Tuesday, October 28, 2008

Nightmare of an Orthodontist

The setting sun illuminated the harbour, a cool breeze brushed delicate leaves of eucalyptus trees, and a giant maniacal face was consuming people. But we'll get to that later.

 On a beautiful Sunday evening Bob and I explored the northern end of the Harbour Bridge. 

We found a pathway along the coast, and, mindful of stray waves that tried to douse our camera with salt water, we wandered around the rocky path. 

Ferries puttered back and forth on the water and trees proudly showed off their new spring leaves in the breeze. We took a bazillion pictures of the Harbour Bridge.

See . . .  

So it was with a calm, awed state of mind that we turned a corner, and ran into this madness.

Luna Park sits on the northwestern side of the Harbour Bridge and was constructed from chaos in 1912. I imagine the designers sat around an old wooden table in a dark musty room and thought, "Lets build a park for children."
"Jolly good idea there! But how do we stop kids from nagging their parents all year about wanting to come to the park?"
"Well . . . how about, at some point, we remodel the entrance?"
"Yes! We can make a giant head with crazed eyes and a big gaping mouth to swallow kids whole! The children will be so frightened they won't want to come!"

Today, Luna Park lures people through its' gaping mouth with bright lights and smells of cotton candy. Inside, it is pure chaos of screaming children and loud carnival muszak, where prized plush neon toys suicidally hang by their necks over game stalls. Bob and I tried to wander quickly through the park, but kept getting separated by stampedes of kids with sticky blue and pink fingers on cotton-candy induced sugar highs. We decided Luna Park was like toon town on candy-crack. It scared us. 

1 comment:

davidbdavis said...

LMAO!!! Toon Town on Candy-Crack! Love it!