By Wayne William Cipriano
Living as close as we do to Branson, we all have a chance to see some pretty good shows and have fun at go-kart races, auto museums, shopping centers, and etc.
One of the most exciting things offered around Branson is the zip-line ride. They hook you up to a long cable with safety belts and pulleys, give you a crash helmet, and away you go, drawn by gravity high above the trees, streams, rocks, providing a heart-pounding picturesque rush that you will probably never forget.
We stopped to check it out, more interested in the details than riding the cable that day. While we were standing around we overheard a family trying to convince their patriarch, who had just turned 90-years-old, to give the zip-line a try. He was all decked out in a suit and tie, celebrating his birthday, smiling a lot, but a little reluctant.
I’m sure the older gentleman’s resistance was less a failure of courage or imagination, than an economic anchor dragging behind a lifetime of frugality.
One family member after another tried to set grandpa’s mind at rest, declaring that the cost was unimportant because the experience was priceless.
Ultimately gramps stepped up and was buckled and snapped, helmeted and goggled, and readied for an “indescribable adventure”. But, just before he started, he turned to one of the employees and said, “If you don’t tell me what this costs, you can just take all this stuff off me and I will go home.”
The employee glanced at the assembled family with a questioning look and one of the grandchildren said, “Well, Papaw, the regular price is $100, but we have a discount coupon so it only costs $50 today.”
“Fifty bucks?” questioned the elderly gentleman. “For fifty bucks there better be a huge prize at the end of this thing!”