The New Texas Giant roller coaster opened in 2011. You might correctly infer a previous Texas Giant at Six Flags Over Texas. The earlier was a wooden roller coaster that had been in the same spot for nineteen years. Then Six Flags gave it the Rocky Mountain Construction makeover, the sort of conversion from wood to steel track, and changing of layouts, that Kentucky Kingdom's Storm Chaser would later get, and that Cedar Point's Mean Streak is undergoing. It would also be the first ride with an inexplicably slow queue.
Well, the proximate cause was obvious: there was a long stretch, at least a half-hour, when they weren't sending any trains out. We just stood there, occasionally moving up because of people who gave up on the queue, mostly underneath cover. The problem was never clear. I think there was a rumor of some medical problem, presumably worse than just someone vomiting on the ride, circulating to our corner. It seemed to take forever, but we stuck it out, I suppose out of a sense that who knew if it would ever be any less bad? Having only one day to visit a park is a series of bets about what's worth queueing time.
Anyway, it is a fun ride. I felt like I could make out the former wooden coaster's tracks, and it had a lot of satisfying little hops. The trains are styled to your classic late-50s high-finned cars, complete with bull horns on the front car. The station's done to look like Your 60s Garage. Overblown? Sure, but you know? Do too much of something and it starts working again.
Now on to the real operational fiasco of the day. Six Flags Over Texas has Shock Wave, a late-70s coaster whose main gimmick is two loops, which were big things in the late 70s. To freshen it up, they've added a virtual reality component. You can choose to wear goggles that present a movie. This has made the ride, at least for now, extremely popular. We're curious about that and thought, well, why not if the lines allow ride it both ways?
The answer is that the lines don't allow. We first tried to get there and were warned we'd need to get an appointment. We got a paper good for admission to the queue between, I think it was, 6:00 and 6:45, and we found other stuff to amuse us until after 6:00. Part of this was searching for a place that served coffee, which we never found. And then the line ... oooooh, the line. Such a line.
Apparently the virtual reality part is making the ride popular. Apparently. Because whatever else it might do, the virtual reality scheme, goggles that people have to wear, is an operational disaster. We timed it at about seven minutes between unloading one train and dispatching the next. This for a ride that itself lasts two minutes. If it took more than a minute to unload and reload before the virtual reality side I will eat my goggles.
Some of this is the technology's newness. People kept returning goggles because they weren't working. Or they had to have strapping them on explained over and over. This can be reduced as the population gets experienced with the stuff. Some of this is probably inherent to the concept, though. The helmets add another thing that ride operators have to check before sending a train out. You can't just put any pair of goggles in any seat, either; each car needs its own view, lest the video and the train movements not make any sense together. Each pair of goggles has to be taken away and cleaned between uses, so it's not like one durable pair can be left hooked into the cars. (I'm not sure they really need this cleaning, but I'm not going to try arguing against wiping down something that's touched other people's hair.)
We decided to ride virtual reality-free, at least for the first ride. And here's a piece that really galls: we had to wait just as long as if we were getting on the virtual reality ride. There are a couple of train cars reserved for real-reality riders, and a lot of trains went out without them occupied. If there were a separate queue for people willing to forego the movie then great, that capacity could be used and the total queue made at least a bit less awful. But there's not, and so we waited about an hour, gradually lowering our estimate of Six Flags Over Texas's operations skills, and wondering what kind of fiasco the virtual reality component of Cedar Point's Iron Dragon is going to be.
We were able to jump over the last couple of ride cycles, thanks to the ride ops calling people from near the platform who weren't interested in virtual reality up. And the ride itself was nice, pretty good, and with a stretch that runs excitingly close to the ground. That's something that makes any ride feel faster and more trilling. Worth riding? Sure. Worth an hour-plus wait? Absolutely not.
Given the circumstances we didn't go back for a virtual reality ride. Maybe if we're ever brought to Dallas again, on a day that isn't nearly so busy, or if we can do it first thing before the queues have filled up. We'll see.
Trivia: Russia's economy grew at an average 8.8 percent between 1908 and 1914. In the last year it grew 14 percent. Source: The First World War, Hew Strachan.
Currently Reading: Rust: The Longest War, Jonathan Waldman.
The woman was shot once in the thigh with a small entry wound but no exit wound—a stray bullet that struck her while she was walking down the street. In the trauma bay, the surgeons taped a paper clip over the entry wound so they could identify that spot on the X-ray. Goldberg wheeled the monitor over to show me the X-ray image: paper clip and bullet. “Very small,” she said, pointing to the slug, “like a .22.” As so many other patients do, the patient asked the trauma surgeons if they were going to take the bullet out, and the surgeons explained that they fix what the bullet injures, they don’t fix the bullet.
They left the wound open to prevent infection and put a dressing on it. “We’ll probably send her home tonight,” Goldberg said. “Isn’t that awful?”
She meant it as a strictly human thing. There’s no medical reason for a patient to be in a hospital longer than necessary. The point was the ridiculousness of the situation. A woman gets shot through no fault of her own, she comes to the hospital scared, and if she’s OK, Goldberg says, “It’s like, here, take a little Band-Aid.” The woman goes home, and for everyone else in the city, it’s as though the shooting never happened. It changes no policy. It motivates no law. In a perverse way, the more efficiently Goldberg does her job inside the hospital, the more invisible gun violence becomes everywhere else.
— Jason Fagone, “What Bullets Do to Bodies”
Mirrored from Under the Beret.
Another day, another use case: I finally got around to taking Kate's and my old "Restaurants we should try" spreadsheet and turning it into a nice rich Querki Space. I've only just started to flesh out the list of places we have already been, and give them ratings, but if you're interested (or simply want a look at a typical Querki use case), you can find it here on Querki. Being Querki, it's all cross-referenced by restaurant type, neighborhood, and so on. (And I've put the Location in for most of them, so there are automatic Google Map links to show where they are.)
And if anybody would like a site like this themselves, just speak up: I haven't gotten around to turning it into an App yet, but it will only take me a minute or two to do so. Once I do so, it will be quick and easy for you to sign up and set up your own Restaurants Space. (I suspect that this is only interesting to the foodies, but we certainly have friends who like this sort of thing...)
While there's a lot I could post about, doing so won't change much - it would just add to a sea of voices that gets tuned out - or is that "drowned out" - on the regular by the minority, a Sad! state of affairs (I'm still trying to grasp how it's even possible, but yeah, somehow it is).
But after being reminded of this (the Orangado, among other things, boasting he gave the best damn Congressional speech eva!!!1!) I recalled having something to say about that. I watched the entire thing live on TV for however long it took, maybe two hours? Four? Five? It felt that long, because I'm not someone to sit around and watch him because I want to, but because I want to know.
Unlike most people, I'm nearly incapable of misunderstanding him (see word salads that flummox the world getting tossed for yourself) if only because he talks like the neighborhood one side of my family comes from (apparently the poor linguistics jumped the dividing highway more easily than the high incomes ever will - its kinda Sad! what's happened to the other side of Jamaica, Queens) so I figured I might be doing everyone a favor by tuning in, just in case I needed to go and get what he'd said again for other people's sakes.
MM the Trump interpreter, yeah. I get word salad, yo.
So, because mostly I get it, and rarely, if ever, fail to (as awful or completely bs as what I'm "getting" might be/generally is), I wanted to hear what he had to say with my own ears, no interpreting it for me the next morning thankyouverymuch. But no need to worry about word salad: he mostly delivered a canned speech from which he never once deviated nor went off-script. Which tells us a few things:
He can follow - and perform beautifully from - a script (at least, as long as S. Bannon or S. Miller aren't writing it for him. Their speeches would fall flat no matter who delivers them, because no one - except maybe a small subset of his darkest, most extraordinarily cracked followers - wants to hear all that Grim Reaper bullshit, anyhow). Yay!
I mean his performance was lush, it was gorgeous, it would make the showiest Declaration of Independence signer blush with recognition and cry over just how damn good his delivery was. It made some of Bill Clinton's most fiery speeches look like boring little fireside chats. The head Cheeto set a high bar for himself re how to perform, then blew past it and left everyone's expectations in the dust. It was, oh God... *winces as mocking tic comes on* THE GREATEST THE BEST EVER
By contrast, nothing he's said or done in the days before or since his speech has matched a single word he said throughout it. There's only a few ways to go from here:
I think I might feel sorry for his daughter Ivanka. He's manipulating her as cleverly as he tries to manipulate the rest of us, but because she's his daughter there's very little she can do (the rest of us can protest, make jokes, call/write/fax Congress - she has little choice but to keep quiet or lose face by admitting she's been wrong about him - which risks losing her inheritance and winning ostracization from the entire line of Cheetolini products, which I'd imagine she'd never willingly endure).
It seems Ivanka has a very fine line to walk: she can be as honest with him in private as she wants (so she says!) but if his public decisions don't even resemble the promises he's made, there's nothing she can do except shrug and move on - or else risk the loss of all she has at stake.
Luckily for her, she can afford to lose ideological battles with her dad. As a self-employed, rich, white, cis-gendered woman, she gets to skirt 99% of the problems the rest of us can often face: racism, poverty, classism, misogynistic effects upon her career and public persona, lack of health care, lack of reasonable housing choices, lack of reasonable child care choices, lack of equal standing under the law, over-taxation - her money, skin color, and apparent sexual orientation and gender identification confers 99% of the protections she needs but would not otherwise have as a citizen of her father's increasingly racist, ableist, classist, bigoted, elitist United States.
So while her dad might pander to her in private and has done so publicly with one grab-ya-by-the-collar-and-shake-ya-
You can't unbullshit a bullshitter - that's the reality all of us, including Ivanka, will just have to deal with.
What have you seen on my humor blog if it's part of your RSS existence or if you have its LiveJournal or now Dreamwidth feeds on your Friends page? This stuff:
And now let me close up Pinburgh Saturday with mostly backglass art.
Lower playfield of Williams's 1981 Barracora, the body-horror game that will haunt your dreams. The story is that the game was to be called Barracuda but the President of Williams didn't like that association. Note the drop targets match up, as tradition, one target per letter of the name Barracora, except for the 'RR' target on the left side. The story there is that when the Gordian knot of how to match the game title with the number of drop targets was finally settled this way designers said if they'd known they could double up letters like that it would have solved so many problems. (In that time the table layout and the theme were developed often with little cross-talk or planning.)
Yeah, so here's that picture you wanted of the G I Joe team's Lady Jaye riding a bucking pink robot space horse. And the company that'll bring it to you is Gottleib in 1979.
Yeah, so here's that picture you wanted of the the cheery, dopey, plotless days before renewing yourself in the fires of Carousel. And the company that'll bring it to you is Williams in 1979.
Meanwhile from our friends Recel, in Spain: 1977's Space Race. Fine cheery scene that makes you ask: that guy in the center, behind the fallen woman. Is he wearing flesh-colored pants or does he have a long pouch adhering to his naked thigh? Before you say this is obvious remember that it was the 70s and this is a science fiction theme.
Williams's 1979 Stellar Wars reminds us all that we don't have to have an official license to have a good time.
Yeah, so here's that picture you wanted of a shiny silver-mirrory winged centauress mooning the Hal 9000. And the backglass that'll bring it to you? Stern's 1978 Lectronamo.
Another attempted panoramic shot of the banner on the convention center's underpass for the ReplayFX Arcade and Gaming Festival. On the far right is one of the Attack From Mars aliens, just past the big old-fashioned style pop bumper.
Trivia: When the Cincinnati American Association team (we'd call them the Red Sox) moved to their new field in 1882 (and where they'd stay to 1870) a local sportswriter admitted the new location had flooded that spring, but prior to that, not since 1852. It flooded again the following February. Source: Level Playing Fields: How The Groundskeeping Murphy Brothers Shaped Baseball, Peter Morris.
Currently Reading: Rust: The Longest War, Jonathan Waldman.
PS: Reading the Comics, April 22, 2017: Thought There'd Be Some More Last Week Edition but hey, Thursdays, why not one of these?
Oh! I'm up and so is CF or TC or CP or whichever acronym she chooses to be today. So, she's kind of like David Bowie but with lots of wild howling and earflaps.
A mishna (a couple pages back) taught: if one sells fruit to another, the buyer must accept a certain amount of refuse (a quarter of a kab for every se'ah; I think this is about 10%). If he sold figs, the buyer must accept ten wormy ones for every hundred, and if he sold a cellar of wine the buyer must accept ten pungent casks for every hundred. On today's daf the g'mara discusses the wine cellar -- what case is this? If it is when the seller says "I sell you a cellar of wine" we have a problem, and if it is when he says "I sell you this cellar of wine", we also have a problem. According to a baraita (an oral teaching contemporary with the mishna), if he says "a cellar", he must sell a cellar all of which is good (since the seller gets to choose the cellar). If he said "this cellar" it means the identified cellar, even if all the wine is bad. Either way, it doesn't match our mishna -- so now what? After discussion, I think the g'mara concludes that the baraita is talking about a case where they specified wine "for a dish", meaning good wine that will be used over time (and so has to last a while), while the mishna is just talking about the ordinary case of buying a lot of wine, some of which -- like fruit -- you know is not going to be good. (But it's a little hard to follow and you should consult your rabbi before buying or selling a wine cellar.) (93b mishna, 95a-b g'mara)
While there was much we didn't research about the history of Six Flags Over Texas before we visited --- I failed to check the credits of The Banana Splits and Liddsville to see if there were any sites we might recognize --- there were some things we couldn't help knowing. One was that their carousel is historic. The Silver Star Carousel, now located just past the entrance of the park, was the last carousel built by the renowned William Dentzel.
It's a handsome carousel of course, and it's got two dragon-bearing chariots. Despite its prominent and elevated location it's hard to see. The park has set up a performance stage in front of the carousel, for one. There were shows going on several times through the day, and the ride would close early for the evening concert. But the backdrop for it covers the front of the ride.
As for the ride, well, you know the part where a carousel's accelerated to some speed and it turns around a while? They don't do that so much. It's horribly slow. I didn't time it since I didn't realize it had got up to full speed; I'd estimate it's running something like two rotation per minute. Certainly not more than three. How's somebody supposed to like carousels when they're made disappointing?
The first substantial line we were on was in the Mexico section, on a trabant --- one of those spinning disc type rides --- called El Sombrero. Yes, just like you'd name if you were writing a middling Simpsons episode about a Mexico-themed amusement park. The cars and the center structure of the ride are made up so it looks like a sombrero. Yes, just like you'd do if you were writing the solid joke in a middling Simpson episode about a Mexico-themed amusement park. The ride, it turns out, dates to 1965 and apparently it's a beloved local piece. We get that. A trabant's a good ride anyway, and the theming is delightfully goofy.
The second substantial line we were on was also in the Mexico section. I think. Mexico and Spain blend together in the park, much as they do in white-American-pop-culture imaginations. At least in mine. Anyway, it was a roller coaster, the bobsled coaster La Vibora. That it's a bobsled coaster made us think of Cedar Point's defunct Disaster Transport, and when the ride ended I did quip, ``Welcome to Alaska'' like that ride was supposed to do. It also made me think of Great Adventure's Sarajevo Bobsled and Wikipedia tells me that La Vibora used to be the Sarajevo Bobsled at Six Flags Magic Mountain. (Great Adventure's Sarajevo Bobsled has since moved to Six Flags's unbranded Great Escape, in upstate New York.) As for why the name, well, bobsleds were big in the mid-80s and everybody was wowed by the 1984 Winter Olympics.
La Vibora is very stylishly painted in black, yellow, and red. The half-pipes of the ride give it a very plausible serpentine look. It was the first ride we noticed, as it was just over the fence from our parking lot. And, as I say, the line was long and took it felt like forever to get through, but we couldn't fault operations on this particularly. Bobsled coasters don't have much capacity; their trains can't be too long and can't carry all that many people at once.
Not ridden by us: El Aserradero. It's of historic import, as the first log flume in the world. But it was a busy day at the park, and it was a bright, sunny, hot day, certainly in the mid-80s. The queue for it could not have been anything but impossibly long, and we're not that enthusiastic about log flume rides.
Also not ridden, and a genuine disappointment, in the Texas section: Titan. It's their hypercoaster, 245 feet tall and looking, from photos, like a slightly taller, slightly crazier version of Cedar Point's Magnum XL-200. Apparently it's a particularly crazy ride: its Wikipedia entry says people complain about greyouts or blackouts during the ride, and the ride now heavily brakes at mid-course in order to reduce the helix's extremeness. Sounds wild, doesn't it?
Well, the ride wasn't easy to find. The only path to it, as best we could work out, was a narrow lane behind some food stands, and then down a path through the picnic pavilion. There were sawhorses put across the path and a couple park workers standing guard, turning people away. They didn't explain why Titan was closed, which is normal enough. (I think the only reason park workers will ever tell you why a ride is down is ``someone threw up and they have to clean it''.) They also didn't volunteer when the ride might be running again, which is again normal.
So why was it closed? No idea. Maybe maintenance. Maybe they didn't have enough staff this early in the season to run it, at least not at the volume they'd need for the crowd. Maybe something was going on with the picnic pavilions that needed to be fenced off and that left the roller coaster out.
While wandering around looking for access to this ride we saw a karaoke stage. They had the show slated for just about all day. I haven't seen that at parks before, but I love the idea. Good work on their parts.
We were about to get into some of the really huge waits.
Trivia: In the mid-19th century about 2.2 percent of the French population was Protestant. Four-fifths of them were concentrated in Alsace (Lutherans), in Nîmes and western Provence, and in a narrow crescent from Montpellier to La Rochelle and Poitou (Calvinists). Source: The Discovery of France: A Historical Geography, Graham Robb.
Currently Reading: Shipping Container, Craig Martin.
PS: What Do I Need To Get A B This Semester? (May 2017 Edition), my regular nagging of people to not try to do it all in one test for crying out loud.
Scrapbook papers & elements from the kit Bohemian Breeze
For more information about the designers and their work, see
For those who care about the ongoing horse races: as largely expected, Jon Ossoff didn't win the special election in the Georgia 6th congressional district outright. But he did come first by a pretty wide margin in a crowded field, and they're heading to a runoff. This is turning crazy-expensive, as you'd expect, and the odds I've seen have it pretty close.
As a result, they're on a big fundraising push, and today they're doing a triple match. So if you're inclined to toss a few bucks into these races (which, remember, this is Georgia -- a Democratic win would be quite embarrassing for the Republicans), this is probably a good day to do so.
(Usual caveats apply -- be prepared for followup emails, and use a burner email address if you have one convenient. I wish I didn't have to make this caveat, but both parties are currently convinced that More Emails Are Better...)
[...] the English faculty at Bozeman, informed of their squareness, presented him with a reasonable question: "Does this undefined 'quality' of yours exist in things we observe?" they asked. "Or is it subjective, existing only in the observer?" It was a simple, normal enough question, and there was no hurry for an answer.Now, when I point to a "just" – or an "only", or a "mere", or a "simply", or "but" – and say, "That's a Pirsig's Pejorative Just", you'll know what I mean.
Hah. There was no need for hurry. It was a finisher-offer, a knockdown question, a haymaker, a Saturday-night special – the kind you don't recover from.
Because if Quality exists in the object then you must explain just why scientific instruments are unable to detect it [...] On the other hand, if Quality is subjective, existing only in the observer, then this Quality that you make so much of is just a fancy name for whatever you like. [...] If he accepted the premise that Quality was objective, he was impaled on one horn of the dilemma. If he accepted the other premise that Quality was subjective, he was impaled on the other horn.
[... regarding the first horn, the objective premise] This horn was the mean one. [...line of proposed reasoning...] This answer, if valid, certainly smashed the first horn of the dilemma, and for a while that excited him greatly.
But it turned out to be false. [...]
He turned his attention to the other horn of the dilemma, which showed more promise of refutation. He thought, So Quality is whatever you like? It angered him. The great artists of history – Raphael, Beethoven, Michelangelo – they were all just putting out what people liked. They had no goal other than to titillate the senses in a big way. Was that it? It was angering, and what was most angering about it was that he couldn't see any immediate way to cut it up logically. So he studied the statement carefully, in the same reflective way he always studied things before attacking them.
Then he saw it. He brought out the knife and excised the one word that created the entire angering effect of that sentence. The word was "just." Why should Quality be just what you like? Why should "what you like" be "just"? What did "just" mean in this case? When separated out like this for independent examination it became apparent that "just" in this case didn't mean a damn thing. It was a purely pejorative term, whose logical contribution to the sentence was nil. Now, with that word removed, the sentence became "Quality is what you like," and its meaning was entirely changed. It had become an innocuous truism.
Fascinating article in a recent issue of the Economist: Sacred Spaces explores the implications of how parking works in cities around the world, and calls into question some common assumptions.
It's not just interesting, I find it awfully timely and relevant for life in Somerville these days. I've wound up getting involved with the community over the past year or so, due to the massive building boom happening on our block. The warehouse across the street is being torn down and replaced by a 25-unit condo complex, and that's only one of three projects happening on the block right now. And the universal topic of argument -- the subject of probably half of all the discussion in the community meetings -- is parking.
It's a nasty bit of zero-sum. The builders want as much footprint as possible for their buildings, since that is where the money is; the result is that every one of them is begging for exemptions from the off-street parking requirements, which eat into the land where they could put More Building. And the city is encouraging this: their claim is that, if a unit only has one deeded parking space, it will only be bought by people with one car. After all, once the Green Line extension is completed (inshallah), we'll be within a few blocks of two subway stops, so people won't need cars.
Problem is, there is a lot of magical thinking in this, mostly because it omits the tragedy of the commons that is the on-street parking. This is already nightmarish (our street is narrow and chaotic), and parking permits are effectively free here. I think they're $40/year -- not enough to make anybody really consider whether they need a second car. So if the buyers of that new $600k condo have two cars, and it only comes with one parking space, it's easy to just decide to park on-street. And so the chaos grows.
Anyway -- the article is well worth a read. Among other things, it makes the point that this is a problem that can be solved with economics; the problem is that doing that without getting murdered politically is nearly impossible...
With the milestone --- we believed --- done the rest of the day was one of just enjoying a new amusement park. We hadn't done much research about the park, as we're more interested in being surprised and delighted these days. But we knew some of the basics: the first Six Flags park, originally with sections themed to the six (Western) nations that claimed sovereignty over Texas soil, if you count France as somehow having a claim and if you count the Confederacy as anything but the slaveholding traitors they were. Those themes, those sections, are still present, but they haven't really grown with the park. The French section, for example, looks to be just a theater and restaurant and some history-of-the-park plaques hung in the smoking section. Meanwhile as with all Six Flags park a mock Gotham City is threatening to take over the world. Such happens. The park did feel more strongly themed than Great Adventure; not that there aren't definite areas to Great Adventure, but there are fewer of them (Western, Bicentennial Americana, Gotham City, and No-Longer-Drive-Through Safari).
Six Flags parks have a reputation for lousy operations, for running rides as little and as slowly as possible. The conspiratorial amusement park enthusiast says that's so they can boost sales of line-cutting passes. While it's not unheard-of for big companies to go in for making the customer's experience not-quite-intolerable --- that's what makes airlines so beloved --- I don't believe it in this case. I think it's just the normal modern-capitalist state in which nobody ever has quite the resources they need to do a job right.
Anyway, our early impressions of the park were that operations were pretty good. Even at the start of the day, for example, Judge Roy Scream was already running two trains, staying ahead of ride demand, and loading and unloading without any major wait on the dispatched train. On our next roller coaster, the extremely busy spinning wild mouse Pandemonium ride operators were piping people into and out of cars just as fast as the passengers could move. There was a wait, but it was a steadily moving one, and it's hard to see how they could have done better except to have fewer people in the park.
Things went similarly well on Mister Freeze Reverse Blast. We'd gone into the Gotham City area to ride Six Flags Over Texas's newest roller coaster, Joker, only to learn that it was so new it was still under construction; it's slated to open around the 19th of May. Mister Freeze Reverse Blast caught my interest because of the scenery: there were these old-looking buildings that looked like soft-serve ice cream, reminding me of the older buildings at Great Adventure. We investigated and found, first, that the Gotham City area was well-built; stuff had that mix of styles which real cities enjoy. Second, the old-looking building were made to represent an abandoned Gotham City ice cream factory, one that hosted a shuttle coaster inside. It was attractively built. The indoor ride queue included graffitied walls and I pondered the making of that graffiti. Also whether this was an area of the park where people adding their own graffiti was, at least morally, just fine.
Also the ride queue had a bunch of monitors, mostly showing Looney Tunes cartoons. We couldn't hear them, but that's all right; it turns out I have the soundtrack for pretty much everything they did, 1938 - 1959, memorized.
Mister Freeze Reverse Blast is a shuttle coaster, so that it goes out and back without quite completing a circuit. It also, as the keyword ``revere'' suggests, goes backwards its first half. This is uncommon and unsettling and rather frightfully exciting. And it gave us an approximation to what a rollback on Cedar Point's Top Thrill Dragster must be like.
Then, after a pause for some soda --- Dallas is hot --- and cheese fries we went to the Runaway Mine Train. It turns out it's of historic import, as the first of the popular Mine Train style roller coaster. It was the backup choice for roller coaster 200, in case Judge Roy Scream were down. It would serve as thematic dual to the Cedar Creek Mine Ride at Cedar Point. It's a good ride; it particularly passes through a western-themed house, slowing down so we can take in the diorama. I don't know if it ever had moving figures, but it would have made sense to. It was attractive and delightful, especially in a patch running close to lake level.
And it was my 175th roller coaster.
According to my best counts, with all the qualifications about how difficult it is to count something like that. It's a lesser milestone than bunny_hugger's, and I don't figure to submit it to the American Coaster Enthusiasts, but it is still something to note.
Trivia: The first stereoscopic photographs in the United States were made in 1859 by E Anthony of New York. Source: Wondrous Contrivances: Technology at the Threshold, Merritt Ierley.
Currently Reading: Shipping Container, Craig Martin.
By Thursday night I think I was down for the count on account of allergies/kinda sickish; the rest of the weekend was eventful and good, including finding <user=shadeofnight> for a bit on Friday, brunch with <user=turnberryknkn> and <user=blueeowyn> and C on Saturday, Barry's art exhibition, catching up with Schu and son and the SW waterfront fireworks, and Sunday having a very last minute picnic on the Mall with Eva and Ben and <user=debela> and Exsmof and Jonathan and eventually Schu and Son, then spending the rest of the day with the latter.
A few days later Passover ended and I had a far bigger gathering for pizza and beer; at some point I should write about the different headspaces when there's only a few people and when there's many and it's hard to make sure nobody's feeling alone in a crowd. The latter gathering was also really great and it was good to see everyone, but I also do worry about whether everyone had a good time...
It's now another week later. My weekend this weekend involved Friday acro and Saturday March for Science (kinda) and catching up with <user=velvetine> and Sunday acro . . . and turning my ankle pretty badly at the end of an otherwise awesome day. The ankle's pretty swollen, still, though hasn't been hurting as I've had it almost constantly elevated. It's not been minding short walks. Not sure what this will mean for dancing or acro in the near future, and am kinda annoyed about that...
Time to finally post. I've got links and stuff, but if I don't post this won't post.
Fact: I slept poorly last night. (No particular reason, just restless.) Hence, I am very tired today.
Fact: I am being considerably more productive today than usual.
Theory: this seems to be mostly because I just plain don't have the energy to overthink and doubt my previous decisions, so I'm just building the system as designed.
There is a lesson in here, somewhere...