It's like that ride.

Recently I discovered the undisputed truth of life: it's a roller coaster, in every form and shape.

Of course, you are expecting me to go on about some recent trouble that suddenly resolved itself only to wind up in another trouble. This is sometimes the case. Rarely, however, do people refer to "good times" with the whole "roller coaster" analogy. Because, if you enjoy a good roller coaster as much as I do, then you of course know what I mean.

Most recently, I visited the undoubtedly greatest amusement park to ever grace the world, Cedar Point. And I experienced what they call the Top Thrill Dragster, now the second highest roller coaster in the world only to be blocked out by Kingda Ka only by a mere 36 feet (when Top Thrill Dragster eclipsed the Millenium Force, it did so by 110 feet...do the math). It has also been downgraded to the second fastest in the world by a shocking 4 miles per hour (Kingda Ka goes 128...ooooooooo). The statistics show that Top Thrill Dragster is the second highest and second fastest, yes, however it operates almost 50 percent more efficiently than does Kingda Ka...yes that includes the Dragster's most frequent delays.

Numbers aside, the story begins. Peering up at the massive structure, if you ever do see it, you will have to strain your neck. It looks almost too high to be fathomed, too high to be touched, too high over which to go, for that matter. And yet, it stands. You look at it, and you accept the challenge. It goads you on, entices you with its majesty. So, you begin your long treck down the endless winding queues. Along the way, you are most definitely going to observe and eventually meet your fellow riders, whether they stand in front or in back of you. You listen to their conversation, have conversations with your own riding companion, and feel a sort of innate connection. You can't help but wonder with whom you'll be riding. Will it be the loud, fat man eating two hot dogs? Or will it be the beautiful, yet (you know) self-centered dame hanging off of her boyfriend, constantly gracing his mouth with hers? Or might it possibly be the one person, about your age, who seems an awful lot like you? But really, does that even matter? You wait in line for, oh anywhere between an hour and two, though you would swear it took years and years. And finally, FINALLY you stand on the platform, and the gate opens. However, therein lies the rub. For the ride has broken down, a system failure perhaps. No matter, someone will come and fix it. Of course, this takes another half hour, bumping up your anticipation to its fullest. Finally, it is fixed, and you lower yourself into the seat. You strap yourself in and prepare for what you know will be the ride of your life. The whole track appears before your eyes and you see on what you are about to embark. Though many have gone before, you know that your journey will be unique. The train starts slowly out of the station (and for those of you unaware, this is a launch coaster). It comes to a small halt just before launch. Sweat drips from your forehead. You grip the handles of your harness tightly. You wait for those lights to signal go. And then you're off, traveling at a speed you will probably only realize once, and you climb the hill slowing a bit, but climbing ever so, and you come to the top, hoping you will make the hill, and you do, and the descent, oh the descent!, is the best part; you float to the bottom and come to a rest. The ride is over, you disembark, but you look back. You look back on that huge structure. You are satisfied, knowing the odds of you getting on again that day are about seven trillion to one. It breaks down again, and it closes for the day. But in the end, you are satisfied.

How's that for a metaphor?