Due to a shortage of time, today's post is presented, ala James Joyce, via stream-of-consciousness observations based upon my 1983 Disneyland wall map, among other things, and more trips to the Park than I can ever fully hope to remember...
"Your attention, please! The Disneyland Limited now arriving..."
Ghouls beckon from the wall poster in the tunnel.
I hear a squeaky stroller wheel. The warm sun makes the green benches smoothly shiny.
Feathered hooves coconut clop and the white pole is so high amidst the bright flower faces at its feet.
To all who come.
The blue sky domes highly and the shops bustle with a by-gone sensibility.
Hello, Mr. Dinglinger?
Miss Flump? Auralee Flump? Will you please get offa this line? Now, I know you're there 'cause I can hear your clock tickin', and it sounds like it's slow, too.
The smell of the roasted beans mixes with wrapped sucker sticks and taffy.
A bell "ding dings" outside the doorway.
Across the small street, candy canopy umbrella tables grandly dance o'er the huddled patrons in their midst. Toasted smells waft down the small alleyway.
The old gray mare she ain't what she used to be swirls in the background of one's hearing from the keys of an unseen piano.
Trolley tracks under foot, mind your ankles!
Glass and crystal sparkle castle-ly shapes and spidery lines.
Green satin bloused Esmeralda floats her hand over the deck and whispers of future things unseen.
Green metal posts twist like candy canes to gas lit bowls draped with triangle banners and fringed with balls of flowers.
A trolley bell rings "pardon me, coming through" while the lights chase each other around Coke Corner.
Crunch and toffee, caramel and fudge, waft unseen to one's nostrils.
Yellow and white.
Pink and blue.
Red, white and blue.
Skinny trees along walkways spatter shade and leaf.
The Hub spreads its arms like a splayed octopus at the foot of the Castle.
Pink and blue again.
Red and white.
Carnation flowers and ice cream.
Water flows 'neath wooden planks.
For the one I love.
To find me.
To find me.
Logs stand tall and pointed and rustic.
The long steam whistle haunts the distance with its mournful happy call.
The white peak erupts a roar.
Screams and laughter flash by.
Funny plastic boxes on wheels glide over the entrance.
Glistening points shoot skyward at either side.
Will I go on shrinking...forever?
Yellow and purple and green flowers almost blind the eye in their brilliance.
A green, tall bus full of faces chugs by.
Rainbow balloons cling together in an inverted pyramid clutched by a yellow and red clad girl with black hair and blue eyes.
Green iron railings hug beds of flowers and shrubs.
"Let's go this way!"
"Wait for me!"
The smell of coffee and pretzels and popcorn and old green water and duck and swan mix with pineapple and waffle cones and diesel and heaven knows.
People and laughter and children and crying and strollers and hats, funny shaped hats, all moving and walking and spreading over the scene like wayward sheep or dandelion stems on the breeze.
Wonder and peace and joy and sweat and aching feet with tearful tired children scooped into parents' arms and onto shoulders and into stroller seats.
The night darkens and the trees develop tiny sparkles of light.
The street is aglow with yellow lights.
Outlining the buildings on either side.
The crowd grows and fills. Anticipation pants and breathes and looks skyward.
Bursts of color splash the night sky and spread into a hundred arms of flickering, shimmering flecks of light.
Drifting and smoking and falling.
Music is everywhere.
The children ooh and ahh with their parents.
The crowd wells up as the sparkling little spirit glides o'er castletop.
There she goes!
More bursts of color and booms that resound in your chest and make the little ones clap hands to their ears.
Then silence and wafting smoke.
Yawns and sleepy small faces.
Cries and more yawns.
"It's been a big day."
"Let's say good-bye for now."
A horde ambles on heavy feet toward the tunnels, filling the street and the curbs and marching, exhausted, onward---toward home.
One more line.
A child dazed and drooling dangles over a shoulder, eyes rolling under heavy lids---trying not to let go of the day and the sights and the excitement.
Just a minute more.
The roar of a big diesel rends the night and yellow and blue seats beckon the weary.
Please keep your balloons in your lap so the driver can see.
We hope you had a wonderful and memorable time in this happy place.
"Were we in "Pinocchio" or "Goofy"?
"I see it! There's the car!"
Key in ignition.
The engine hums and the car heads homeward, as though it knows the way.
Children slumber in seats.
The road smoothly bumps and sighs beneath.
Aching calves and backs of knees remind parents of their advancing mortality.
Father turns to mother, and knowing, tired smiles are exchanged.
This was a happy day.
(With deep apologies to Mr. Joyce and all who love literature).