Scaramouche, Scaramouche, will you do the fandango? Queen
By Harry B. Sanderford
The Spanish dance it is named for is a courtship dance that starts out slowly (boy sees girl, girl runs away) and builds to a passionate whirl-wind (boy chases girl, girl looks over her shoulder to make sure boy is still gaining on her). The ride is itself a rhythmic mimic of the dance. Four enormous legs festooned with flashing lights suspend a giant pendulum that swings a whirling merry-go-round business end with increasing speed in an ever expanding arc. It is on the extreme perimeter of that spinning business end that you will find your seat and strap yourself in to ride Fandango. You laugh nervously with your neighbor hoping to appear fearless but secretly you're calculating consequential variants associated with centrifugal forces, corn dogs and candy floss consumption. The ride begins with a slow clockwise rotation and a gentle rocking motion that comforts you at first but it's gathering speed and span with every pass and before you know it you see the ground then you see the sky, you see your house, then you see your thigh, if you see your lunch you're gonna die, ayee-yi-yi-yi! At merciful last it is slowing to a stop and wonder of wonder you didn't even chunder. So bingo bango do the Wango Tango, you just tripped the light Fandango!