Taking Them for a Ride

Coney Island's biggest addition for 1963 is Astroland, a $3,000,000 fun-and-games nexus devoted to space exploration. It has the Cape Canaveral Satellite Jet--passengers enter the rocket, fasten seat belts, then blast off with engines roaring as filmed special-effects from actual space shots conjure up a journey to the moon. The Colonel Glenn Sky Ride has 16 plastic bubbles orbiting 80 feet above the boardwalk. For downward exploration the Neptune Diving Bell encloses 30 people, drops them 35 feet down to an "ocean floor" where live porpoises play. Further along is the Double Sky Wheel, a king-sized dumbbell with gyratory center beam supporting two independent wheels that can't decide whether to plunge suicidally earthward or whiz away toward Mars.

Coney's coony additions are only part of a nationwide move by amusement parks to take the people for a ride. And the take is good: amusement parks show a healthy upswing of attendance this summer. Says Editor Irwin Kirby of the trade's Amusement Business, "It looks like one hell of a season if the weather just gives these boys a break."

Under the Saw. New Jersey's Palisades Park has installed an outsized, 100-ft.-high Ferris wheel which jazzes up the ride with horizontally revolving seats. Nearby is The Monster--an "octopus" crossed with Lord-knows-what by some madman, and just the ticket to produce four-way stomach upset. Six Flags, near Dallas, has the Aserradero (Spanish for sawmill), with a water flume ride that puts four passengers into a hollow log, runs them under a circular saw, shoots them along a rapids, finally abandons them to the simple trauma of a steep downhill sluicing.

Even the daddy of the "theme" parks, Disneyland, has recognized that it's wise to play surprise-surprise to be sure that those cash registers clang. Though 5,000,000 contented customers trouped through Walt's Sleeping Beauty Castle and Indian Village last year, he has added The Swiss Family Treehouse, which will lead kiddies through 150,000 handmade leaves and blossoms to the Robinsons' abode 80 feet above the jungle--delightfully furnished with flotsam, jetsam (down to the last doily), plus a fabulous view. And the Oakland, (Calif.) Children's Fairyland has built a Chinese Tree Teahouse offering tea and cookies aloft. Halfway up, an open-mouthed dragon invites the small fry to slide down his throat. "Kids will go nuts when they see it," says a prideful spokesman.

The Last Supper. Most Disneyland imitators have discovered that a park cannot thrive on a theme alone. "Theme parks have a hard time, unless they add new attractions," says one authority. "People don't come back, and what makes a park click is repeat business."

New York's Freedomland, so far a financial disaster (to the tune of some $5,000,000 per annum), has now surrounded its stagecoach and paddle-wheel steamers with some $3,000,000 worth of traditional hold-onto-your-hat rides. "Basically there are only two rides: up and down, or around--but you've got to have them to make a living in this business," says Freedomland Vice President Art Moss. Freedomland's latest include a monorail roller coaster imported from Germany, a Space Whirl featuring bumper cars which can also whirl like dervishes at 100 r.p.m. But the park's most puzzling addition to its fun is no ride; it's a waxworks replica of the Last Supper.

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