Disneyland - Tomorrowland - 1979 vs. 2008

Set the Wayback Machine to 1979 and hang on.

In the distance we see the main entrance to Tomorrowland. It appears to be around the Christmas season, as the poinsettias are adorning the lamp posts on Main Street.

Our eye catches primary colors of black, crisp white and red. The yellow and blue hues of the Peoplemover cars mix with the green benches and the red and yellow flowers in the main planter of the Hub (foreground).

There is no Partners statue blocking our view across the Hub.

There is no Astro Orbiter rudely intruding between us and the curved split of the Peoplemover track.

The flagpole at the entrance to Tomorrowland lines up perfectly with the Rocket Jets in the background.

Our eye (and our interest) is drawn forward into the heart of Tomorrowland, like the camera lens is drawn through the cels in a multiplane camera.
As we flash forward to 2008, we notice some changes to this area of the Park. For one thing, you can't really see Tomorrowland anymore amidst the confusion of shapes, colors and foliage. Like a neighbor's overgrown backyard fence, the visual cues tell us: "keep out."

We see that the colorful flower beds have been replaced with green shrubs with jagged rocks goring through and out of them, like the creature in Alien making its big entrance.

What color are those rocky juttings? Purple, gold, rust, magenta, burnt sienna? It's like all the crayons you never wanted to use have melted together.

And where's Walt's wienie?

I never thought I'd ask that question, but you true believers know what I mean.

This isn't it, is it?
Can anyone give me a hint as to what this thing is supposed to be?

Did Tomorrowland sign up for DirecTV?

Has Captain Nemo misplaced his harpoon?

Did JPL clear out its attic?

Did Radio Shack have a 70% clearance sale on rusty satcom dishes?

And why am I even bothering to look at it?

Frankly, I look there because my eyes want to fill in that space above the Peoplemover station. Even if you had never in your life seen the Rocket Jets located in their proper position in Tomorrowland, something inside you would nonetheless instinctively telegraph your brain that something is wrong with the picture you are seeing. The hunk of junk in the middle is not big enough, for one thing. You eye sees it as too squat for the base on which the junk is mounted. Its central location in the geography of Tomorrowland sends signals to your aesthetic sense (come on, most of us have one) that a taller shape belongs here.

Folks, Disneyland was designed and laid out by artists first. Then engineers tried their best to make things fit the vision. Artists and filmmakers know about perspective.

Somehow, in the redesign of Tomorrowland, Disney forgot its basic principles of design (and color).

Take a gander at another shot of the main entrance area from 1979. There is a mixture of art and science (mostly art) which combines for a beautiful, eye-pleasing result.

Elements like the curve of the Peoplemover track and its arching supports, the shiny wall, the geometric planters, the contrast between light and dark, the curving bands of yellow and purple flowers surrounding proud birds of paradise, and the bright yellow cars of the Peoplemover all work together, like a painting or a sculpture, to create a satisfied response in the human viewer.

Today, the track remains, but everything else has been dumped out with the bathwater.

Is the shining silver wall there? Not like it used to be. Ack.

What the heck is the color of the track of the Peoplemover (excuse me, Rocket Rods; oh pardon me, the attraction formerly known as the Rocket Rods) today?

Is your eye pleased by it?

Where are the flowers?

In case you've forgotten---or worse yet, never had the opportunity to see them in the first place---here is a shot of one of the large main entrance flower beds.

I can see why they got rid of them.

Why waste time and space with flower beds when you can have jagged rocks blocking your view and clogging traffic?

Ah. The simple beauty of this new approach clearly trumps yesterday's stale old flora.

Disneyland - Carnation Plaza Gardens - A Lament

Gone.

But never forgotten.

Carnation Plaza Gardens at the northwest corner of the Hub was a great food service location throughout its history.

Now its famous band shell sits alone, the food is gone and Plaza Gardens has become a walk-through area (leading to the Plaza Zocalo and Frontierland).

Sure, there are still some tables over there (and some red and white umbrellas), but why? Guests who come to enjoy the entertainers in the band shell have no place to grab a hot dog, fries, an ice cream or a drink (absent a trek down Main Street or into Frontierland).

Plaza Gardens has special meaning to an old sweeper, since I would walk through this area every day on the way to Custodial Control---Day Custodial's main office. There was a door to the back area just to the left of the food service location pictured above. I think it's still there, actually, but I'd have to go back and check during my next visit to be sure. Anyway, I purchased many a Coke and a cup of coffee on my way past Plaza Gardens while heading for my assigned area. The bussers and food service people in this area were familiar faces.

Inexplicably, Plaza Gardens has been stripped down to only its famous stage and canopy. I imagine this was for "traffic flow" purposes, since the West Side of the Park is devastated nightly by the Fantasmic show (so perfectly themed to FRONTIERLAND!) and an additional means of egress is necessary to help funnel the hordes trying to escape New Orleans Square and Frontierland after the show lets out. A traffic tunnel has been carved out and the former Casa de Fritos location was greatly expanded---both of which occupy the area where Custodial Control's little offices were located.

Sure, the traffic moves more smoothly now. Sure, the bathrooms are bigger and better than they used to be. Sure, there are a lot less french fries on the ground.

But I must admit to an emptiness inside when I stray through this area today. It is similar to the feeling I get when I walk past the Aladdin travesty that was once the Tahitian Terrace. Or hear Tarzan's jungle call as I struggle through the crowd in front of what was once the Swiss Family's treehouse.

Maybe you know this feeling. If you are a long-time Disneylander, I'll bet you do.

You know, it is that bilious feeling when you get to the end of Main Street and make a right turn into what used to be the open, flower-filled entrance to Tomorrowland and instead you collide into rust-colored jutting rocks and a mangled version of what used to be the Rocket Jets. And you think, "Who in the hell thought that taking the Rocket Jets down from their tower in the center of Tomorrowland and moving them to Main Street (in FRONT OF the Peoplemover tracks) would be a good idea???!!"

Or that feeling when you search in vain for Circlevision 360 or glance skyward in Fantasyland for the colorful cars of the Skyway.

It is how you feel when you see that Mission to Mars has become a foul-smelling, poorly air-conditioned Pizza Planet.

It is the difference between the disaster of Light Magic (and all its funky lighting fixtures that have now clogged both sides of the skyline on the path leading to It's a Small World) and the unbridled warmth and joy of The Main Street Electrical Parade.

It is Winnie the Pooh taking over Bear Country and cruelly hanging Max, Buff and Melvin, now forever motionless on the wall, as a testament to the coup.

It is Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln becoming A Few Moments With Mr. (Steve) Martin.

It is Toontown.

It is Jack Sparrow.

It is Jack Skellington.

It is a rotting Keel Boat.

It is a Festival of Fools.

It is Chevron taking over the Autopia (pull out some pictures of the old attraction's vehicles and layout and compare them to what is there today).

It is Innoventions instead of America Sings.

It is the People Mover traded out for Rocket Rods.

It is the empty waters of the Motor Boat Cruise.

It is the Hungry Bear Restaurant looking kinda lonesome and out of place in Critter Country.

It is what brought you the (thankfully) temporary pastel paint job on the facade of It's a Small World and what may be behind whatever they are doing to that attraction as we speak! Poor Mary Blair!

It is Cascade Mound instead of Cascade Peak.

It is knowing that the proud Columbia and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad somehow once became lethal.

If you do not know the feeling, consider yourself fortunate.

If you do, you have company.

Of course, the Park remains magical and always will.

I always expected it to grow and add new things, but never at the expense of what it means to be truly Disneyland.

I think the new regime might finally be getting the picture. The re-opening of the walk through attraction in Sleeping Beauty's Castle is one of many steps recently taken back toward the core of Disneyland. The Subs, after all, are back. And the Park is immaculately clean as of late.

Here's to every step in the right direction! And a fond farewell to many things and places that are no more. Adieu.

Disneyland 1984 - Donald Duck's 50th Birthday Celebration - Press Kit Materials

1984.

The Olympics Summer. The summer of Ghostbusters. The year when George Orwell's "Big Brother" was supposed to be watching us. The year before Disneyland would celebrate its 30th anniversary.

The year Donald Duck turned 50.

Disneyland even had a parade for him.

While not exactly pulling out all the stops---after all, he isn't exactly Mickey Mouse---Walt Disney Productions did make something of Donald's 50th birthday, as found within the pages of the press kit that WDP distributed in advance of the big event (the cover of which is pictured here to the left---click on these photographs to see the large-sized scan in its entirety).

These press kit pages are fairly rare, I imagine. I hung onto them after they were sent to me in my capacity as the editor of our school's newspaper in 1983-84.

Frankly, I don't know how many newsrooms kept their kits, but I suspect most tossed them at some point during the last 24 years.

Anyway, here are the contents of the press kit, as distributed by Disneyland's Supervisor of Publicity in 1983, Lorraine Santoli. We begin with black and white photographs that were to accompany articles on Donald's birthday.

I particularly like the photographs of Walt Disney and of Clarence "Ducky" Nash, both of whom had a pretty close working relationship with Donald over the years.Without Mr. Nash's amazing vocal skills, I doubt strongly that Donald would today be counted among the "Fab Five" of Disney's most famous cartoon characters (and we're not talking about Pocahontas, Quasimodo, Brother Bear, Milo James Thatch -- of Atlantis fame---and Maggie---from Home on the Range, if you know what I mean).

The kit included was a 4-page background entiteld "Donald Duck Celebrates 50th Birthday," which is reproduced for you below in its entirety.

It provides a host of information on Donald in a fairly short amount of copy.

Click on the scans for a better view and read for yourself Donald's "official" story that WDP caused to be distributed for general release in 1983. Donald's "Official" birthday was linked to the June 9, 1934 release date of The Wise Little Hen, one of the famous Silly Symphonies that Disney produced in the 1930s. 1935's The Band Concert is still my personal all-time favorite Mickey Mouse cartoon and was also released during the same general era---it shows a somewhat evolved Donal Duck who has most all the elements of his "character" firmly in place only about a year after his debut.

Disneyland held a daytime parade for Donald's 50th. It was a pretty stock "character" parade, as I recall. I think you might even be able to see snippets of it on Youtube.com (search "Donald Duck's 50th Birthday Parade" and you should find it).

I remember being part of the post-parade clean up crew on Main Street. We would gather at the Hub with a group of sweepers and a couple of motorized vacuums (they looked like big lawnmowers). Two or three sweepers with push brooms would strike out ahead of the vacuums and begin sweeping confetti or parade debria from the curbs toward the middle of the street. The vacuum operators would follow along and pick up the debris.

We were kind of our own little "parade" after the Parade. It was noisy and created quite a commotion, but old Main Street was cleaned up in less than half an hour and back to its "pre-parade" spotlessness.

This past June our friend Donald turned 74 and we wish him many happy returns.

Sadly, "Ducky" Nash passed away in February 1985, only a few short months after Donald's 50th birthday year ended. Thanks to Mr. Nash for brightening our lives with his talent.

I hope that you devoted Jungle readers have enjoyed the chance to peek at this press kit.

Disneyland Custodial Department - 1980 Information Booklet For Hosts and Hostesses

Today, let us return to Disneyland and its famed Custodial Department circa 1980. If you made it past the screening process and were hired into Custodial as a Host or Hostess, you would receive training. Walt himself promised his wife that Disneyland would not be dirty like most amusement parks. This promise carried over into the training and procedures that were passed down to the members of the Custodial team.

Reproduced below are selected pages from the information booklet that was given to Day Custodial cast members who were hired in the 1980 - 85 time period. I am sure you will get an indication from reviewing this booklet why it was that "Disneyland is synonymous with the word cleanliness" and "The cleanliness of the Park is one of the most common compliments received."

The opening and closing routines were something all of us had to do at one point or another. Either you were assigned an opening or closing shift as your "regular" shift for the summer, or you would occasionally be assigned to fill in for an opening or closing shift. As for me, closing shifts were the best. It was great to be the last person in your area at the end of the day (along with your lead and one or two other sweepers).

As you can see, even mundane events such as the handling of vomit and horse droppings made their way into the manual back then. I manned the "honey bucket" on many parades during my days in Custodial. Of course, on Main Street it was a routine occurrence to clean up after one of our powerful trolley pullers. Those horses were trained to urinate at a spot directly in front of the Castle (where the trolley loaded) and we had a special deodorizing liquid that we would spray there to help keep the area from becoming too offensive. Mosts guests were somewhat surprised that Disney horses engage in natural waste eliminating activities. I suppose they expected that Walt and his crew had imagineered a way around them. Sadly for us sweepers, they had not.

Here's to our quadrupedal friends on Main Street and the many times they helped to keep me humble!

Main Street - 1984 - Meeting "Arthur"

I first met Arthur in 1984 while covering a day shift on Main Street.

I was in Day Custodial and my assignment was to sweep the Hub. Arthur was a charming old fellow who had been coming to Disneyland for just about ever, it seems. He was a guest and he showed up almost daily at the Park. He would shuffle slowly and steadily down Main Street until he found his spot along the curb (usually on the east side of the street, in front of the Plaza Pavilion). He would then spread out his old afghan blanket and set down his bag and cane. Arthur would sit down on the curb and wait for the afternoon parade. He would come back for the first showing of the Main Street Electrical Parade many times, too.

Arthur loved Disneyland and all the cast members I knew loved Arthur. I dug around but could not locate a photograph that had been taken of Arthur with several of my sweeper friends. Too bad, I would love for you to have at least been able to meet him in a picture.

One of the "old timers" I worked with on Main Street was a sweeper named Helmuth. Arthur, who had yet to learn my name when we first met, would always, always ask me: "Where's Yomo? Heoff today? Heezoff. Heezoff."

"Yomo" was Arthur's best attempt at pronouncing "Helmuth." Arthur would then dutifully ask me, "You busy today?" and note: "Busy day" or "Slow today," depending on the number of guests in the Park.

Arthur was a character. A little slow and in his early 70s, he had a great smile, even despite missing several teeth. A stroke and the aforementioned dentition problems combined to contribute to his unique speech pattern, which sometimes made him hard to understand, but never detracted from his warmth as a person or from his acceptance into the Disneyland family by the Cast Members who knew him. This simple man was much loved. He was at home in the Park and he connected with all who had encounters with him there. Perhaps you met him yourself or walked by as he sat on the curb waiting for the next parade. As a guest, you might have thought him to be a little "off" or perhaps a wayward transient that had somehow gotten past Security. If you noticed him at all it was probably because of his blanket spread out on the ground (he always spread it out enough for two people, even though he only occupied one half of the blanket), his checkered hat (with "Arthur" written across the front) his red windbreaker jacket, and his open-toothed smile. In any event, he was there most days and chances are you may have run into him as you walked along Main Street as a guest in the early to mid 1980s. Hopefully you said hello. He definitely would have responded with a hello of his own.

I came across this article from Ken Pellmanand was happy to see that someone had memorialized Arthur in print and---as shown in this photograph from Ken's article---in brick (apparently, several Cast Members chipped in and bought the brick to honor Arthur---whose full name was Arthur Holmson):
Arthur, I expect you are somewhere right now, enjoying a parade on Main Street or chatting with a cast member at the Park, since Heaven for you must certainly include Disneyland. Here's to you, old friend!

Disneyland Hotel - Summer 1980 Article Brings Back Memories

Today we are beaming back to the Disneyland Hotel of the late 1970s, early 80s. Clicking on the photographs above should bring you to larger versions of the article about the hotel that appeared in the Summer 1980 issue of Disney News.

The photograph of the boy in Mickey's Corner (or perhaps in the Small World of Toys) on page 11 shows a shelf full of future Disneyana merchandise from 28 years ago. For the "Yesterland" types among us, the listing of the hotel shops on page 11 gives us a glimpse of what is no longer there for us when we exit the Monorail outside the berm.

For those without Club 33 passes or membership, one of the only ways to end a dry day at the Park in the early 1980s was to board the Monorail and head to the Disneyland Hotel. There you could step up to the bar at places like the Shipyard Inn or Sargeant Preston's Yukon Saloon and Dance Hall. You could enjoy a cocktail, perhaps more than one, and then amble back to the Monorail to return to the Park.

Of course, before returning to the Park you could also take in the shops, which were not far from the Monorail station at the hotel. They were very quaint and it felt like you were stepping back into the '60s or '70s as you walked there. It was also nice to get away from the crowd over at Disneyland and walk the grounds of the hotel. You could stroll past the marina and over to the waterfalls and walkways of the Bonita Tower. At least the waterfalls are still there (though the Bonita has been renamed the Wonder Tower).

In any event, Don Ballard is the man (and his site is the site) to go to for information and photographs documenting the Disneyland Hotel's history. Check out his site (http://www.magicalhotel.com/) and maybe think about buying a copy of his book, Disneyland Hotel: The Early Years, 1954-1988, if you wish to learn more. Thanks for the great work, Don!

Disneyland Musings - Volume 3 - Nights In The Wheelhouse

[Thanks to John Perry for his clear scan above].

The Mark Twain costume consisted of a crisp white shirt, a red string tie, a navy vest, navy pants, and a captain's cap. On cold evenings in the fall, a wool pea coat rounded out the costume. Up in the wheelhouse, I would wave down to the guests on the Frontier Landing. As we got under way, we would let a family come up and join me. I would let their child (or children) have a crack at "steering" the vessel with the large wooden wheel. They would be permitted to tug at the steam whistle as we rounded the New Orleans bend and then they would pull on the bell rope. Such simple events were universally (and deeply) enjoyed by both the kids and their parents. It made my job enjoyable (as if it weren't already). At the end of the trip, I'd pull out a "Pilot's Certificate" from the desk in the wheelhouse and fill it out for my most recent "assistant." This little "plus" made the attraction all the more special for those few guests who had the opportunity to come up and steer for a while. Here is a nice photo essay on the view from the wheelhouse.

On a slow night, we would pick up a small group of passengers and steam gently down the Rivers of America. Our proud sternwheeler was sparkling with lights along its decks. The water was dark and still and reflected our brightness in swirling, sparkling waves that fanned out from our bow. I would listen to the narration and dutifully sound our whistle and bells (one short blast and one long one as we got under way, with a round of bells following). Upon our return I would blast the whistle and ring the bells as we neared Cascade Peak. Then it was down the stairs to the main deck where I would help our guests disembark.

During those magical night trips around the river, there were some wonderful quiet moments, especially as we floated by the Hungry Bear restaurant and into the "wilderness." We would wave at the passengers on the Disneyland Railroad as their train clicked by along the river's edge. Our lighted decks illuminated the trees and fauna along the banks. There was the old Chief raising his hand slowly in solemn greeting atop his fine horse. The warm glow of the flames from the settler's cabin appeared on our starboard side and the wheelhouse filled with orange and yellow. For a few moments out there in the back country, you were immersed in the experience. You really were on some American river, on a sternwheeler, seeing Indians and wildlife on your way to a river port with a load of cotton. You heard the steam churning the pistons that powered our massive propulsion wheel. You heard the water splashing behind us and saw the reeds of the shoreline slipping past. On all decks, no matter where you were, you felt it. It was real. If only for a time.

In the summer, we would stop our vessel out here in the back country. It was dark and wonderful. Above the trees to the port side, the sky would erupt in explosions of color and sound as the Fantasy In The Sky fireworks show began. The Fireworks Cruise was one of those Disneyland "secrets" that even seasoned cast members relished. I always hoped that my place in the rotation would have me piloting the Mark Twain for the Fireworks Cruise during my shift. As I think of it now, there was no better spot in all the world to view the fireworks. We were stopped and we shut off our lights. The trees in that area of the river were tall, established and kept things nice and dark. Consequently, the bursts of fireworks above the tree tops were all the more brilliant. Most of our passengers were in the know, but the few who weren't were instantly amazed and pleasantly surprised when they learned why the ship suddenly stopped and went dark. No, were weren't "101." We were providing a special "plus" to our guests.

After Fantasmic arrived on the scene, the Fireworks Cruise ceased to be. Indeed, nightly cruises were almost completely a thing of the past. This lessened the magic of the river. New Orleans at night without the Mark Twain rolling into view, with its decks ablaze in lights, is missing something. The throngs massed along the river's edge for the nightly Fantasmic showing don't know what they're missing. For those of us fortunate enough to have made one or two Fireworks Cruises on the Mark Twain in our day, the memories are sweet.

Disneyland - Tahitian Terrace - Summer 1980 Article

Today's post takes us back to the Summer of 1980 and a brief article about my beloved Tahitian Terrace that appeared as a two-page spread in both the Disneyland Vacationland magazine (Summer 1980, Vol. 24, No. 2---at pages 14-15), published 3 times a year by Walt Disney Productions, Disneyland Division, and in Disney News (the official magazine for the Magic Kingdom Club - Summer 1980, Vol. 15, No. 3---at pages 2-3, shown below)---Note the identical cover photographs; the content of the two publications was not completely identical, however.
The above article ignited my nostalgia. Ah, there was definitely excitement in the air in Adventureland when the drums of the Tahitian Terrace Polynesian Revue began their rythmic rumbling. The smell of chicken teriyaki and pineapple drifted through the foliage as you made your way into Adventureland, just past the Enchanted Tiki Room. The Tahitian Terrace was sponsored by Kikkoman International, Inc. and its famous soy sauce. The article provides a nice one-paragraph history of soy sauce ("undoubtedly man's oldest prepared condiment") for those who need to fill in this blank in their knowledge base.

As for me, I love the photographs, which detail the stage, the dancers and, of course, the food. The fire dancer depicted at the top right of page 1 is a bit smaller than the fellow who was performing in that role at the time of the infamous "black footed rock hopper" incident at the Jungle Cruise, as chronicled earlier in this blog.

Of course, for those of you who long for a taste of the Tahitian Terrace, the article offers us a culinary time machine by providing a recipe for Chicken Teriyaki like that served at the restaurant.

Leafing through the Summer 1980 Vacationland magazine also called to mind a list of places, people and things that aren't here anymore:

• Wonder Bread
• Disneyland ticket books (Big 11 - $8.50/adult; Deluxe 15 - $9.25/adult; General Admission - $7.00/adult)
• Harvey Korman (who starred in Herbie Goes Bananas alongside Cloris Leachman---the movie was released in 1980)
• Movieland Wax Museum
• Hanna-Barbera's Marineland
• the Main Street Electrical Parade---on Main Street (nightly at 8:50 p.m. and 11:30 p.m.)
• the shops of the old Disneyland Hotel
• a good portion of the "New York Street" area of Universal Studios' famous back lot (lost to a recent fire)
• Walt Disney Productions (now known as The Walt Disney Company) and, of course,
  
• the Tahitian Terrace itself.

Later, I'll try and post some of the old ads from the magazine---they're a real treat.

As for now, a fond Aloha! to our lost (but never forgotten) friend, the Tahitian Terrace.

Disneyland 1987 - The "Disney Look" For Cast Members

Well, Disneylanders, if our time machine has dropped us in 1987 and we want to work at the Park, let's make sure that we at least meet the grooming requirements. To help you in this process, please review the brochure below entitled The Disney Look. I actually worked with several of the folks pictured in these pages, by the way. See anyone you recognize?


[By the way, it took WED's resources and a talented team of Imagineers to develop and maintain Robert's hair---pictured above. It's hard to find that kind of Disney magic today].