Our family budget practices have always involved voodoo accounting. Economists define what we’ve been doing for years as “gimmicks used to artificially boost the bottom line by inflating revenue or concealing expenses or both.” We, of course, do both. We inflate our revenue with credit cards and conceal our true costs with payment plans.
So, a few hours outside of Atlanta, when we saw the billboard for Six Flags Over Georgia advertising tickets for only $7, we knew we could make it happen. What better reward after a long day of driving than running through an amusement park at night riding roller coasters. All for the extraordinarily low, fun price of $7.
We could easily conceal the true cost of $420 with voodoo accounting. We’d pay just $7 a month for a year; well, times that by 5 since each of us would need a ticket. So, only $35 a month for a year for a total of $420 for a night of fun. We gave into the voodoo accounting because the $7 would get us a Six Flags Gold membership which would allow us to get into Six Flags parks all over the country which is exactly where we were heading.
Amusement parks hold a special place in our family lore, a marker of manhood. Growing up is measured by so many milestones progressing toward adulthood. In our family, we have added coaster riding to the traditional moments like learning to walk, learning to ride a bike, and learning to swim. But gauging the readiness of our kids to go on these rides at amusement parks has proven difficult through the years.
Our oldest son, Jack, has loved theme parks ever since he got a picture book full of coasters when he was little. He then discovered in his middle boyhood years Roller Coaster Tycoon, a computer game that allowed him to design parks by making landscaping choices and imagining and creating thrill rides.
The trouble came when we, buoyed by our desire to indulge his interest, started buying tickets to amusement parks. Maybe you saw us during these early days circa 2005. We were the family coaxing our crying 7 year-old son onto a ride that plummets him 100 feet for enjoyment. We were the ones using our quiet irritated voices to remind our young son how much we paid to get into the park. With clenched teeth, we said threatening things like, “You better ride EV-E-RY-THING.” We treaded dangerously around shaming him to get him on rides. “Come on,” we said. “Your five year-old sister isn’t afraid to go upside down. Let’s go!”
Jack was always full of bargains when he would beg to visit a park. We made him promise to ride something new to make the ticket price worthwhile. In preparation, he would plan an elaborate walk through the park beginning with the easy rides and building toward the new big ride he was offering as his bargaining chip.
Walking into a park, and there have been many parks, we always began fresh faced and full of energy, racing to find the easy rides; the warm-up rides like the little swings, the carousel, and the bumper cars. As the morning progressed, our son’s promise to ride something daring hovered around him like a black could of impending doom; a haunting shadow from the future slowly turning him anxious and irritable. When we saw the fear rising up in him, our coaxing would begin. “Let’s knock it out before lunch,” we would suggest with friendly, supportive urging. Soon our friendliness would give way to prodding and pushing and by the afternoon we would resort to visible head shaking disappointment and minor threats. “Know this” we would say, “we are NEVER coming back here again if you don’t honor your word and ride something new! Do you know how much money we spent?”
Jack’s pounding heart would want to ride so badly, but his racing mind, so logical, would not allow it. He could not summon the courage to ride something more than the kiddie rides. His desire could not override his fear no matter what we tried. For the record, we did resist forcing him on the ride.
I’ve seen these parents that do get to the point of forcing their kids to ride at the park and I watch without passing judgment because I know from whence this action comes: exorbitant ticket prices, flagging energy nearing exhaustion mid-day in the park, and a belief that your child will actually love the thrill of the ride once they experience it.
We never forced Jack. We really did believe he would love it once he pushed past the fear. We were in the impossible parenting position of trying to figure out how much to cajole a child toward something difficult that they say they really don’t want to do. These roller coaster scenarios would pop up throughout their lives in hot debates over things like whether to play a sport or an instrument, take French V or AP Biology, try out for the school play or audition for the debate team, break up with a boyfriend or leave a toxic friend behind.
Jack was truly afraid to ride, but we all believed he also really wanted to conquer this fear. He wanted to know what it felt like to be on a REAL roller coaster. He felt left out and one-upped when his younger sister started to ride coasters before him. He longed to compare a real experience to what he read about in books and what he built on his computer. So, we did our best to encourage him, to be honest with him, to push him gingerly and yes, sometimes we did push aggressively.
Then, finally when he was 13, he became a man. That’s what he said to us after he rode Intimidator 305 at Kings Dominion with fear and sweaty hands clenched tight to the harness. He rode with watery eyes and a determined heart. He screamed at first with shock on the first drop; then, the scream turned into a whoop of conquering joy by the second drop. He was doing it and he was happy. Exiting the ride, he said “that wasn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be.” This seemed a proper beginning into manhood. And from that ride forward, he never looked back. Any coaster we came across afterwards, including some that dropped over 400 feet, he conquered with pride and joy.
Now our travels almost always include visits to amusement parks: Disneyworld, Carowinds, Six Flags Great Adventure in New Jersey, Cedar Point in Ohio, Disneyland and Six Flags Magic Mountain in California, we have seen them all. And voodoo accounting is still making it possible.
Voodoo accounting! That’s a new one. Loved the tie in with the story! 💕