Reliving Fond Memories - Jul 18, 2002

Reliving Fond Memories
Page 1 of 1

by David Mink (archives)
July 18, 2002
This month David has a special birthday column.

A Late Date 

Ahh, Disneyland's birthday.

This is THE day to go to the Magic Kingdom. Strolling past tiki huts, wagon wheels and spaceships, having lunch in a Bavarian inn. Music and popcorn drifting on the vanilla scented breeze. I'm not aware of what Management has in store for the guests. But that doesn't matter. Today we should celebrate the genius of one man and his universal dream. This is a day for walking with the past and looking to the future. Isn't that what Disneyland's all about?

I circle the date on the calendar with a red sharpie. I have the day off, first time in several years. I figure the day will be summer hot, so I wonder whether I should invest in some new Mickey shorts to get me into the proper, celebrating mood. I take one of my Disney hats out of the closet and dust it off.

Underneath the splendiferous emotional high, I am being nagged by a feeling that something is amiss. Over the weekend, while looking through a vintage Disneyland booklet I had bought for peanuts at a garage sale, a vague uneasiness hovering over me. Like a ghost making faces in my peripheral vision.

I find myself looking down empty halls. Every noise is starting to make me jump. Even my food does not taste correct. I count all the Disney figurines on the shelves. Nothing is missing.

Then one morning after I put on my Mickey watch, I open my wallet and my feelings of dread became vivid: MY ANNUAL PASSPORT HAS EXPIRED. I experience a moment of Hitchcockian vertigo.

This cannot be. I stare popeyed at the piece of plastic again and again, as if the act of willful concentration alone could make the date magically change. My own picture, taken three years ago, accuses me with a disbelieving stare.

I am a failure in the eyes of APers everywhere. I sense a gasp in the collective unconscious. The clocks have stopped ticking in the other room. I picture myself paraded as the King of Fools through Passholderland. How could I have let this happen?

Throughout the last couple of months I had been extraordinarily busy. I had not been in the park for a couple of months due to obligations. I neglected what is one of the more important cards in my wallet.

I know an AP card is a frivolous expenditure. But it still left a vacuum. I like the idea of knowing the park was there. Disneyland acts as a pressure valve. It is a plastic parachute, a patch of blue sky in the smog of my work a day life. You see: Disneyland is not just an amusement park for me. If it were, then Six Flags or Knotts would fill the bill easily. To me Disneyland is an alternative reality, a leisurely place to forget the troubles of the smoldering world around me.

Once I get home we can….oh….

Well, after this assignment is finished I'd like to…oh….

You know what? I can really use an ice cream at the Gib…oh…

Silence. A bead of sweat pops out on my forehead as I nervously drum on the desktop.

It’s reassuring to know that if my work life (as opposed to my real life) was getting stale and stressful I could ride down to the park and watch the fireworks. Or spend a couple of hours, strolling through New Orleans Square, have some dinner. Enjoy the silhouette of the Frontierland fort at sunset, ragtime music floating on the summer night air. (I wish the park still had Dixieland jazz concerts). Get lost in acres of comfort zone. But it vanished, a dream interrupted. No more discounts, no more print on demand, no more salted popcorn, the smell of the musty air conditioning.

The doors of contented happiness have shut on me. The room has fallen to shadows; there are no windows and no doors. The night seems closer; the moon has gone away. I start to bite my nails. I feel vulnerable. My safety net is gone.

Stop it, I tell myself; this is the time to grow up, to face my responsibilities. This is all very silly, there’s no need to panic. But I do my duty, every day, and my shifty eyes don’t mean I’m panicking. Dammit, I miss that passport!

Remain calm! I’ll forget my dilemma by watching some of the Vault Disney videos I had taped over the years. On my screen are images of Walt introducing the park, the look of expansive satisfaction on his face as he turns to the massive painting of the park on the wall behind him. The model of Main Street is in front of him on a table. Then there’s Walt, talking to a Tiki Bird, or feeding an AA dinosaur.

This doesn't help. It makes the alienation concrete, the separation more delineated. I squirm in my chair in the blue glow as I recognize familiar buildings on the models. The Emporium, Candy Palace…damn...my eyes are rolling back in my head.

Some gifts are not to be taken for granted. We tend to appreciate simple pleasures much more when they are gone. In the face of barbaric attacks, worldwide panic, revolving scandal du jour, and expiring passes, it’s good that something like Disneyland is on the planet. So my celebration of Disneyland this July 17, 2002 is a little more heartfelt than usual.

On this anniversary (once the pass has been renewed), I plan to walk in Walt’s footsteps. Though they are faded with time, the spirit that built this fascinating park is still there. I will sail with the Pirates; watch the Sunset from the Mark Twain. I’ll watch the moonlight dance on the surface of the submarine lagoon. I will end the evening with a ride on the Casey Jr. train. I will savor the moment among Walt’s beloved miniatures, as the fireworks explode overhead.

I remember myself as a child, terrycloth shirt and butch wax hair, fixated in rapture as Tinkerbell glided overhead. I project myself in the future, seeing myself with my own children, gliding through Wonderland in a caterpillar. I am a time traveler, savoring the uniqueness of being in two places at once. This experience I owe to Walt Disney and his vision.

Now I just need to sit calmly till payday….

"Look, the thing that's going to make Disneyland unique and different is the detail. If we lose the detail, we lose it all." Walt Disney

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-- David Mink

Reliving Fond Memories is posted the third Wednesday of each month.

The opinions expressed by our David Mink, and all of our columnists, do not necessarily represent the feelings of LaughingPlace.com or any of its employees or advertisers. All speculation and rumors about the future plans of the Walt Disney Company are just that - speculation and rumors - and should be treated as such.

-- Posted July 18, 2002