Here's the pledge I'm making to myself this weekend: Big boy, get the hell off the grid and stay off, no matter what that entails. What does getting off the grid mean. It means forgetting about every last thing that is my life that doesn't something relate to having fun. I'm piling in my car, pointing toward the east, and once I arrive at Adventureland with my girls, get out and go mad-crazy wild.
I plan to ride the roller coaster and every other ride I can physically get my old bones to possible and do it with a big, fat smile on my face. I plan to stuff my trap with as much grub as possible that's not in the least any bit good for me. I plan to waste copious amounts of money on playing games that I have no shot at winning. I plan to watch my little girl go crazy with giddiness on each and every ride she deserves to climb aboard. I plan to laugh it up with my older daughter as our stomachs drop out on the curves, spills, and 360s we'll expose ourselves to. I plan to coax my wife into engaging in harrowing adventures on the Teacups and live to tell about it.
Maybe more importantly, I don't plan to devote a second to thinking about chicken sandwiches or Chick-Fil-A. I don't plan to spend even a brief moment contemplating gun control laws or the lack thereof. I don't plan to worry about the economy, gas prices, the lingering drought, the unemployment rate, Syria, bills, deadlines, replacing brakes, braces, loans, or anything else that can even be slightly construed as negative. I plan to revel in laughter. I plan to navigate sno cones. I plan to float down water rides. I plan to bask in the sun, come undone, make my family No. 1, and do it all with fun. I'm giving myself a break from political ideologies and the environment and health care and taxes and offshore shelters because truthfully, I need it. I need an escape from reality. I need a fantasy land full of adventure.
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