April 2 2014 (Wednesday)
Have you heard about the new farris wheel in Las Vegas? Its 550 feet high. That’s the equivalent of a 55-story skyscraper. Instead of the old-time double seats that rocked like a porch swing, this wheel has rooms–each one accommodating 40 people. If you are inclined to do so, you can have a party in one of those rooms, complete with bar, waiters, etc. Filled to capacity, the wheel can twirl 1,120 people at a time for 30 minutes. Cost is $25 per person in the daytime and $35 at night. Of course, cost is not a factor, because you can use your gambling winnings for the fare (yeah, right). Its name is “High Roller.”
Somebody is planning an even bigger wheel for New York City, and you’ll be able to view the Statue of Liberty and the Manhattan skyline from 625 feet in the air above Staten Island.
These rides are nothing like the farris wheels of our youth, when people in the seats, going around and around, could throw peanuts at their friends admiring their courage from the safe terra firma, yelling and joking with each other as they spun (spinned? span? spin’t?).
Ever since Barnum and Bailey advertised “The Greatest Show on Earth,” people have been thrilled with the spectacular and fantastic, always bigger and better–and much more glitzy. Sooner or later, however, most folks learn that “pleasures and palaces” run their course and they find themselves longing for inner peace and quietness. We sing, “There is a place of quiet rest near to the heart of God, A place where sin cannot molest, near to the heart of God.” That “place” is right there in your very own heart.