Chatty,
I had to laugh at your story abut the amusement park. I too, hate rides. They have always scared me to death. As a youngster, I have a really mean cousin named Martin. He and I went on a ferris-wheel. We stopped at the top and he swang that chair and had me screaming my guts out. I've never forgotten that feeling and it upsets me to think of it.

Well, years later, when I met my husband, he took me on a date to a fair. He asked me to ride the wild rabbit with him. I didn't want him to not want to date me anymore, so I said yes. I was almost crying even before the ride started. Well, when we were zooming a billion miles an hour up and down, I reached over and grabbed the knee of his jeans. The cart flew over a big loop and started plunging down. I got a good grip and screamed and pulled his pant-leg. It ripped and when we got off the ride,he was wearing jeans with only 1 1/2 leg material left. He was in shock and guess what? He didn't break up with me, we got married and that was 27 years ago.