Neat Magic Mountain history video montage

Six Flags Magic Mountain is a place I love to hate. Or maybe I hate the fact that I love it. I'm not quite sure. Like many of my generation, MM was my first place of employment. I sold soft frozen lemonade there from 1993 to 1996. I sweated many an August summer day there, serving sticky, frozen lemonade, dodging bees, and admiring all the cute girls, all the while tending my till and making sure I didn't come in under what the receipts said. I served Japanese, Latin, European, and Indian tourists; I served kids I knew from high school, and was supervised by kids who were a year or two ahead of me and in college. I refused tips for good service, took abuse from mean customers, and learned the ends and outs of life, retail, and the food business at that park. I earned enough money with my $4.25/hour minimum wage job to buy a beat-up old Nissan truck that got me through college and then some. 

Now, nearly 20 years later, I'm amazed the place is still open. Magic Mountain to me has always felt a little loose, a little on edge, like it was always teetering on the brink of shutting down, like its various owners and Newhall Land itself always knew it was a fleeting, temporary thing, a place built on a whim to attract white people to a valley full of new homes. 

As a result, Magic Mountain has always had somewhat of an identity crisis, kind of like the Newhall-Saugus area SCV itself. It was never meant as a true competitor of Disneyland, and even after they successfully got Warner Brothers characters on board in the 80s, it never even came close to the kind of premier destination Disneyland has always been. I'd argue it has even less character than Knott's Berry Farm, or even Sea World. By the late 90s and early 2000s, Magic Mountain only distinguished itself by jumping on the "EXTREME!!!1!11!" bandwagon and promoting itself as an amazing place for adrenaline-junkies. 

And yet, the SCV wouldn't be what it is today without Magic Mountain. And I wouldn't be who I am, either. And millions of Angelenos wouldn't know where Santa Clarita is without it. So I have this odd sort of love-hate relationship with Magic Mountain. I'm kind of hoping it will be around once my son turns 16, just so he can go through the same crucible-like experience I did as a teen.  

After all, we can't all be born (and somehow survive!) at Mayo hospital in the SCV like our friend I Heart was; the next most authentic SCV experience, I'd argue, is working for at least one summer as a teenager at Magic Mountain, serving up treats, overpriced foods, and thrills to people wondering what the hell they're doing way out here in Valencia at this hilly, hot, and crowded theme park.