Thrill ride

WHAT’S SO FUNNY

I hadn’t done much parenting lately so I didn’t struggle when Patti

Jo volunteered us as chaperones for the eighth-grade graduation trip

to Knott’s Berry Farm.

Most of the chaperones drove up on their own, but we volunteered

to go in Bus Two, with about 60 kids whose last names began with

letters G to N. The decibel level in the vehicle was similar to that

in the bus in “Speed” when the passengers found out there was a bomb

on board. After a while you don’t notice it. And then you do again.

Before we left, it was necessary to take roll call, and I’m

ill-equipped for that because my voice, though virile and manly, is

not loud. I never mastered the full-mask projection technique. And if

the kids can’t hear you, they won’t answer “Here,” or “Yeah,” or

“What?”

Fortunately our bus also had a teacher-chaperone, Mr. Cullinan,

the social studies teacher, and he can project. When he yelled for

the kids in the back to sit down, they sat down in Bus One and Bus

Three as well.

Once we got to the park, my instructions were to make myself

available at Lucy’s Lunchbox in Camp Snoopy from 2 to 3 p.m. I was

vague on my other duties beyond a general feeling that I should say

“Cut that out” if I saw any particularly ghastly behavior. Upon

arrival, the kids scattered and Patti Jo and I were on our own.

Knott’s Berry Farm features rides which travel in trajectories you

may recall from your nightmares. They have names like the Supreme

Scream and the Xcelerator. The kids stood in line for these and the

chaperones stood in line for fried chicken.

All in all it was a cheery, benign California crowd. We did see a

boy, about 16, who had shaved all his scalp hair except for two

wispy, purple-tinted evil horns -- the kind of kid who then turns

around and says, “What are you lookin’ at?” But even he had a

friendly expression.

At 5:15, Patti Jo and I followed our group back into bus two,

while the other parents stood and watched. I thought by this time the

kids might be a little tired out; a little quieter and more

introspective on the return trip.

But no.

Back in Laguna, in the Thurston parking lot, there was a crowd

scene before everyone went home. I couldn’t hear very well by then,

but I did make out two questions that were asked over and over --

always in the same tone of awe and deference.

The kids asked each other, “Did you go on the Xcelerator?”

And the parents asked us, “Did you go on the bus?”