Riding the Jack Rabbit

Roller Coasters. I once rode them avidly, willingly, daringly.

Once.

I find that as I've grown older, activities I once enjoyed and blindly dove into don't hold the same attraction anymore. Take my recent experience with a roller coaster at an amusement park in Rochester, NY. The Jack Rabbit. Sounds innocent enough.

"C'mon Dad! Let's go." My ten-year-old son grabbed my hand and dragged me to the line.

My heart stuck in my throat.

"Ummm, well," I stammered.

"What's wrong, Dad?"

"Nothing, nothing, " I said, reaching for the small of my back. "Just a little sore."

I managed to temporarily weasel my way out of the line, my son riding with a newly made friend.

Watching my son whip through the turns and ride the wooden swells shamed me into taking a turn.

Below is the Blackberry video of my adventure:

Editor's note:

1) I was not really scared, the unidentified boy trying to allay my fears was play acting.

2) That is not me screaming like a little girl.

3) The abrubt ending of the video is not related to my blackout spell. The attending EMT assured me of this.