Of all the rides I went on, including the backwards warp speed to bon jovi that sent me sent me whipping with jet propulsion into kiff's hip; including the eggbeater that sent us 80 degrees into the air then twisted us around; including the cliffhanger that had us on our stomachs high above the fairground as fireworks exploded...none of those rides scared me as much as the Giant Wheel, where we sat in a rounded disc and were slowly raised into the air, miles above the midway and the teens on dates and the dads with mullets carring the stuffed snake slung over their shoulder like flaccid members.
Nothing was as scary as the Giant Wheel. Vertigo is not the fear of falling, but the fear of that inexplicable, seemingly irresistible urge to jump into the candy-apple air because nothing is strapping you in.
