I was going to the bank to open an account up here finally yesterday, and on my way out I decided to stop at the mailbox because I hadn't checked my mail in a few days. Not only was there a check for $50 from my Grandma, but there was also a note stuck on my mailbox door saying that I had a package waiting for me in the office. I went to the office and saw that it was something form my sister. A square box, I figured a framed picture of some sort. I had originally planned to just take whatever mail I got out to the car and open it all when I got back from the bank, but now I had to come back upstairs and find out what was in this box. I opened it up and there was a note attached to the bubble wrapped frame:

"Jason,

No one else really gets this, but I know you will.

Love, Angie"

I tore the bubble wrap off, and there was a beautifully framed black and white photograph of a Tilt-a-Whirl. You know, the amusement park ride. This picture was taken from above, it shows two empty tilt a whirl cars. It's really composed beautifully, my sister has a serious knack for photography. I laughed, and flipped it over. On the back there was a sticker that said, "Tilt a whirl gods." I laughed more.

What year was it, maybe '97? '98? I went out to Minnesota with Missy and Jethro to see Jethro's family. Angie met some guy on the internet, a serious goober, but that's neither here nor there, who lived in MN and decided to fly out there to meet him. The whole bunch of us met up at Valley Fair, the amusement park, one day. The day was alright, you know, a decent day at the amusement park, but it became a very memorable day when we decided to ride the tilt a whirl. Angie, me, Missy, and Juston, Jethro's brother, all piled into one car. Our timing was just right, leaning when we should, or maybe we weighed the exact amount we should or something, I don't know, but that damn car never stopped spinning. And spinning fast, too. Incredibly fast. We screamed and yelled like a bunch of little kids. "We're the tilt a whirl gods!" People in other cars looked at us with envy in their eyes as their cars would maybe a tilt a little bit, but rarely whirled. And when the ride was over, we immediately jumped in line again. It's a short line. Tilt a whirl is old school. People think they're too good for it. This time the ride operator just let the damn thing run, and smiled as we went around and around. She probably let us ride that thing for ten minutes, all the while we screamed out our self proclaimed title: tilt a whirl gods. Still, every time I see Juston, we talk about the tilt a whirl. When I was last in LA and we went to Six Flags, among the billion foot high rollercoasters and all that shit, Angie and I still had to make sure we rode that fucking tilt a whirl.

Funny how such a simple little thing, a little moment, can become this amazing memory. I can tell this story a million times and no one will ever understand, I can write about it here and people will say, "It's a fucking tilt a whirl. Get over it," but all I can say is, "You weren't there." That one day in the blazing humid Minnesota summer, at Valley Fair amusement park, when three Utahns and a local were able to proclaim themselves the tilt a whirl gods.

It's those little things, those tiny moments, that make all the other stuff in life worth trudging through.

Goddamn my sister is great. Thanks, Angie.