Another one
of those childhood memories I don’t understand.
There was a
ride at the beach with these little one-seated soapbox derby sized cars that
were electrified to the ceiling for power. The ticket holders would scramble
for a seat behind the wheel for once the juice was fired up you could get fried
if you were standing on the wooden floor. You don’t ask questions in the game
of bumper cars.
The purpose
of the game, so I thought, was to step on the pedal and circle around a median
strip, sort of a race to the finish, but they didn’t tell you this was more
like a NASCAR bump and run event.
The joy of
the ride was running into each other and knock other drivers into the wall
where they are get stuck and can get passed. Some would even turn their cars
around to have head on collusions. This was not driver’s education training as
I remember.
I suppose
this was a training class on how violent people could be against each other
with no reason for the purpose of the ride except to use the cars as weapons
without causing death. At the same time on the B&W screens was roller derby
and wrestling to fan the testosterone and feed the reward of superiority over
another through violence.
Today’s
video games can be channels for destruction and gore without leaving the
bedroom but the physical jostling within a tin toy vehicle being battered by
family and friends teaches lessons that will carry on.
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