Friday, September 5, 2003

Support from the Parentals

Was discussing the trip with my folks the other day, and I mentioned some of the adventurey stuff I was planning.  My mother was oddly supportive of swinging over a canyon and flying through one at great speed, but was more concerned that I wanted to bounce down a hill in a big plastic ball

While I'm not quite certain I've got the cajones for the other two, I think it's a great idea to bounce down a hill in a big plastic ball.  It just seems so phenomenally silly, it has to be experienced. 

It did remind me, though, of a conversation I'd had with my mom once, about a book of Stephen King short stories.  She had me read a story about toy soldiers coming to life and attacking some guy, which she thought was a really cute, fun, not-scary-at-all story, and it COMPLETELY FREAKED ME OUT.  On the other hand, I read the one about the guy who grew some eyeballs on his hand -- which had scared her shitless -- and thought it was pretty fun. 

Now, rationally, I know the odds of toy soldiers coming to life and starting an attack are -- when you get right down to it -- about the same as the odds of waking up one morning with some eyeballs growing on your hand.  That is to say:  zero.  But the toy soldiers played into some bizarre irrational fear of mine, and the hand-growing-eyeballs played into some bizarre irrational fear of hers.  That's the beauty of irrational fears.  They're not, y'know, rational.

So sign me up for the big plastic ball, please.

1 comment:

andreakingme said...

>> sign me up for the big plastic ball, please.

Ohmigod, ohmigod. I knew it. You are out of your head. I had to check that link, though, to see if all it WAS was a ball someone got thrown around in willy-nilly and helter-skelter, and I read about the air cushion. I still think you're out of your head, though.

Man, that would be something to see. I'd pee my panties laughing. I know it.

. . . just playing catch-up here