A joke that you'd only understand if you have an intimate knowledge of the esoteric names of the Wildwood amusement pier rides, and/or can zoom in on this picture to see the only large ride that we can see from the deck of our rental property:
"I'm going to ride It!"
"What are you going to ride?"
"I said I'm going to ride It."
"I understand that you want to go on a ride, but what's the name of it?"
"It!"
"I don't understand why you won't just tell me what it's called."
And etc.
I waited all week for It to happen. Not the ride though. Something else. What is the It in this idea? I don't know. I can't explain it. Or rather, can't explain It. I was waiting for something... exciting? Not that we didn't have fun. We had fun. Good ol' family fun. But there was a time when this town was full of It for me, and it's not, and I had this weird thought in the back of my head that maybe It would return this summer, this week. But as I sat on the deck by myself late at night each night and stared out at It in the distance like Wildwood's North Star, I was forced to reckon with the irrevocable truth that It is not going to happen.
What's not going to happen????
It. You get it.
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