Temper
Tantrum
I remember back when I was about twelve or thirteen years old, a schoolmate of mine and I one weekend wanted to go to Pontchartrain Beach for the day. For those of you who are not aware, this was New Orleans’ classic 1930’s art deco amusement park that was enjoyed by many generations of kids who grew up here. It had all kinds of great rides like the Wild Maus, the Kooky Kastle, the Music Express, the Haunted House and greatest of all, the Zephyr; an old wooden roller coaster that had one hell of a first drop. It has long since been closed but still holds a huge place in our “ain’t d’ere no more” mentalities. Anyway, we got it into our heads that we were going. We had our own money, but for some reason, my parents told me I couldn’t go. There was no good reason that I could see why not. That started one of the biggest temper tantrums I ever produced. I cried and moaned and begged for what must have been hours. They finally got sick of hearing me, gave in and my dad dropped me and my friend off at Pontchartrain Beach. By then I had such a crying headache I couldn’t even enjoy the rides. Thirty minutes later I was on a pay phone needing to be picked up to be brought home.
I remember back when I was about twelve or thirteen years old, a schoolmate of mine and I one weekend wanted to go to Pontchartrain Beach for the day. For those of you who are not aware, this was New Orleans’ classic 1930’s art deco amusement park that was enjoyed by many generations of kids who grew up here. It had all kinds of great rides like the Wild Maus, the Kooky Kastle, the Music Express, the Haunted House and greatest of all, the Zephyr; an old wooden roller coaster that had one hell of a first drop. It has long since been closed but still holds a huge place in our “ain’t d’ere no more” mentalities. Anyway, we got it into our heads that we were going. We had our own money, but for some reason, my parents told me I couldn’t go. There was no good reason that I could see why not. That started one of the biggest temper tantrums I ever produced. I cried and moaned and begged for what must have been hours. They finally got sick of hearing me, gave in and my dad dropped me and my friend off at Pontchartrain Beach. By then I had such a crying headache I couldn’t even enjoy the rides. Thirty minutes later I was on a pay phone needing to be picked up to be brought home.
