One time when my sister and nephew were visiting me back in Ottawa, we decided to go to the local fair. I had promised my sister that I would take him on all the rides I could stomach because she just wasn’t a ride person. This all ended at the Polar Express.

Carnies are some of the weirdest breed on earth. Our trip on the Polar Express just vindicated that incredibly stereotypical notion. The man operating / repairing / probably assembling this ride looked entirely unqualified as he hopped on the Polar Express while it was moving with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and mimed that he was riding a tubular wave. Ponytail flying in the wind, ash sprinkling over the small children like a fresh layer of snow.

It was then that I decided I would likely not go on another ride. Articles like this one just perpetuate my fears. When I read this today, all I could think about was that day, that moment, when I cursed myself for putting my young nephew on this veritable death trap. Sure, statistically it’ll probably never happen, but do I really want to take that risk?

Rarity or every day occurrence, doesn’t really matter to me. Something that can be set up and torn down in a day just makes me nervous. Add to that the people I see doing the work and you can expect to see me on the sidelines at Playland eating mini donuts.