We left Monterey Bay today right after check out and then we made a short trip to Santa Cruz to show Bev the boardwalk and eat some corn dogs.
From now on, I will only eat fresh corn dogs. I hate eating corn dogs that have been sitting under the heat lamp for god knows how long.
My mom use to take us to the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk when we younger and I have some great memories from that place.
We walked past the wooden roller coaster called the, "Big Dipper" , and my mom said, is that ride you made you cry and yes it was.
When I was kid, I feared that roller coaster so much. I remember when we were kids, I waiting in line 2 hours with my brother trying to convince myself that I was going to get on the coaster. I just conquered the, "Little Dipper" , roller coaster earlier and was still feeling pretty juiced. And as we got closer in the line I remember my heart beating fast and then trying to play it off with a tough bravodo like riding the Big Dipper wasn't going to be a big deal. I kept telling myself I could do it but when I saw everyone board the coaster and then watched it shoot off like a pistol into a big dark cavernous hole, I just couldn't do it and thats when I bolted.
Of course now that I'm older, riding the big coaster isn't a bid deal and I wasn't there for roller coaster closure because I did that many years after the fact but damn if that boardwalk doesn't always make me feel like I need to prove something to myself and to the people around me, hence the softball throw carnival game.
I'm sure most of you are familiar with this carnival game, you pay 3$ and get 2 softballs to try and knock out a plastic plate.
If anyone knew me from when I was younger, they would tell you that I use to throw like a limp wristed little bitch, with a non-aerodynamically correct behind the back wrist toss that use to hurt my shoulder from throwing like that. I mean, I could throw but it just didn't right the way I did it.
Who knew there was an art to throwing a baseball?
After years of watching guys throwing a ball, I finally got it down.
So the fact that I was standing there with the single minded task of trying to knock down a plastic plate really wasn't my goal.
I just finally wanted to show my mom and my aunt that I finally know how to throw like a boy.
And yes, I missed the plastic plate(s)completely but I didn't care because now I was so proud of my masculine semi-pro baseball pitch.
I suppose if I wanted to kill the whole experience, I could actually learn aim but then that would take all the fun out of it.
p.s. after re-reading this blog, there is some serious gay sub-text in this blog, haha.