A Boston Marriage

I went to the fair last weekend.  Coupons for the rides were one dollar each!! You may be thinking that that sounds reasonable?  However, you must factor in that no ride at the fair actually takes one coupon – even kiddie rides are more than one!  It took three tickets to ride the Tilt-a-Whirl.  Four of us got on the ride, so that means we paid twelve dollars for one two minute ride (it might also mean we’re suckers)!  Twelve dollars for a carnie ride??  What the heck?!  Bracelets (unlimited rides, for those not so well-versed in the fair lingo) were $25!  Just a few days ago, I posted an article on this site about how old I don’t feel, and now I am going to age myself and say: in my day.  Here it goes: in my day, a bracelet was $8!  Of course, I never seemed to have $8, so the bracelet was still way outside of my financial grasp.  But now, a family with two kids at the fair would have to shell out fifty bucks for a day of unlimited riding!  Admission for two kids at Canada’s Wonderland is sixty!  I just don’t think the Orono fairground and Canada’s Wonderland – the land of wonder for an entire nation – are on the same amusement level, so why the comparable price?  I looked around at the ride workers and none of them seem to be wearing three-piece suits – not a single Rolex to be seen – so it isn’t a strong Carnie-union driving up the cost of my ticket.  Buzz Hargrove is nowhere in sight.

And then it hits me: insurance.  I am paying three dollars for the Scrambler because of the insurance Upchuck Amusements needs to carry for the inevitable lawsuits that would be filed in cases of injury or accidental death.  Because death is not cheap, people.  The other day on television, I was shocked to learn I currently can’t afford to die.  I need insurance for that.  Apparently, if I step out into traffic and find myself nose to grill with a parcel delivery van, it won’t be my life that flashes before my eyes, but a calm and admonishing voice droning on in my ears explaining the death benefits insurance I needed so as not to leave my family with the crippling costs of a funeral in Canada.

If John Lennon was alive and writing ‘Imagine’ today, I am sure that “Imagine no insurance” would be one of the lines in the song.  And trying to imagine it, John, is next to impossible – even for a dreamer like me.  Last week, the Nova Scotia government passed a law making it okay to apologize without claiming liability – it sounds like an original (and mildly ludicrous) idea, but six other provinces had already passed similar legislation.  Nova Scotia was actually a little behind the eight ball in legalizing apologies.  Surely allowing that bill to pass was a tad short-sighted on the part of the insurance sector.  It could have been an entirely new venture for them, we would all need Apology Insurance (we’re Canadian for crying out loud.  Apologizing is part of our National Identity!…  my apologies to anyone who found that statement too nationalistic), and there would have been fine print on all other insurance policies, suggesting that apologizing to a third party would void coverage – unless you had the additional Apology Coverage, of course.  Of course.

So back at the fair, I begrudgingly part with my hard-earned money.  At least with my $25 bracelet, I get on the Scrambler safe in the knowledge that should my compartment let go from the rather flimsy-looking arm to which it is attached and careen into the John Deere tractor display adjacent, the fine folks at Upchuck Amusements have the necessary coverage for my $25,000 in funeral costs (Mom, Dad, just rent a casket and burn me up – it’s not worth it), and I can fly toward that giant, yellow John Deere wheel thinking of the messy state of my room, or the fact that I really was wearing clean underwear – even though no one will be able to tell that now – instead of worrying about my lack of insurance in case of accidental death (which would have tripled my benefits!  It’s like taking odds at a racetrack: will I live a long life, dying of old age; or will I go out early and unexpectedly in some sort of fiery crash?  Who needs a casino when you can just gamble with your life?).  Thanks for taking that worry out of my mind, Upchuck. 

Too bad the extra money collected for insurance couldn’t have been put into new parts for the Scrambler or better training on how to assemble my car so as to prevent my untimely demise.  Hopefully, that wouldn’t be my last thought: the irony that I’ve just paid extra money to make it affordable to kill me.  I would hate to have to debate with myself whether my imminent death could be part of an Alanis Morissette song in which nothing is by definition “ironic”, or if in fact, it does not fit with the rest of the lyrics because the events surrounding my death are, as it turns out, entirely ironic.  Where is a dictionary when you really need one??! Either way, I feel better wearing the bracelet. In fact, it’s been almost a week since the fair and I am still wearing it. I wonder how long my amusement coverage lasts…

“imagine no insurance

it’s easy if you try

no monthly fees or medicals

and when you die, you just die

imagine there’s no worry

when you apologiii-i-hi-i-ize…”