I was completely soaked. Wet hair, wet clothes, and a heart and head full of wet giggles. My children were probably in preschool or maybe first or second grade, and we couldn’t stop squealing. We were visiting Gulf Shores, Alabama and had stopped into one of those arcade and go kart places to have some fun between beach combing. These were the days when taking three children under seven into even a mild surf was exhausting — grabbing on to hands, bracing to stand up, jumping waves, and frankly, holding them back. So, finding a place where we were all fenced in and also able to stand on our own two feet was a welcomed adventure. The kids weren’t tall enough for go karts, but we found the bumper boats. And, I’m sure you can imagine the scene.
All strapped in. Kids against Mommy. I couldn’t figure out how to maneuver my boat, but the under seven crowd was doing just fine! They pummeled me with their water sprayers. Pummeled. Other moms’ kids steered over to pummel. People stared, and we screamed at the top of our lungs — those half belly laugh screams that tire you out in a life-is-spectacular sort of way. More people stared, but we didn’t much notice. And when we did, we assumed it was bumper boat envy. We were convinced they were secretly taking sides or at least wishing their ride could be as exciting as ours. When the music stopped on our last round, we climbed out of the boats literally dripping with all the fun we’d had. At least I was dripping. The kids seemed to come out of the line with only pride and huge smiles to show for their fun.
There was a kid-sized amusement park with all the old-style rides, and we took turns on kiddie carts, the merry-go-round, and the airplanes. Those primary-colored, hurky-jerky airplanes. Spinning an up-and-down flight pattern where we were chasing each other, but never got any closer. Mouths open and steering with all our might to try and break the surly bonds. We forgot the time, and the humidity, and wherever we wanted to go next in a cacophony of organ music, giggles, and tokens dropping in coin boxes.
Summer is made for carefree moments, where all the common sense and self-conscious thoughts are abandoned.
As we continue to face the realities of Covid-19, “carefree” may be more of an inward mindset than an outward practice. Cares are certainly abundant, and dropping our common sense right now is not only ill-advised, but unhealthy and, at times, dangerous. Still, I hope that’s not the only thing we remember about the summer of 2020. I hope we look back and see giggles through an unexpected time of closeness. I hope we’ll remember getting creative inside and following through on a few of our “sometimes” since our options have been limited.
The other day, I found some pictures from that visit to the amusement park, all ablaze with colors and exaggerated shapes and the hazy afternoon sun — amusements conquered with abandon and belly laughs. I decided to pull them together here in a photo essay, along with glimpses from a few other favorite haunts — twenty collected moments of amusement I hope will call to mind the joy of summertime unencumbered.
Places captured around MY SOUTH:
The Track : Gulf Shores, Alabama
Memphis Zoo : Memphis, Tennessee
Jackson Zoo : Jackson, Mississippi
MY SOUTH photo essays document wonders and curiosities from around the South, where every stop has a story.
Hello & welcome! I’m Haley Montgomery, and I’m the designer and owner of 
