I am at an amusement park, standing in front of an enormous roller coaster called "Suicide Ride". I hear the screams and gasps coming from the other riders as the coaster cars fly by overhead. Those exiting the ride have expressions of dazed amusement, and they turn and run back to the entrance to have another go, singing the ride's praises. So I look at the complex scramble of hills, valleys and twists and wonder, "Can I handle this?"
The reviews for the ride have been so phenomenal I figure, why not? So I take the plunge. Right away, I am plunked down into a coaster car shaped like an old Vette. The walls around me display so vividly the atmosphere of the Sunset Strip that I forget the piles of snow at home. I am in L.A. The ride operator smiles wryly, yanks my seatbelt tight and says, "Hang on."
And hang on I do, for the entire, thrilling, ride. Honestly, that first hill takes a long, long time, at least it seems so to me, but then I reach the crest and get just a glimpse of all of the twists and turns coming before I am plunged head-first into a thrill-a-second trip into Johnny Gellis' journey of self-discovery at the hands of Norman Dimond. And what hands they are...
My head is jolted from side to side, my stomach rises and falls, but I can't get enough. I can't wait to see what the last turn will bring, but at the same time, I don't want it to come. The ride's just too damn fun. All good things end, though, so as the brakes squeal to a stop, I reluctantly release my belt and stand on wobbly legs. I follow all the other dazed trippers toward the "EXIT" sign.
Once outside, I think about riding again, just to make sure that there's nothing I missed. Then I glance to my left and see a sign for a new attraction: SUICIDE RIDE 2 - The Fix. Should I try it? Can my over-worked mind stand another psychotic trip with Johnny and Norman? Can my heart take the highs and lows and turns without combusting? Maybe. Maybe not. But it's an addiction now. I turn left and join the line.