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Sunday, February 06, 2005

, originally uploaded by slowchildrenatplay.

I'm fairly sure every town has a day or weekend set aside to promote its cultural, historical, and scientific attractions. Sacramento's Free Museum Day was this past Saturday. Now, Sacramento and culture go together like Sacramento and culture, but free is free, and when you've got kids, you jump at these opportunities. Kristine's blog will entertain you with the kids' escapades, cute comments, and pictures of me making orangutan faces, so don't expect it here.

Kristine and I loaded the car with kids, met my sister and niece, and together we headed to the zoo and Fairytale Town/Funderland, which is like a smaller Disneyland...only without rides, attractions, characters, food, and general cleanliness. Parking's pretty much the same, though.

The day WAS educational and entertaining though. Not because I learned about the natural habitat of the lemur or the migration of the flamingo. No, some lame zoo volunteer may have been talking about that, but my group was hypnotized by the hockey-puck mole on the neck of the guy in front of us in line for the reptile house. I didn't know whether to push it or play Plinko, but it was not to be ignored. It was captivatingly disgusting.

At Fairytale Town, we entered the gates under a scary Humpy Dumpty, emphasis on Dump. White Trash Heaven....people kicked out of Nascar events have season tickets for this place. Fairytale Town's lavish grounds are protected by a aqua-blue moat a good 3/4 of an inch deep, with the occasional leaf and cigarette box floating in the mosquito-laden standing water for good measure and ambiance. The kids enjoyed playing on the slides and playgrounds as we enjoyed the culture of what appeared to be Ye Olde Kentucky(circa 1979). We didn't stay long, but I was able to get a King Arthur collectible bottle opener and a crown with mullet attached (like the ones used in the movie about King Jethro III).

The pony rides were a-callin, so we forked over the $3 per kid. As the line apprached the stable, we noticed the "ponies" (might have just been homeless guys covered in bath rugs, but I can't prove it)were actually not thrilled about their roles in the Sacramento entertainment community. Shea took the white pony named Harley(the noose-marks on it's neck were less noticeable), and walked pony through its grueling oval mud track. I can't be sure, but I thought I heard "Dead pony walking" from the distance a few times. Through the pony's sobs of hopelessness and piles of symbolic droppings, we trekked the lap and moved on. The attendant helped Shea off the pony the "cowgirl way", which apparently was the way cowgirls dismounted their manic-depressive animals in the olden days. The attendant made sure the pony was leashed (to reduce the catastrophic risk of the slowest stampede ever) and checked the pony's mouth for hidden cyanide pills.

Wolf-Boy(in the picture above) was just a kid at the park that screamed like a drunk Raider fan but looked like step three of the evolutionary chart. Don't know if more explanation is needed here, but Mach 3 Jr finally has a customer base.

All in all, we all had fun...obviously for different reasons. Mine lead me straight to hell, where White Trash walk me around in ovals while a wolf boy picks at the mole on my neck.

I can pretty much guarantee that that last sentence has never been blogged before.

posted by Shaun at 10:36 PM
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Blogger Random and Odd commented at 9:11 PM~  


You should be a professional writer!

Blogger Sissychong commented at 5:39 AM~  

Great story. Poor pony's though. I say, "Free the ponies"!

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