And safety comes first.

Monday, November 14

Your Donald sucks. The one at Hong Kong Disneyland is more charismatic.

Recently, I took a trip down memory lane and ended up in Disneyland.

In line waiting for a Mickey-shaped rice crispy treat, I discovered I was within earshot of a perturbed middle-aged lady who deemed our happiest place on earth "ridiculous" because the manager of the Mad Hatter store wouldn't allow "P. Diddy" to be stitched on a mouse ears hat, as it was the name of a rapper. I went through a list of disallowed names myself before someone unwittingly stitched "Kool Moe Dee" onto my hat so pimp.

No one wanted to go on the Jungle Cruise in Adventureland. Too bad for the suckers who preferred to wait an hour to ride Space Mountain. Nothing rouses a venturesome spirit like the redolence of hot dogs coating the air as you're travelling down the dangerous Nile, shooting anything that's got eyeballs on him. That night, I dreamt of grilling franks in Africa.

Even the happiest place on earth couldn't keep me from frowning when I saw that It's a Small World was closed for maintenance. It wasn't a small world, after all: it was a shitty world, a shitty, shitty world.

Things got shittier when I saw for myself that people were no longer moved along the lines where the PeopleMover once moved. In the twenty-eight years that it provided low to moderate enjoyment to Disneyland goers, only two people died after boarding it. This was not the fault of the PeopleMover, however. This was the fault of the two people who hadn't the capacity to supplement the imaginatively open ride and therefore chose to cast themselves from the 2 mph travelling carts to extinguish their anguished boredom forevermore. I wonder if it worked.

The happiest place on earth? Barely. From the monorail above I witnessed with great horror that my beloved Submarine Voyage was no longer. Once a deep sea wonder filled with giant oysters and mythical mermaids, the space was now a parched tract, awaiting the installation of a stupid fish named Nemo, along with his wide-eyed Pixar cast of imagination destroyers.

Soles heavy, I trudged over to Star Tours, a Star Wars inspired simulated ride, which I, as a child, waited two hours in line to experience. No line this time, but I remembered the meandering path well, and it occurred to me that Tron really was a frightful movie and that Ewoks should never die under a pile of rocks when a child is watching.

On the whole, Disneyland remains pretty aight. I really like that ride where you sit on a boat going 1 mph and sail into a whale's mouth like Pinocchio.

Monday, November 7

You can hear it in your sleep too!

It's a Small World

It's a world of laughter
A world of tears
It's a world of hopes
And a world of fears
There's so much that we share
That it's time we're aware
It's a small world after all

There is just one moon
And one golden sun
And a smile means
Friendship to every one
Though the mountains divide
And the oceans are wide
It's a small world after all

It's a small world after all
It's a small world after all
It's a small world after all
It's a small, small world

Wednesday, November 2

Pumpkin Thoughts

People can't get enough Starbucks out here. Starbucks serves holiday-flavored drinks: eggnog, pumpkin spice, gingerbread, and my current addiction, turkey gizzard. I was a Starbucks barista for Halloween. I was not popular. I wanted to be a hackneyed pimp instead. Halloween is...tricky. Insert your laughter here. That better be genuine or else the Halloween Hag will come get you in your mother's kitchen on Thanksgiving night. You will be exposed for pumpkin hoarding. I will be the victor, somehow. Me, the victor, in my hackneyed pimp costume.