Showing posts with label Marineland. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marineland. Show all posts

Sunday, September 15, 2013

Deer don't like diet dog food but for eight bucks, you can feed a whale

I love love love my country. However, there are very few places in the continental United States that will allow a girl to waltz through the admissions turn-style with a bulging bag of diet dog food, eight apples and a package of large marshmallows. Clearly, this chick has the makings of a bear buffet in her bag and yet, in Canada, no one blinks an eye. The Mosimans love Marineland. We tend to visit in September when the weather is pleasantly mild and the crowds have diminished considerably. On this particular day, the park was occupied by Mennonites and a strange cult of people notable for wearing bright red pants. When we first arrived, Sydney charmed the ticket-taker and humiliated us when she squealed with delight over the colorful Canadian money. Concerned that idiots were about to enter the park, the woman then handed us arcade tokens and warned us in a loud, clear voice, "These are NOT money." And even with that, we trusted Sydney with the park map. "Turn left at Hungry Bear Restaurant," she guided us confidently. That was the last correct direction she offered us for the day.

Force-feeding deer
We eagerly entered the deer enclosure, fumbling for the diet dog food and preparing ourselves for the inevitable physical assault that was sure to follow. Turns out deer and dachshunds share an equal disdain for diet dog food. They sniffed politely, stuck up their velvety noses and then turned hoof and ran. Hurt, we beat a hasty retreat. The bears were next. Concerned with their teeth, Brad adamantly refused to feed them marshmallows so the girls and I ate them while tossing diet dog food into the watery moat. The bears weren't quite as discriminating as the deer but clearly showed a preference for peanuts-in-the-shell and Captain Crunch. Sydney's snack distribution math was a little cloudy as her division calculations assigned Savannah one apple, her mother one apple, her father no apples with the remainder left for herself. I could watch bears bob for apples all day.


This is how they looked BEFORE the roller-coaster!
The roller-coaster at Dragon Mountain is an exciting ride that plunges you into deep, dark tunnels before launching you upside down into the air several times. My stomach was still spinning as we began the mountainous climb up to the Sky Screamer. "Is the pavement changing colors," I panted with concern, hyperventilating a bit. After assuring me that it was simply the pattern of the roadway, my family branched out, ready to catch me should I topple over. Brad and Sydney rode the Sky Screamer while I lay breathless on a picnic bench, deafened by my own heartbeat. Obviously, I was done with rides for the day.
Sky Screamer


Turns out giant carp, seagulls, and Canada geese have no qualms with diet dog food so we spent a great deal of time feeding them before moving onto the Beluga whales. For eight dollars, you can feed a Beluga three sardines and pet it for twelve seconds. TOTALLY WORTH IT!!! They feel like high-end mozzarella, smile sweetly and tweet like my cockatiel.  "You know," I shared knowledgeably with my family, "Belugas are known as the canaries of the sea." Sydney flat out chose not to believe me and Brad wanted to know who was walking around out there, calling Belugas canaries.

We spent our arcade tokens battling one another on a rousing game of "Catch a flying bee in a net and pour it into a plastic hive." I emerged as the no-holds-barred victor. Then we watched the seal and dolphin show, the giant walrus blowing us a kiss as we headed for the exit. It was just like the song!

            We took our family for the day.
      We watched the whales and dolphins play.
                  They jumped in the air,
           didn't splash ANY waves in our hair
           (because Brad Mosiman insisted
            on sitting beyond the splash zone),
         
The Mosimans love...Marineland!

Monday, July 29, 2013

Savannah could have been a star on "Barney"

Some time ago, we were watching a television special on Taylor Swift and Savannah responded quite noticeably when the talented singer described her up-bringing. "I grew up on a Christmas tree farm in Reading, Pennsylvania," Ms. Swift said, "It was the most magical fun childhood." Savannah has held a vindictive grudge against me since discovering that Selena Gomez was a child actor on Barney and Friends. When Savannah was little, she was entranced by the musical adventures of her prehistoric purple PBS pal. On several VHS videos (remember those?), the show segment would end with a brief actor recruitment commercial and four-year-old Savannah realized that this was her foot in the door to fame and fortune. Having already committed every Barney song to memory,  Savannah began to study each episode to further hone her acting craft. I admit it.  I failed her. It wasn't as though I was lacking in home-movie material. I have oodles of archived occasions featuring Savannah singing the addictive "I love you, you love me, we're a hap-py fam-i-ly, with a great big hug and a kiss to me and you...(blow a kiss to the camera while preparing for the big finish) won't you say you love...me...too? (bum bum)."  Along that same venue, Savannah could have also been the Marineland representative. "Niagara Falls, Ontario...Marineland is the place to go...." Even today, when a Marineland commercial comes on the television, Brad and I can hear the sound of footie-pajama-ed ghost feet as Savannah would race in (even AFTER bedtime) the room to sing along. But I lacked the foresight of Selena Gomez's family. I was short on the sacrificial determination of Taylor Swift's parents. I didn't send in an audition tape and Savannah's dream of dancing with a purple dinosaur was shattered.

Emotionally-scarred for all these years, the possibility of healing arrived ironically.  Johnson & Johnson's Band-Aid brand bandages is looking for their next "Stuck on me" star  https://www.facebook.com/bandaid?sk=app_446166212144556As my still-traumatized teen sat slumped on the couch, Brad and I immediately began singing the jingle to her. "I am stuck on Band-Aid brand cuz bandaid's stuck on me!" Our bright and shining star, first born from the primordial pits of children's entertainment, then caught in the catastrophic climate change that froze Savannah's fossilized dreams, began to show a flicker of life. But alas...subsequent research revealed that childhood dreams do indeed have a statute of limitations. Apparently, childhood concludes at age fourteen. Savannah, a month-shy of approaching her golden years of twenty, is no longer eligible for child super-stardom. I wince as I consider my role in Savannah's biography. "My childhood wasn't magical at all," she'll share, "If it wasn't bad enough that my shared bedroom was the size of a closet, my mother took every opportunity to burst my bubbles. I coulda been a star."