James Griffin: Welcome to the state of fun

The emotionally wizened and/or those of an overtly cynical disposition should turn away now, lest the bile level in your bloodstream reaches critical level. I issue this health warning because the following column deals unabashedly with what jolly good fun an excellent theme park can be, if approached with an open mind and an open wallet.

In the last couple of weeks, those of the school holidays, the whanau and I have spent our time in California, driving many a mile in search of theme-park fun. To hell with the recession, we said, and away we went.

Actually, to tell the truth, we'd booked the flights ages ago because there was a cheap deal going and then, when the die had well and truly been cast, the recession bit, just to add some spice to our sojourn. We'll deal with the financial consequences as the credit card bills come rolling in - though I am hoping for some kind of toxic debt government bail-out package in the not-too-distant future.

Some might argue that all of California is actually one giant theme-park, right down to having a part-animatronics, part-CGI Terminator for a Governor instead of an actual human being. And I would not argue because this only adds to the fun of the California adventure, causing it to spill over the traditional boundaries of theme-park fun into the quasi-real life.

Certainly driving the I-5 in a V8 Cadillac from San Diego to Los Angeles at speed - because "at speed" is how the I-5 rolls (except when it grinds to a halt) - is much like any ride Disneyland or Universal Studios or Seaworld can throw at you, only much more terrifying. But back in actual theme-park world there are smorgasbords of delights to be savoured in California from back-flipping killer whales, being swallowed by a giant Lisa Simpson, or even in shooting stupid Lego targets from your Lego Indiana Jones truck at Legoland California - whole worlds of new experiences open up to you.

Even watching pandas eat bamboo at the zoo is exciting, in a California kinda way. Yes, I'm including the rightfully world famous San Diego Zoo under the classification "theme-park" because, quite frankly, anything in America that involves large numbers of people coming to a single venue, to share an entertainment experience, takes on certain thematic properties.

Thus watching a panda eat bamboo can easily be equated with the Simpsons ride at Universal Studios, to the point where it is hard to say which is better. The Simpsons ride was technologically awesome and great, but the panda was, well, a panda eating bamboo, which was also awesome and great, but in a whole other way. [As an aside, the rest of the animal kingdom must really hate pandas.

Yes, they're black and white and cute, but they really do suck up a lot of the available love humans have towards animals - them and dolphins and whales. The Visayan warty pigs, for example, must be totally septic because all they get is derision about their species' name.]

Theme parks of any variety - be they overtly-corporate spin-offs, as in the case of Legoland or Universal or ideological/cultural mega-entities like Disneyland - require a certain suspension of normal human function in order to enjoy them in the way God, or Walt, intended. They come at you like a tonne of Lego bricks, every moment you are there, urging you to have fun. It is easy to reject this - especially if all you want to do is have fun without being told to have fun.

If you can get through this barrier - a task that is by no means easy, given the relentless bombardment of the spirit by the happy, happy music blaring from the tannoys and the cheerful urgings of the cheerful Californian staff - then the theme-park experience, even in jaded, middle-aged adults is worth the exorbitant prices of admission.

Getting soaked at Seaworld, getting tossed around like a rag-doll on The Mummy ride at Universal, even sitting through every monumentally cheesy ride at Legoland, can become a great old time - if you let yourself be taken by the force, Luke. Sure there are certain attractions you wish were on offer that aren't. An interactive shoot-'em-up game where you get to blast to pieces some of the thousands of strollers and/or mobility scooters that block your path at every given turn at Disneyland would be nice.

Likewise, a ride that leads you to food that doesn't clog your arteries just by looking at it would be a worthwhile experience at any of these parks. But these minor quibbles pale into comparison alongside the mountain of good, clean, American, old-fashioned family fun that can be bought when you enter theme-park world, California. There are certainly many, many worse ways to spend both your time and vast quantities of your money while you're in Southern California.

Like catching swine flu, for example. A good, old-fashioned pandemic, now there's a laugh riot for the 21st century.