COLUMN: Lagoon is not family fun
“The fun starts here.”
What a load of baloney.
On paper, the theme park, Lagoon, looks like an exciting place to spend a summer day, flying around on thrill rides like The Fire Dragon, Centennial Screamer, Wicked or the dreaded Ladybug Bop.
I usually avoid fine print, but before going to the park I was sure to check advertising for particularly ominous statements like, “Caution: Guest feet may be in peril of detachment on certain rides,” or a statement more directed at someone like me, “Caution: We blatantly and actively discriminate against potential altitudinous guests.”
Perhaps with size 18 feet, I should be more worried about the first statement, but it actually makes the rides sound more fun. It should be a selling point.
Lagoon marketing needs to invest in ways to make the park scarier. Instead of signs simply warning you to keep you arms and legs inside the roller coaster car, they should be more expressive when instructing visitors about the dangers of “having fun.”
Even changing the sign wording to something more like, “Arm waving may result in involuntary amputation or mild extremity pruning on this ride.”
For those who understand the verbiage, I believe the renovated warning sign would deter them from flailing their limbs in excitement on the rides.
For the many Utah residents who are of Hispanic origin, I apologize, but ciruela pasa-ing your brazo probably gets lost in translation.
For those who either can’t handle the big words or are simply illiterate, Lagoon can just nail some old torn-off arms or legs to the sign board. The more extremities posted, the more scary or dangerous the ride.
• Cautious park visitor: “Do you think we should go on this ride?”
• Not-as-cautious park visitor: “Shoot yeah, it’s only a four-armer.”
• Cautious park visitor: “I think I max out on a three-armer.”
• Not-as-cautious park visitor: “Let’s compromise on this other ride, a two-armer with a splash of pinky toes.”
• Hispanic park visitor: “¿Dónde están mis brazos?”
Now that I think about it, the posting of limbs at ride entrances will work not only for folks who can’t read anything, but also for anyone who doesn’t speak English.
Let me pause by explaining that I am not racist and that I like Hispanic people as much as any other people like Americans, Japanese or Ewoks. Despite this disclaimer, I will probably still receive a myriad of angry e-mails I can’t read, so I’ll rephrase my little quip using another nationality I don’t know much about.
For example, the punch line would have been just as effective if I had conjured a muscly, singlet-wearing Norwegian character, named Sven, who might have bloodily exclaimed,
“Hvor er mine armer?”
Basically my first point about Lagoon is that scarier is always better, and that everything sounds funnier after the discovery of online translation Web sites.
More importantly, Lagoon is another entertainment venue in a long list of places that don’t accommodate tall people like me.
“No bueno,” I would have loudly articulated at not being able to fit on many rides a couple weeks ago. But I just discovered that translation site this morning.
It sure isn’t fun trying to wedge into rides built for people of every stature except for those as tall as me or as rotund as Kirstie Alley.
I spent my half my childhood, it seems, adding extra insoles to my shoes at theme parks so that I could magically pass the “You must be taller than this line” test.
Now, unless I schedule an appointment with a bone saw, my life-long goal of being a thrill-ride connoisseur will never materialize.
I was challenged once a few years ago at Six Flags when park personnel had to check me four times at a hanging coaster to see if I passed the “You must be shorter than this line” test.
After spending several minutes locating a stool and then measuring me, they told me I was even with the line and that it was up to me whether I wanted to ride the coaster.
I rode it that day and since have wondered how much better adult life would be with two feet.
Thankfully I didn’t lose mine that day, but at least I got to go on a fun ride.
Lagoon makes me disappointed, mostly because I’m not ready to be the old guy whose theme park fun consists only of a deep-fried turkey leg and going on rides like the Lazy River or the Sky Ride.
And I sure don’t want to be the unlucky one to participate in a fun-filled afternoon as the designated personal belonging caddy for my friends.
So, I implore roller coaster makers around the world to at least cater to tall people like me. Kirstie can lose the weight.
Until changes are made, doors are opened, or I start to shrink, I’ll have to summarize my recent Lagoon experience with four simple words:
“La diversión para aquÃ.”
Garret Wheeler can be contacted via email at wheel@cc.usu.edu.