on waterslides

My feature/commentary (poem?) "On Waterslides" has been published in The Peak. Thanks Peak!

For some reason the intro to the piece, which set it up in a number of ways, was cut from the printed version (as was my excessive italicization and capitalization...though they capitalized "jesus" and "christ", which was quite counterproductive, if you ask me), so like my review from last week's issue, I've reprinted my original below. You can read the "print" version online in .pdf form here (my contribution is on the last page...and you can also read a conspicuously related Peak Speak on page three. Have I started a movement?).

Anyway, here it is:

On Waterslides

Waterslides: big windy cocks that shoot us out like cumshots of joy. Wait, it’s too soon for that. I need a soft opening...

Waterslides: bullet chambers that fire us deep into the chest cavity of joy. Much better. Ok, now that we have a common image going, let’s get sliding!

First: The Ascent. This is always the worst part for me, what with my fear of heights. I suppose it doesn’t make sense to fear climbing when what you’re really afraid of is falling. But the truth is, if I ever did fall I doubt I’d be afraid. I’m pretty sure this makes me strange. Like airplanes, how everyone is afraid of flying in them even though they’re more likely to die on the way home from the airport - the steering wheel of their station wagon impaling their chest cavity and all that blood spurting on the windshield - because at least then it was probably their own damn fault. At least then they can believe they could have swerved out of the way, y’know, if they tried really hard. Me, I’m the opposite. Being in a plane, hell, that’s when I finally relax, push my chair back that extra two degrees, read over the movie schedule in that crappy little magazine, and buckle and unbuckle my belt a few hundred times. But cars, jesus, those things scare me to death. I still have my “N” and I’m not going back to get rid of it - you hear that, multiple passengers in my motor vehicle, I’M NOT GOING BACK! I failed the test twice because I kept speeding in a playground zone. Why is every side of Mundy Park a playground zone when there’s only a playground on one side of it (and ever since they took out that giant wooden pyramid, a shitty one at that)!? Now that pyramid, that was a blessing. When you climbed up the middle to use the slide, you couldn’t see how high you were. It was a fear-free zone. And once you got to the top, you were already on the way back down, which was the easy part. Of course, I had to go along with the other boys and try to climb the outside of the pyramid. Soiled a few pairs of underpants doing that. It was a stupid idea - it was dangerous and the pyramid wasn’t built for it so the wood would get all mushy and deteriorate - but our parents never said anything. Strangely enough, the damn thing fell apart. Now there’s no point in going there, so I have no clue why they need a playground zone! I suppose there’s still a chance a kid might come by, and hitting a kid would suck. I’d much rather fall out of the sky and land on a kid. Then I could blame my parachute or the fucker that pushed me out of the plane. And it would be sort of magical, how the kid broke my fall and sacrificed himself to save me and all. But if I slipped climbing the stairs to a waterslide and landed on a kid, geez, I can see the headline now: CLUMSY CLIMBER CRUSHES KID’S CHEST CAVITY. It’s enough to get a guy pretty damn nervous. Just put your head down, get to the top and let God and gravity take over.

Second: The Wait. This only applies for popular slides. If you don‘t have to wait in a line at the top of the stairs, then you are on a piss-poor waterslide - go to a new, more reputable, waterpark immediately. The Wait is the best part of the slide, because everyone around you is funny. The little girls are funny because they are squealing and holding their dads’ arm hair. The little boys are funny because they are chattering their teeth and tugging at their crotches. The teenage girls are funny because they are squealing and arching their backs. The teenage boys are funny because they are chattering their muscles in the direction of the girls and tugging their machismo. The adults are, well, just you and the parents, who, when it comes to waterslides, are more life preservers than participants. So it’s you and the kids and the teenagers and the life preservers and that sixteen year old guy who slouches in a deck chair and waves his arm every minute or two. You probably hate him. Most people do. Fucking sixteen year old training-wage-retard gets to decide when you slide. And think about this: after his shift is over, he doesn’t even slide down himself! He walks down the goddamn stairs! Hate him even more now? Not me, I love him for that. He’s living a different dream, a make-six-bucks-for-waving-your-arms-then-get-a-Slurpee-
and-corndog-and-go-download-porn-in-your-parents-basement dream. I’m hear to slide, he’s here to make Slurpee/corndog/porn money. That’s great stuff. Raise the minimum wage, I say! Let him subscribe to some real nasty chatroom shit! Think about the alternative: that guy is sitting there his whole shift just waiting, dying to go down the slide - but the man makes him sit there waving at the squealing, chattering masses. He’s not slouching because he’s dreaming of a Slurpaccino and man-on-man-on-dog action in the back of an abandoned station wagon, he’s slouching because he can’t slide! And there you are sliding over and over again in front of him! You’re rubbing it in, you capitalist prick! So, the next time you see that guy walking down the stairs, tip your metaphorical hat to him (not your real one, those things are BANNED in all reputable waterparks) - he’s totally disengaged so you can, like, totally engage!

Third: The Slide. This part is pretty dull. You don’t move around or anything. It doesn’t last very longer. Much less time than The Ascent and The Wait. In theory you can do spins and shit to mix things up, but these are BANNED in all reputable waterparks.

Fourth: The Splash. I’m willing to bet this is what Jesus felt like when John the Baptist dunked him. A few times I’ve seen birds when I’ve emerged. Usually crows. One time I saw a seagull, which is sort of like a dove. Anyway, my point is that this part is great. You usually slide gently into a shallow pool of water, though sometimes, at the more reputable waterparks, you sort of fall out of the sky into a deep tank. If the waving guy at the top did his job, you shouldn’t land on any kids, but mistakes happen. One time on one of those drop-landing slides, I saw a woman’s bikini top come right off! She sunk to the bottom of the pool, but her top stayed on the surface. Then she came up and was egg-beater swimming with her hands on her boobs, trying to figure out how to grab her top without flashing everyone. She tried sticking her elbow in one of the cups. I looked up at the waving kid to see if he cared, but he was too busy thinking about dog porn. It was a great moment. I’ve heard of people who don’t like The Splash, usually because they don’t like getting water up their noses. These people are insane. Not liking The Splash is like not liking sex. After all, The Splash is the cumshot from the big windy penis that is the slide, and everyone loves cumshots, with the exception, of course, of the women in pornos who don’t end up getting paid because the production company is not reputable. Because for them it’s all about the money. You think they’d be doing that if they weren’t getting paid? I mean, that’s only legal in Belarus, for christ sake! Most people don’t like to think about that - porn stars only working for the money. It ruins the whole illusion. I like it, though - they have their own dream, I have mine, the waving guy has his, and we all move along at the same time. We climb the stairs together. We wait in line together. Then we go down one at a time, bursting out slathered with stupid grins.

That’s how it works.