey dokey,” she says, “let’s go”.
We hurry as fast as kidly possible to the end of the park, my sister’s chin bumping my head every so often.  We reach the Mean Streak and run/walk through the walkway.  For some odd reason no one is lined up for this one.  Sweet!  My sisters climb into the back car and Ben and I take the front.  Adam is odd man out but he doesn’t care, he rides with another little boy, who introduces himself as they fasten their seatbelts.  Talk about a ride, I didn’t remember it being so rough last year.  When the torture is over, we fall out of our seats and sway unsteadily down to the exit. 
    “Oh wow, that sucker hurt, I’m not going on that one again.”  Suz says as we walk on to the next ride.

The Shoot the Rapids was right around the corner.  The line was long and we were impatient so we decided we would go back later.  My sisters decide to go on the Corkscrew while Ben, Adam, and I try the Space Spiral. 

    “Man, that ride’s for sissies, if I wanted to go in a circle, we could go in the backyard on the tire swing,” Ben says as we exit.  “Let’s get the girls and try something else.”
As we round the corner, we spot mom waiting for us at one of the benches. 
    “Hey you guys, I left dad to stay with the babies, so let’s go.”


My wife and I proceed further along the fairway, stopping here and there to look at the rides.  All the rides, the Mantis, the Iron Dragon, the Millennium Force seem more deadly than the rides from my past.  My mom was always the one who rode with us kids.  She would scream and holler just as loud as we would.


My mom grabs Emily’s hand and we all head off toward the Demon Drop. We spent the rest of the morning going up, around, upside down and through tunnels.  My mom took turns riding with each of us and we all screamed together.  At 1:30 we met up with dad, Matt, Josh and Abby at Kiddie Land.  After a bathroom break, we decided to have lunch at Chicken Patio.  My mom was always one to economize, so we bought 3 super size drinks that came with free refills.  She had packed lunch for the little kids, and the rest of us had chicken sandwiches and shared fries. 
After lunch, we proceeded to ride the rest of the rides in the park.  The Corkscrew, the Gemini, The Blue Streak and the Witches Wheel all were on our list.  We even managed to ride them a few times before moving on to another one. 


We meet up with Danny, Sam and Julie.  We eat lunch at Chick-fil-A while they tell us of their adventures. 
    “It was so cool dad, I thought I was gonna pee my pants.”
    “Were you scared,” I inquire.
    “Nah, they had seat belts and everything.  We went on every ride so far.”
I look at my wife, “it’s a good thing we took them out of school, less traffic.”
    “yea, that was a good idea.”
After lunch, we go as a family to the play area.  Enclosed by the fence, the baby is free to walk around.
    “Ummm. Dad, did you put some sunscreen on?”
    “No, Dan, why?”
    “You’re getting kind of red on the neck,” he laughs, “that must be why mom calls you a redneck.”
    “Ha-ha,” I reply, “do you have the sunscreen hun?”
    “Yes, check the baby bag.” 
I slather on some sunscreen thinking how absolutely unmanly this seems, but if I get sun poisoning my wife’ll kill me.  She hates driving.  We lean back against the tree slide as we debate our next move. 
    “It says we can all go on the rides, if one of us stays at the exit.  Then they’ll allow you to go on after the kids, since we have the baby.” 
    “You want to go on rides?” my wife asks.
    “I don’t want to be like my dad, I want to let the kids have fun.”
    “Well, okay, I’m always game.  I thought we were just hanging out together.”
Glancing at my watch, I realize we have seven hours of play time left.  Gathering the kids we pull out the map. 

Several hours and rides later, it’s time to head for home. Walking down the fairway, I realize every bone in my body hurts.  I have a headache and my back aches.  I never had a chance to ask him, but that was probably why dad never went on any rides. 
    “Do we have any Tylenol?”  I start to open the baby bag. 
    “I think there’s some in the bottom.  Do you have a headache?”
    “Yea, just a little one, my head kept banging the seats on those rides.”
    “You didn’t have to go you know.”
    “I know, but I wanted the kids to have fun and I just thought…”
    “It’s not about going on the rides with them, really, it’s just the time together,” my wife points out.
    “My mom used to say the same thing,” I laugh.
I remember my mom on the rides with us, dad with the babies.  He never seemed to mind and we always had fun. 


It’s midnight when we arrive home.  We had left the park earlier than when I was a kid.  My wife carries the baby into the house and places the sleeping one into the crib.  I wake our two oldest children and direct them into the house.  I carry my daughter in to bed and kiss her good night.  Lying next to my wife in bed, we listen to the quiet settling of the house. 
    “You sleepin’ babe?”
    “No, what’s wrong?”
    “Nothing, I just didn’t realize how hard it is to do things as a family.”
    “It’s good you switched jobs, maybe we can do this more often.”
    “Yea, it’s was fun, I hope the kids enjoyed themselves.”
    “I’m glad we went together and I’m sure the kids did.”
    “Mom was right, it’s all about making memories where you can.”
With my wife’s warm hand in mine, I drift off to sleep.