When I was a kid Kansas City was a different place, and like every other city in our country times have changed. We almost seemed innocent back then, even though someone who came up in the 50's or 60's probably thought we were as wrong as a Catholic Cardinal at a Cub Scout jamboree. While we were guilty of self medicating as a pastime, horrific fashion sense, bad hair, zipless, meaningless, and death free sex, and 80's music, remember Boston or KC and the Sunshine Band, at least we had our priorities straight.
My first car was a 1966 Galaxie, I paid 150 bucks for it. I earned that money by running the Rocko Plane ride at Fairyland Amusement Park, no homo on the Fairyland thing, not that there is anything wrong with that. Fairyland for those of you too young to remember, was located at 75th and Prospect. It was the Worlds O Fun of its day. Sal Brancato one of the owners was a good friend of my Uncle Jimmy Ray, and gave me a job. I was 16, already a dyed in the wool pot head, so putting me in charge of a Ferris Wheel type contraption probably wasn't prudent. My career as a Carny was short lived, due to a mishap that occurred about 6 weeks in to my tenure.
The Rocko Plane was a Ferris wheel with round cages attached to it. The cages would spin freely, which kept them right side up as the wheel went around. Balance played an integral role in operating this ride. You couldn't have really thin people at one end and heavy people at the other. Imagine a clock, you have two thin people at 12 and two fat people at 6 , the next people also fat need to be put at say 10 or 2. Following me? Well I got confused one night and had too many fatties on one end. Two very large black ladies got on the ride, the mis balanced weight caused the ride to take off before I could close the door and unlock the brake that let the cage roll freely. The result was two large women stuck upside down, in an open cage, about 30 feet in the air. When I got them back down to earth, they refused to accept my apology, and as many free rides as they wanted. They ratted me out to Sal and I got shit canned. But I had managed to save enough to procure the Galaxie 500, so all was well that ended well. I spent the rest of the summer drinking Spanada wine, smoking shitty Mexican weed and nailing Hippie chicks. Life was good.
Fast forward to today. Kids today are either spending their time killing each other over drug turf, or living in the burbs and trying to look like their inner city counterparts. Kids today camp out all night to get the latest i phone or play station. Who the fuck spends the night in a lawn chair so they can be one of the first to get a phone that will be obsolete the next day? If I hear one more white kid from Overland Park say "Yo", or " Know wha Im sayin", I swear to God, I'll throttle the little fucker right on the spot.
I know, I know, I'm getting a little carried away, I'm being a curmudgeon. I sound like some bitter old guy. Well Ive got good cause, I turn 49 on the 20th. Forty fuckin nine. Frankly, I never thought I'd make it, and anyone who knew me is probably equally surprised, and more than a few are disappointed. The thing is I don't FEEL 49. Physically, I look it. I feel as out of touch as a Baptist preacher at the Wakarusa Festival. I don't Get IT anymore, I don't even know what IT is anymore. I'm at the point Ive got to start eating right, quit smoking, cigarettes anyway, I'm going to have to exercise and do all the other shit that qualifies as a semi healthy lifestyle. I'm none to fuckin happy about this revelation. I kind of feel like Fairyland Park in a Worlds of Fun world.
My first car was a 1963 Galaxie that used to be a cop car. Paid $90 for it. I owned it a year and it ran for about 6 months. Not in a row, though. Few days here, few days there. Learned how to patch a muffler with a tin can and some muffler tape.
ReplyDeleteAnd quitcher bitchin about being old. I turn 53 in September. When I was born there were only 48 states, so STFU.
we are gonna have us some birthday lunch around that time. you are only 10 years older than me. ya know what I'm sayin?
ReplyDeleteFond memories of Fairyland Park and the Rock-o-Plane. I also loved the bullet ride. We only got to go once a year for my dad's union picnic and I was devastated when they closed Fairyland and the picnic was moved to Worlds of Fun.
ReplyDeleteI turn 49 on the 26th of this month . . . but I'm tellin' everyone that I'll be 53 in hopes that they'll look at me with disbelief. If they don't, then I'll just cry.
ReplyDeleteI didn't grow up in KC so I didn't know Fairyland, but I work with several African-American women who bitterly recall that blacks were not allowed into Fairyland (I'm guessing this was in the early 1960s) except for the one day a year that was "Colored Day" at the park . . . and then most of them had mamas who wouldn't let them go that day either since they weren't welcome the rest of the time.
Oh, I remember Fairyland well! We couldn't afford it often, though.
ReplyDeleteBy the time you get to be my age (64) you'll be totally numb to that outdated feeling. Time goes so fast now I don't have time to think about how old I am.
Better to turn 49 than not.
ReplyDeleteI turn 59 in a month - never thought I'd be this old and Donna's right - time keeps going faster...
Five years ago, I decided to stop coloring my hair and the roots grew in lighter - not darker. Somehow my hair had turned silver when I wasn't looking! (I blame it on my job.)
As my late mother said during her end of days, "getting old ain't for sissies."
Or as my mother said, the golden years aren't so golden.
ReplyDeleteBut, that's a long ways off for you, MM. In the meantime, have a great many healthy, happy birthdays.