illustration by Samara Pearlstein
Some people are really big fans of the whole amusement park schtick. Teacup ride? Hell yes. Wave pool full of pee? Endless fun! Rollercoaster? Even more fun, and not vomit-inducing at all!
For me, no thank you: I would rather not be on the rollercoaster at all. I know that it can be very exciting for people, gives ‘em a thrill, gets the ol’ adrenaline flowing and whatnot, I have a basic understanding of the biochemical and psychological theory behind its attractiveness and so on and so forth. For me, it is just too much excitement. I am but a tender gentle soul, prone to bouts of nervousness; no kind of person who should be subjected to the unbearable stimulation of a high-flyin’ rollercoaster.
But this is the state of the Detroit Tigers at this moment. Sweep the Wrong Sox, lose two of three to the freaking Racist Logos, get swept by the Rally Monkeys, and split (thus far) with the Wrong Sox again. The highs are high enough to make the lows seem horribly low and it’s all happening on the edge of a razor-thin coaster rail as we careen headlong into the playoffs, or not the playoffs, depending on how reliably we can keep the little cart on the curve.
Are you vomiting from the excitement and the g-forces yet?