A Day At Disneyland

Yes, I'm happy.  I'm happy that I made it through all the traffic from West Hollywood to Anaheim. I'm happy I'm past the lines to get into the theme parks. And I'm really really happy that I'm sitting here eating a funnel cake. I'm not so happy about the little girl sitting next to me with no shirt on who told her father that she wants my funnel cake.

I bought a "park hopper" pass, which gets me into both Disneyland and California Adventure. I'm currently in the middle of "A Bug's Land."  The bugs seem to be happy.

I'm rejecting all negative thoughts, like wondering if people are asking, "Why is that creepy old man all alone at Disneyland?" Or asking myself that question. Or asking what happened to Mickey's fifth fingers.

Another family just walked by.  Instead of asking about me, the little girl, being carried by her mother, asked, "Why does that girl have her shirt off?"  Without a beat, her mother responded, "Because they're white trash, Honey." That made me very happy.  Almost spit-up-my-funnel-cake happy.

Having worked for Disney, I know that they go to great lengths to make sure that visitors within the park cannot see anywhere or anything outside the park. I guess a glimpse of the free world (or the freeway) would make them unhappy, reminding them what is to come on the ride home. And that is very much reflected on the giant sign at the entrance which says, "Where elephants fly and time stands still."

I see people posing and laughing with Pluto and Goofy.  They never think about the temperature inside one of those costumes. The "cast members" (as Disney calls all employees) are trained to stay in character, be animated, and never speak while in view of the guests, and I feel so sorry for Goofy who just got poked in the eye by a little boy. Goofy will get over it and the little boy will remember this day as long as he lives.

It's now three hours later.  My feet aren't so happy. I still have neuropathy in them and they're reminding me of that. I have visited It's A Small World, Toon Town, Tomorrow Land, and Adventure Land. I'm now in the middle of My Dogs Are Barking Land, and heading towards I Need To Get The Hell Out Of Here Land.

It's been a great day. I've cried more than once just watching the faces of little kids. It's so much more rewarding than any ride. And I have learned one more enormous way to be happy . . . watch others be happy.

While working for the company, I got a letter from a mother who's little 5-year-old had a terminal illness and he adored Tigger from Winnie The Pooh. So for our next event, I arranged a meeting with the little boy and Tigger. I cried my eyes out watching him, in his wheelchair, get so excited that he couldn't speak. I was embarrassed that I had taken so much time to organize it, and then one of the executives praised me and said that was the basis of the entire company. It still makes me happy to think about it.