I’ve seen the term “tipping point” used in a number of ways in the past few years. It has described the slow spread of a flu virus before it reaches a critical number in a population and then cascades into global epidemic. Environmentally speaking, the tipping point is when a gradual physical process triggers other physical processes, cascading geometrically into an uncontrollable torrent of events.

For decades now I have felt like a passenger on a roller coaster ratcheting inch by inch up a track. The only thing in front of me has been a limitless wall of blue sky and the somewhat sunburned scalp of the person in the seat in front of me. Suddenly the upward climb levels out and I am in an angle of repose. I can see the whole amusement park spread out beneath me, and I experience an exhilarating sense of seeing the world in perspective. I know my moment of calm will be replaced by stomach constricting freefall.

I don’t enjoy roller coasters. Personally, I think that if you allow some guy with a fifth-grade education and a roach clip for an earring to lock you into a fiberglass cartoon rocket you deserve what you get. You are a trusting soul. You have complete trust in the machinery, the tensile strength of the nuts and bolts, the cold metal solidity of the tracks and wheels. By extension, you have trust in the skill of the engineers who designed the ride and some sketchy sense of confidence in the mechanical abilities of the ride-jocks who bolted it together.

You bought a ticket for the “Screaminator.” This pretty much confirms that you are more focused on experiencing the intense ups and downs ahead than your distance from the ground. You enjoy the adrenaline rush. You’ve never bothered to read the disclaimer on the back of the ticket.

Roller coaster fatalities are rare because the rides are designed by qualified engineers. Roller coasters are safe because accidents are bad for business. The amusement park trains its staff and ensures that maintenance is done daily. But what if the ride was not well thought out? What if the engineers who designed the ride only thought of a constant rising up, the steeper the better, with no thought of reaching the ground in safety? You wouldn’t line up to ride on a roller coaster that was only half built. But what if you didn’t have a choice?

I wish the Federal Reserve had been run by Disneyland “Imagineers” for the past 30 years rather than Yale-educated economists. The guys who designed “Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride” at least, know that what goes up must eventually come down. I would rather have had Tiny, the guy who runs the “Tilt-A-Whirl,” with his hand on our foreign policy for the past seven years, because at the end of the day he just wants to go back to his trailer and give the “Pitch ‘Til You Win” girl a squeeze. He’s not trying to make millions for his buddies at Northrop-Grumman. Or Blackwater. Or, well, it’s a pretty long list and you aren’t on it.

But we are strapped into the Reagan-Bush-Clinton-Bush Bubble Economy roller coaster. A safe landing was never really considered. The track has been laid with little or no supporting structure. Lately it seems to me that the vast wall of blue sky in front of me has been leveling off. My stomach recognizes this angle of repose and I can’t help but notice how very high up this ride is.

Mike Mack can be contacted at electmikemack@yahoo.com.