Elings Park by Eling Spark

| More

my extremely fine visit to

Elings Regional Park

the second happiest place on earth

by
Eling Spark

Oh, man! My big day is here, and am I ever stoked. I've driven all night from boring old Las Vegas and am now sitting just outside the main entrance to Elings Regional Park in awesome Santa Barbara.

Dude, am I lucky. Even though I arrived late, I still got a spot near the front of the line. So here I wait, revving my motor to keep from stalling, staring straight up at the park's friendly sign and feeling so right at home.

It's nearly 7:00 AM, but only a dozen other vehicles are idling just ahead of me. Judging from their license plates, they've come a long way, too—Arizona, Washington, South Dakota, British Columbia. The excitement feels overwhelming (or maybe the exhaust is starting to make me dizzy).

I first learned about the park on the History Channel. Elings used to be this dinky-nothing nature preserve wasted on tree-huggers, hang-gliders, and local dogs. No more.

It took a group of crafty businessmen networking over cocktails to recognize the parkland's true potential. Encouraged by all the money they'd made hosting a slew of on-site rowdy weddings, they threw together a quick plan to dig up a bit of this and tear up a lot of that, all with a goal of generating even more revenue and, of course, having a little fun.

The fussy elitist locals already hated all the noise and so declined to go along with them. No problem. The fat cats simply bypassed the powerless dolts and enlisted as supporters the town's soccer moms at the cost of a measly six crates of navel oranges and the promise of a couple of new playing fields for their kids.

Armed with their vocal volunteers and a full-color glossy brochure for which they paid a fortune, they bought off the opposition's attorneys and hoodwinked the city's planning commission into rezoning the park as "regional," thereby allowing for essentially unlimited development with no local oversight.

Clever? No, brilliant! From there on out, as they say, it's history. The case is still studied in many business schools around the country.

Though if you ask me, the "regional" designation just doesn't do the park's name any justice. "International" is more like it or maybe "intergalactic"—

Wait!...I think they're unlocking the gates!

I boot up my iPhone 5GXL to make sure my e-Reservation is still there. It is: Admit One Adult, $76, 7 AM to 3 AM, All Areas Pass, Parking $12. Rain or Shine, No Refunds.

Bargain? Hey, tell me about it!

Okay, okay, traffic has begun moving, so I'd better stop rambling. Besides, why talk about Elings Park when I can show you just how happy this very cool place has become?

Really, you are not going to believe it...

elings park

So, I park my truck in the first available spot, sprint towards the turnstile, but then get tripped up by an old lady screaming at some young guy she claims cut in front of her, the net effect of which is that I'm now standing in line with a good fifty people in front of me.

Man, I wish this crowd would get moving or at least step aside so I could get a glimpse of what's behind the ticket gate and souvenir counters. I do see the famous Historical Soccer Pennant Display next to some stuffed chipmunks or whatever they are (I found out later: moles), but damn!, if the park's McDonalds golden arches aren't totally blocking the view.

Soccer, soccer, soccer—the rich guys used it as a springboard. Help the kids, they chanted like a mantra, it's all about the darling kiddies. Brilliant marketing, no?, I mean, who among us doesn't love (or at least like) little kids?

Except...that that sure didn't last for very long.

Less than a year after the expanded regional park reopened for business, the all-new National Health Care Commission banned the sport for children under age 16 because of the high cost of treating so many bleeding brains destined to end up one day inside of a government-funded dementia unit.

(Plus, the kids didn't give a hoot about it anyway, only the parents. Building soccer fields was so 1990s, about as exciting to today's hip younger crowd as if the Elings guys had presented them with a gold-gilded library where they could sit themselves down and...read from paper books?)

So almost immediately it was back to the drawing board for the Elings people, exactly as the savvy rich guys had secretly planned it, only this time unfettered by the requirement that they waste huge expanses of valuable open space on grassy fields that generated not one red cent of precious revenue—

I finally reach the ticket booth window and show the nice man inside my phone and ID. He snaps a plastic bracelet around my wrist, and I'm inside at last. I sure wish the people in back would quit pushing. Up ahead I see something red and gold and—

OH MY GAWD! The famous Elings bullring outdoes my wildest dreams.

elings bull rink

The picture books all fail to do it justice. Even without the popcorn vendors, matadors, and charging bulls, it's enough to take your breath away. Plus, the place is a masterpiece of multi-use design, doubling not just as a amphitheater for special events, but also as an arena for all sorts of extra-special happenings, like tonight's incredible Annual School Bus Demolition Derby!

Moving on, I know exactly what to expect before actually looking because I've memorized the park's layout from the Elings app on my iPad. I swivel my gaze slowly and—yes!

elings rollercoaster

Talk about site-sensitive green development.

It's amazing how the architects spared no expense in surrounding the two cresote-treated wooden roller coasters with strategically laid strips of organic Astroturf and reclaimed chlorinated water to make the whole scene blend so seamlessly with its natural surroundings, as if it had been put there on day one by the Creator, a glowing (especially at night with all its flickering red, white, and blue LEDs) testament to the magnificence of wood, grass, and water employed responsibly.

Vaguely short of breath and giddy with delight, I'm distracted by a loud noise (far exceeding the allowable 60 decibel limit) to my left. I look past the bullring, over the ferris wheel, and up towards the hills bordered by local homes in the far distance.

A helicopter is dumping water onto a smoky hillside.

I overhear a lady telling her friend how a fire broke out last night after some drunk fifteen year old sliding down the Elings zip-line forgot he was smoking and let out a big scream of happiness only to have his cigarette plummet into the dry brush below.

And now, she says, the park's management is thinking about canceling tonight's fireworks performance till the hot spot is under full control.

Thinking of canceling? After a fire almost burns down a hill and a hundred homes? After acres of plants and dozens of endangered species just lost their lives for no reason?

Come on! What do these guys need to think about?

Weeds and scraggly bushes can grow back in a couple of decades while this may be the only time I ever visit Santa Barbara.

So please, please, you guys, come on! Do not cancel the midnight Malaysian fireworks show.

my extremely fine visit to
Elings Regional Park

continues on page two

top