September 13, 2012
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Pathetic With Fires and Funfairs – March 24, ’09
“I kept a safe distance” … both prudent and understandable … as well as somewhat pathetic.
When faced with the decision to throw highly flamable materials into a bon-fire, there are two (and only TWO) kiinds of people:
1. Those whom watch from a safe distance
2. Those whom throw shovels-full into the flames
Similarly, some folks watch others ride the roller-coaster … trust me. It’s more fun to ride than watch. I would love to see a PIC of you tossing a shovel full in … tell that man of yours to get off his ass and snap that PIC !
- stillnocouchWell, my good friend StillNoCouch’s reply to my last blog got me thinking of old times, and exactly why I’m “somewhat pathetic” when it comes to hot burning stuff, and fast scary stuff. Funnily enough, they both began while going out with the same lad, when I was about 16 or 17. Andy was his name. This was while I was living “oop North” in Bolton, Lancashire. I think the fire incident came first, so I’ll start with that.
For some time, Andy lived in a caravan belonging to a local farmer, Greg. Greg very thoughtfully kitted it out with a little Calor gas cooker for us ~ great!
*Does the Thank You Greg Happy Dance!* So, one afternoon Andy shouts me from the field to put the kettle on for a cuppa. First time the cooker is going to be used! Yayyy! All excited (it doesn’t take much), I filled the kettle, put it on the stove, turned on the gas, lit a match, and….KABOOM!!!!!
The next thing I know I’m engulfed in flame. To this day I don’t quite know what happened, or how. The flame disappeared as quickly as it arrived ~ a matter of a second or two ~ and I was left with no actual burns, but… my eyelashes were slightly shorter than they’d been originally, and I was pulling lumps of hair off my head like black cotton candy. Handfuls of the stuff. I was not a pretty sight, and my parents weren’t too pleased about it either! They never did like Andy… maybe I should have listened to them for once. (He was a bit of a ‘bad lad’, to put it genteely.) I was never too sure about Greg’s prowess with hooking up gas appliances after that either.
The First Fairground Incident.
(image found over at Fred’s BloggerBlog)
So November 5th and Bonfire Night rolled around, and me and Andy headed off for the yearly ‘Bommy Night’ funfair ~ my first!
*Does the Yay It’s Bommy Fair Happy Dance!* Now in Bolton they have a tradition of serving Black Peas in Vinegar at such events, plastic cups of yummy hot goodness to stave off the cold of the November weather. And they were delicious too! I googled it just before starting this to see if the tradition still holds, and by gum, it does! Click here. 
After eating our fill, we decided on the Teacups as our first ride of the night. A carousel~type ride, with teacups around the edge which seated about four people. We ended up sharing a cup with two other people who we’d never met before. The carousel started spinning, slowly at first which was fine ~ I was fair enjoying myself! But with Teacups, every now and again one of the fairground crew will come along to your particular cup and give it a vicious extra swing round, usually in the opposite direction to which the carousel is turning. The first time he did this to us, I felt a lurch in my stomach ~ uh oh. I suddenly wasn’t enjoying myself quite so much. You know what’s coming, right? Yes, you’re right…I figured I’d be fine as long as the fairground guy left our cup alone, but of course, Sod’s Law being Sod’s Law and all that, he was back a few minutes later and WHOOOOSSSHHHH….. around we went, against the grain, at what felt like the speed of light. I can still remember the delicate arc my peas and vinegar formed as they parted company with first my stomach then my mouth and span around in a half circle ~ missing me, but completely splattering both Andy, and the poor buggers who’d ended up sharing our teacup.
Andy never took me to the fair again.
The Second Fairground Incident.
Fast forward a few years and I’m now married to my first husband, Colin. I was in my early 20s and admit that in those days we and our friends did have a dabble with those ‘funny cigarettes’ on occasion. One day me, Colin and a couple of friends decided to spend a day at Alton Towers, one of the most well known theme parks in the UK. To get from the car park to the rides you have to take the Monorail, a lovely journey through the extensive grounds of the park. The four of us were enjoying a shared smoke as we trundled along in our carriage, and when we got out we were followed by a large plume of (to us) sweetly or (to the uninitiated) weird smelling smoke.
We made our way to the famous Corkscrew ride. I was very sensible and took my glasses off, shoving them into my handbag ~ I had visions of them leaving my face behind during one or other of the 360 degree twists that are the main feature of the Corkscrew. I figured my eyes would be closed throughout the ride anyway so it didn’t matter that I was temporarily blind. Good thinking Susan!
The ride itself went without incident. (I’d foregone the Little Chef breakfast that the others enjoyed on the way there ~ memories of Bommy Night and all that). The twists and turns were actually really neat! As the ride slowed to a stop, I heard someone shouting forcefully “Everybody off, Police!”. OMG. They must have followed the smoke plume from the Monorail straight to us! I didn’t stop to think. Still without my glasses and everything a huge blur, I just RAN. I could hear Joy asking what the hell was wrong with me? I shouted back over my shoulder “POLICE!! RUN!!” I didn’t know I could move so fast, and I don’t think I have since. Colin caught me up after a minute or two, shaking with laughter. “Sue… please. Everybody off, P…L…E…A…S…E…“
Ah. Okay. My first experience of waccy baccy paranoia. Oops.
The Third Fairground Incident.
I once visited my (AWOL git of a) brother down south for a couple of weeks, staying with him and his then girlfriend. The army arranged a day out for their soldiers’ wives and girlfriends, and I was allowed to traipse along. The day consisted of tickets to Thorpe Park, another well known theme park in Surrey, which was very ‘water ride’ oriented at the time. The biggest ride was the “Tidal Wave” and me and Nat decided to head for that first, thus giving us plenty of time to dry off for the rest of the day. Plus, water rides are safe and easy, right? Here’s a video clip I found on YouTube of the end of the ride…
Well it was one hairy, hairy experience. That wall of water was so BIG and DENSE I thought I was going to drown, literally. God knows how much water I swallowed. All I knew at the time was that I couldn’t breathe! And I can’t swim! I thought I was going to get thrown out of the boat with the force of it. Luckily I survived. But again, just like after the Corkscrew, I was blind. Eh? After the Corkscrew incident I’d decided not to ever remove my glasses on a ride ever again. But they were definitely not on my face anymore. Oh, great! “Nat, I’ve lost my glasses! Do you see them anywhere?!” No, she didn’t. But then a woman in the seat in front of us turned round as she stood to get out of the boat and asked me “are these yours, love?” My specs had been whacked off by the force of the water and landed in her lap! Talk about relief! I’d envisioned spending the rest of the day sitting in the coach until the day was over and we could head home for my spare pair. I was just glad she hadn’t sat on them!
The next ride on our list was one of those ‘indoor’ rollercoasters, a ‘black hole’ type thing which is endured in pitch blackness. I was absolutely fine heading to the queue, looking forward to it! But… as well as the funny cigarettes, I’d once dropped a tab of LSD a few years earlier during my time with Colin ~ once and once only! I went through a bloody awful bad ‘trip’, the details of which I won’t go into as it still freaks me out a bit even now if I think about it. Suffice to say I was never so stupid again, ever. I suffered a huge panic attack at the time and thought I was losing my mind, and was left for many years afterwards with a tendency to suffer mild attacks whenever I was in a situation where I felt out of control. Wouldn’t you know it….
We entered the blackness of the building, which was lit only by strobe type flashing fluorescent lights in pink and yellow, and started along the walkway to the coaster. The floor moved! From side to side, sort of backwards and forwards too ~ thoroughly stomach churning and disorienting. Out of nowhere, I could feel that familiar lightheadedness, tightening of my throat and quickening of my breathing which signalled the start of a panic attack. Oh just great, that’s all I need right now! I literally couldn’t go a step further… I had to turn tail and leave, pushing past everyone walking towards the ride until I was back in daylight and fresh air. I had to sit and wait for twenty minutes until Nat and the rest of the girls finished in there (I was so jealous, I could hear the screams and laughter from my seat on a nearby fence and cursed ever having thinking that experimenting with drugs was a ‘fun idea’). The other girls didn’t have a clue what was wrong with me. We’d all agreed at the start of the day that anyone who chickened out of a ride would have to do a forfeit of some horribly embarrassing sort. Nat, bless her, told them I had a ‘medical problem’ that I’d ‘forgotten about’ until it hit me, so getting me out of the forfeit. Good old Nat!
A couple of days later there was a report on the news that Thorpe Park had had a fire, and the whole thing had to be evacuated. I’m glad I wasn’t there on that day.
The Final Fairground Incident.
I used to hang around with a couple of gay guys, Gary and Neil, and we took a trip to Blackpool Pleasure Beach to ride on the famous “Pepsi Max Big One”, which at the time was the tallest, fastest coaster in Europe. Here’s a clip of some crazy person in the front seat, capturing the ride. (How I admire that guy!
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As me, Gary and Neil walked along the beach towards the Big One, I was slightly nervous to say the least ~ memories of my little freak at Thorpe Park in my head. That’s the problem with panic attacks ~ you can think yourself into one if you’re not careful. But I was determined to go through with it. I just made Neil, a big strapping lad, sit in my car with me and let Gary go alone, and also made him promise to give me an uppercut to the jaw and knock me out if I started to get at all ‘silly’ and try to climb out of the car once the ride started. Honestly, I was that bad! The climb up that first hill was the longest minute of my life. And then….ZOOOOOOMMMMM!!!!! Down the drop!!!
My eyes were shut tight, my head clamped down to my chest, and my knuckles clenched around the bar (which was wobbly as hell, that didn’t help!). That drop (about 85mph!) was over in a couple of seconds, but the whole ride took a couple of minutes. I spent that time staring at the floor ~ no way I could lift my head! ~ watching the oranges I’d bought earlier jiggling their way out of the bag and rolling around at my feet. I could also see my camera performing a similar manouevre out of my handbag but that was tough ~ if it wanted to go flying out of the car, then it could! No way was I letting go of that bar to try and stop it!
After that initial drop the rest of it wasn’t all that bad, it just threw your head around a lot and I ended up with the Mother of headaches for the rest of the day. But I did it. A couple of days later there was a news report about how a car had gotten stuck at the top of that hill for half an hour, passengers stranded until it was got going again. I’m really glad I wasn’t there then… that punch to the jaw would have been an absolute necessity.
~*~*~*~*~So there you go. Yes, I am ‘somewhat pathetic’ with fires and funfairs, and I know much of that has been because of self~induced idiocy. I’m pleased to say that the panic attack tendency has subsided almost to the point of non~existence… I think the last time was flying over here to visit Shane for the first time in August ’07, once the doors to the plane were shut, the engine revving up and me knowing I was beyond the point of no return for that flight ~ whatever happened was out of my hands. But it wasn’t much. I just had to concentrate very hard on the adverts in the in~flight magazine until we were airborne and then I was fine. And the flight over last year, when I was leaving behind everything I’d known for my entire life in the UK and starting this big adventure in Ohio with Shane ~ no problem at all.
As for fires and explosions, I’m getting better with those too. I could tell you the one about a long length of plastic pipe, a big fire and an empty can of expanding foam… but Shane doesn’t want you guys to be worrying about me… hehehe.
