Jul 17, 2017 3 min read

Last Sunday was Italian Day at Kennywood Park, and I can’t wait to tell you all about it.

My brother Brian, his kids and I had staked out two tables at a pavilion as we waited for family members to arrive. Family members started to pour in. At one point, my cousin Ray texted us and said he was going to drop off some supplies at the gate behind the big pavilion.

Side note about the side gate: It is a well-kept secret. It’s back behind the big pavilion where they usually have an oompah group singing “In Heaven There Is No Beer” on German Day. The gate is almost always open, and it’s great for dropping off strollers, coolers, cases of water and bags of groceries.

My brother, my cousin and I set out to assist Ray. At the gate, there was a cooler and a stack of stuff waiting for us. We grabbed it and hauled it back to our picnic tables. When we looked inside, we realized we had nabbed the wrong stuff.

The unidentified owners had store-bought cookies. If you’ve ever met my relatives, you know they would never bring store-bought cookies to a family event! It’s heresy!

I frantically led the charge back to the gate to replace the items. After all, I had stolen goods on me. I grabbed the cooler by the retractable handle and ran off. In my haste, I toppled over the cooler and the contents came spilling out. Bottles of Pepsi and maple cookies went rolling out in every direction. I jammed the bottles of Pepsi back in the cooler and placed it back at the gate just as my cousin was pulling up. Luckily, the owners of the pilfered products never learned we stole their stuff. Unless they’re reading this column, in which case … I owe them a sleeve of maple cookies that I threw away. Sadly, they were not the only cookies that were tossed that day. After all, we were at Kennywood.

Some kid puked in the Thunderbolt line. I have to ask, “Who throws up waiting to get ON a roller coaster?”

For years, I’ve approached amusement parks with unbridled zeal. They are starting to lose their appeal (unintentional rhyme).

At Kennywood, I notice I opt out of more and more rides. As we chugged up the hill on the Phantom’s Revenge, and I could see my brother’s car all the way in the free parking area, I thought, “It’s unnecessary to be this high up and not go to Florida, Hawaii or Europe.”

I can’t ride anything that spins. I have willingly become the designated holder of sunglasses and cellphones.

We made a lot of memories that day. We managed to catch up with relatives at the picnic table and in a long line for the Exterminator. I was there from when the park opened until the fireworks. It was a great outing. We made some great Kennywood memories. Rick Sebak will be proud.