Saturday, January 23, 2010

As weak as a newborn baby lamb...

I highly recommend, even if people tell you otherwise, to not get stomach flu or food poisoning. It makes for a messy, slow-moving, uncomfortable, achy day, not to mention you can't/shouldn't/won't eat anything more savory than a saltine.

But this got me to thinking, as many of my thoughts these days swing back to amusement park-related memories: have you ever gotten really, stinking, blindingly sick on a ride? This delightful occurrence happened to me back in 1978 at the Old Chicago indoor amusement park (which my Mom hated: "It's like a factory, not an amusement park! Clang, clang, clang. Bah.). I invited my girlfriends Nancy and Linda along with Gregg, who I was quite sweet on, over to this monolithic palace, the day showed such promise. Until, only about a third of the way through, I met up with the English Rotor and it basically planted me in the ground for the rest of the day. I vaguely remember Gregg, who I was quite sweet on, finding it funny at first, but then realizing my pallor was for real -- and refrained from the caustic humor for the rest of the day, speaking in quiet tones, which really wasn't his style. I also recall getting a lollipop to suck on, to alleviate the queasiness.

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