Hindsight is 20/20

I took the boys to Fantasy Island this past week. There's nothing like rides and bright lights to make the afternoon complete to a 4 year-old. I remember going to the park around that age.

All I remember is the Cowboy shoot-out. They actually still stage that, though I haven't caught a performance. I did have the misfortune of sitting through the Saloon show, where three youngsters in Western garb dance to a bad Country medley. It actually included the "Achy-Breaky Heart" song, which was my cue to leave.

At the risk of being classist, I felt as though someone had shaken a giant trailer park salt and peper shaker set vigorously over the park. I haven't seen that many withered, tattoed breasts since last year's Buffalo BikeFest.

The proliferation of tattoos on women is going to make for some unsightliness in the nursing homes in about 40-50 years. Bear in mind, those tribal designs on the small of your back are going to make the orderlies giggle like banshees as they wipe your ass.

Enough editorializing. Aside from the unsightliness, and the feeling that any moment you're going to end up feeling like a stunt-double in Deliverance, the park is worth the $8 after 5pm.

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