July 25, 2007

-- Yesterday we traveled to Pennsylvania’s Lower Pierogie Belt, and visited Knoebels amusement park. That’s right, there’s no apostrophe in the name, and you’re also supposed to pronounce the K… And don’t blame me, I only report the news. 

The weather was perfect (sensible temps and low humidity), the place wasn’t overly crowded, the cheese fries were especially good, and a splendid time was had by all.

The oldest Secret took along one of his friends, so he’d have someone to accompany him on the stuff I wouldn’t ride even if a gun barrel were pressed against my temple: so-called attractions with catchy names like the Eviscerator, and the Quadriplegic Maker. No thanks. I’ll just be over here on this bench with funnel cake sugar in my hair and eyebrows…

Steve, who lives nearby, also joined us, and I’m fairly confident everyone had a great time.

I sometimes encounter people who feel compelled to dismiss Knoebels for some reason, but we always have a blast there. And I’m no lightweight when it comes to such places, either; I know a thing or two about it. 

Oh, I’ve been to my share of massive amusement parks: Disneyland, Disneyworld, King’s Island, CedarPoint, Six Flags Over My Genitalia, etc. Knoebels, while smaller and older, holds its own, I think.      

The place is over 80 years old, but very well-maintained. Hell, I like the oldness of it; it’s part of the charm. There are sections of that place where you feel like you’ve gone back in time to 1956, or whatever. And that’s right up my alley.

Sure, there’s usually a high concentration of your standard Wal-Mart shoppers in attendance, but it’s not so overpowering on weekdays. They must stay home and watch Maury during the week, I don’t know.

So, if you play your cards right and plan your visits strategically, a day at Knoebels can be very fine indeed. Regardless of what the nattering nabobs of negativity might say.

Two things happened during the day worth noting, one at the bumper cars and the other at the Paratrooper ride.

At the bumper cars (which are kick-ass by the way), some doucheketeer with a white afro and hilarious ZZ Top beard kept driving in the wrong direction. 

I happened to get a picture of him; he’s the guy in the foreground here.

The crusty old cigarettes & bourbon man, who was running the show there, yelled at him through an amplification device at least twice. “You’re going the wrong way!!” he hollered. But the albino Billy Gibbons just kept unleashing bumper car anarchy.

It didn’t take long for the old man to snap. He shut the whole ride down, leaped off his barstool, and told the guy to “get the hell out.”

Then ol’ Beardy got to do the perp walk in front of a bunch of kids. Humiliated, and with every eye upon him, he exited the complex without argument. After the banishment was complete Cigs & Whiskey fired up the ride again, and order was restored.

ZZ Topnotch Douche then walked over to where I was standing, and tried to enlist me as an ally. He mumbled, for my benefit, “It’s the fucking bumper cars… I didn’t know there were so many rules. Christ!” But I didn’t say anything, and he walked away.

A few minutes later some apple dumplin’ fat boy barfed while riding the Paratrooper. My sources tell me he started chugging near the end of the ride, and at least three full rotations occurred before they could get the puke wheel powered-down. In fact, my source collected a little “evidence” on his forearm.

They finally got the ride stopped, and everybody off. Then a gigantic teenager began dumping buckets and buckets of water onto the seat where the ten year old vomit source had been sitting. After the three or four bucketfuls, an older gentleman arrived with a box marked “Bodily Fluids Cleanup Kit.”

You think I’m joking? I am not. He went to town with various sprays and solvents, with an air of cool professionalism, and returned the Paratrooper to its original glory.

Once the “kit” was put away the man turned and made an announcement to the crowd. He said, “We’re going to run this ride empty for a few minutes now, to dry it off. You folks had better back up a little, so you don’t get hit with anything.”

A horrified shriek went up, and people began running in every direction. It was like a freakin’ Godzilla movie in that place. Good stuff. I didn’t stop laughing until we got to the potato pancake stand.

Here are some pictures I snapped during the day, categorized this time for your convenience.

And I’ll get back to the “normal” stuff tomorrow.

See ya then.




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