Free Didn't My Skin Used to Fit? by Martha Bolton Page A

continue to rise and set at the same speed every day no matter what. So relax and enjoy.

    I love long walks, especially when taken by people who annoy me.
—Fred Allen

33

Life of the Party
    I used to be the life of the party at amusement parks. I don’t know what happened, but I’m no fun anymore. I know this because everyone else brings home souvenir pictures of themselves on the newest roller coaster ride, right in the middle of the upside-down triple loop. I bring home souvenir pictures of me on one of the stationary animals on the carousel.
    It’s not that I don’t want to ride the roller coaster. I do. I used to ride all those wild rides, but the older I get, the more safety-minded I’ve become. You can get hurt on a roller coaster, for heaven’s sake. Sure, millions ride them every day, and there have been only a few incidences of a person falling out, but it could happen. If I’m riding the roller coaster, I really don’t want to end up in the sky buckets. You have a much better time when you get off the same ride you got on.
    My day at an amusement park usually goes something like this:
    9:00 A.M.—Arrive at park. Discuss renting locker. Everyone convinces me we don’t need one.
    9:15 A.M.—Buy tickets.
    9:30 A.M.—Restroom break
    9:40 A.M.—Pass on virtual reality ride. Afraid shaking might throw my back out.
    9:55 A.M.—Walk by log ride. Decide to pass. Getting wet could give me a chill. Hold jackets and cameras of family and friends (the same ones who said we didn’t need a locker) while they go on log ride.
    10:33 A.M.—Snack break
    11:05 A.M.—Walk by roller coaster. Hold jackets, cameras, and cups of soda of family and friends while they ride roller coaster.
    11:58 A.M.—Lunch break
    12:48 P.M.—Ride train after conductor guarantees in writing that the ride only moves in a forward direction and absolutely no water is involved.
    1:36 P.M.—Restroom break
    2:00 P.M.—Stop at souvenir store. Insert quarter and use the electric foot massage machine. Get a little dizzy, but it’s worth it.
    3:05 P.M.—Walk by spinning teacups. Pass on spinning teacups (I forgot my Dramamine). Hold jackets, cameras, cups of soda, and bags of souve- nirs of family and friends while they ride spinning teacups.
    3:45 P.M.—Restroom break
    4:00 P.M.—See stage show. Try to convince family and friends that it should count as a ride since a slight aftershock hit while we were there, but they don’t buy it.
    6:10 P.M.—Dinner break
    7:35 P.M.—Ride bumper cars
    7:45 P.M.—Still trying to figure out how to get my car to move.
    8:11 P.M.—Restroom break
    8:25 P.M.—Hold jackets, cameras, souvenirs, and doggie bags of friends and family while they ride dinosaur ride. I pass on the ride. (I watched Jurassic Park one too many times.)
    9:30 P.M.—Walk by lockers on our way back to the car. Family and friends remind me how smart we were to not waste our fifty cents on a locker.
    10:45 P.M.—Arrive home. Sit in vibrating recliner. It’s exhilarating, free, and I didn’t even have to wait in line for it.

    To err is human. To forgive is simply not our policy.
—Source unknown

34

Is There a Doctor in the House?
    There’s nothing that’ll make a person feel older than having to deal with a young professional. The older we get, the younger pilots, police officers, lawyers, and doctors look. Especially doctors. I don’t know about you, but I feel uncomfortable going to a doctor who has a Scooby Doo sticker on his residency certificate.
    But regardless of how young he looks, we still see him regularly. Why is this? Because medical care is important to us. It’s important at any age, but it’s especially important as we get older. We’re hoping to hold up, but just as a car needs repairs and replacement parts as it ages, so do our bodies. We could be chugging along fine on our factory-installed original equipment, but after those first one hundred thousand miles or so, things could start to go haywire. Our