Thursday, August 30, 2007

Des Moines, Part Three: Rocket Park

The beast minions had us surrounded. Everywhere we looked the snarling demons and their master, had closed in and were pounding on the outer hatch. Panic set in with my crew, instead of preparing for take-off, they had all started crying and yelling at the monsters. They answered back with snapping jaws and teeth, hungry for our flesh. The rocket began to rock as I made an attempt to start the engines. We all fell to the floor and the screaming came to a fever pitch. Suddenly, all of the sounds outside stopped, as did the rocking. A voice spoke from outside the hatch...

"My turn in the rocket, Cameron!"

"Self-destruct! Everybody down the escape slide!" I ordered.

"Whatever, punk." My brother said as we all evacuated the rocket, blasters in hand. Fighting our way through the hellish army, we looked back and saw my brother and his friends turning our rocket into a club. He yelled gambling and girls were now available at the top of the rocket. Everyone started running for the rocket. Maybe we can get off this planet on the merry-go-round, I thought.

Just another day at Rocket Park.

The actual name of the park is Union Park, but I always called it Rocket Park, because of the enormous rocket slide located at the entrance of the park. It had a long, loading ramp comprised of angled rope walls for climbing, mini-slides, and fenced in sides to prevent injury. However, it was the top of the ramp that was the real draw for all of us. The rocket. I loved that rocket. It was huge and had a blue and yellow top that everyone could see from anywhere in the park. The sides had iron bars and the sprial slide was made of steel, both were scorching hot during the summer. No one cared about that because the burns were a bagde of honor that we could play through pain. For a little while I could escape what awaited us at home and have fun. And pretend.

How many times did I save the Earth? How many times did I save the damsel in distress from the alien hordes led by my brother? How many planets did I explore?

Never enough.

The rocket wasn't the only draw. There was the food. Everyone went to Union Park to grill, meet family and friends, talk and laugh, play loud music and let their children play. It was wonderful, and I will cherish these memories for the rest of my life, as this was one of the few places you could escape the beast outside the park grounds.

I talked to my Mom about this, because I seem to recall having sack lunches there. She told me what I was remembering was the Des Moines Parks and Recreation Department setting up a daycare service at various parks that parents could use on certain days of the month; and they had sack lunches. Bologna sandwiches, a fruit, and a drink. Ice cream, on occasion. To this day, that service is still provided and it brings a grin to my face knowing that another child has this to look forward to. Mom would drop Joe and I off at Union when she had business to deal with. I don't want to know, but I can guess what said business was.

My niece and nephews tell me the rocket is still there in all its glory. Although, they never went to any planets while playing on it. I tell them that they were not playing and shake my head.

And this is a good memory of the town.



Saturday, August 4, 2007

In Which We Discover That You Can Keep A Good Bastard Down

Life has a way of beating us down. When we least expect it, we're walking along, minding our own business and life comes running up from behind and takes a steel pipe to our knees. Shouting as it runs away, 'Kerrigan Bitch!'

Anyway, that's how I feel.

It's been a lousy month and the lousiness continues. Work sucks (my boss gave me the strangest stare yesterday, it can only be described as 'After I've hidden the body, what will I tell everyone?'), home life not going good (my girlfriend apparently thinks gnats are great pets and her son wants to gut me in my "sleep"), and as for my family; well I don't call them because I can only take so much. When I snap I'm going to start with the loud teenagers standing in groups outside the front of Quik Trips, blocking my enterance to buy my cancer. I'm not joking.

So that's why I haven't been here in a while and why you may notice that I've received a fresh batch of sarcasm, with a hint of scorn. Let's list the good shall we?

Tranformers: bad

The Simpsons: great

Crooked Little Vein: Fantastic

After Dark: good, not Murakami's best short work

Comics: good

Smart Ones Dinners: good

Smoking: the only thing keeping several "people" alive

That's pretty much it. Before I forget, I need someone to help me with the pictures I promised you. I pressed all the right buttons to put pictures along with a post I had, but the last button I touched made the screen go black and words in some strange font I had never seen before popped up making out this sentence, 'Feed me your blood, meatsack.' Then my hardrive started to breath, sticking out its CD tray that saliva started dripping from and the whole thing pulsed as if it was a reject from an old Cronenberg film. Yeah, I know. Cool.



A Bastard's Law

I hereby decree that the world will be divided into two kinds of people: Almond Joy or Mounds.

Choose carefully. You spineless, Almond Joy traitors.