In every Midwest amusement park,there’s the music of the maw& then there’s the music of the mind:tonsils out, up The Beast’s wooden-slatted hills, its rocking set list curatedfor all the popcorn-getters & thrill seekers.Do people still go to Cincinnatifor senior trips? The music is raucousas you ascend: Living Color, GunsN’ Roses, & the coaster’s clacks & creaksas the loudmouth on the PA remindsthat the entire contraption is builtfrom old wood. Back on Earth: human-sized Tasmanian Devils, big sodasin every hand, rigged ring tosses& a spectacular boardwalk nextto tea cup rides full of crying toddlers.The circusness of it—sleight-of-hand,weight-guessing shenanigans all overthe place. The last time I was there,I tried to sneak onto a couples-onlyride solo & the two-toothed carneytaking tickets snatched me by my neck.He said I was too lightweight to ridealone & back then, he was probably right.