Disneyland - Cold, Damp Nights

A closing shift at the Park during the winter, Christmas season or New Year's Eve can be a cold, damp and wonderful thing.
Let me start by patiently explaining that California's "winter" can manifest itself in an icy moisture that breathes frostily deep into your joints.
It gets your toes cold to the point where only a warm bath will bring them back.
No snow, for sure.
No twenty below.
No windchill worth mentioning.No ice scraper for the windshield.
No plugging in your car so your radiator and battery won't freeze.
No gummy snowboots or galoshes.

But it gets you.

I'm from western Pennsylvania.I have lived in South Bend, Indiana......in January.
I have been on the shores of Lake Michigan in Chicago, tiny icebergs at my feet, a ceaseless gust in my face and snow several feet deep all around.I have been in "lake effect" snow.
Freezing rain.
Ice storms.
Winter mornings before dawn when my jeans were stiff from ice.
So were my socks.
Been through a whiteout on a lonely stretch of central Indiana interstate during a blizzard.
Watched a Notre Dame game from the top of the stadium on a day when the sheets of rain turned to sleet and then to mushy snow.
I have stepped off my grandmother's porch as a tiny lad and been swallowed into snow drift there off the porch steps.
I can still feel the fluffy, icy and muffling snow around me.
Good thing my uncle happened by, just as this occurred, to safely pluck me from my predicament.
I am not a California creampuff.
Neither was Mark Twain.He toughed out some of the coldest weather one could imagine and yet he found California to host the most chilling. He famously noted, "The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco."
What I am trying to hint at is that I am no stranger to the cold winter thing.

Now, I offer the foregoing for those Easterners and Mid-westerners who swear to high heaven that they can tough out any winter in shirt sleeves and shorts. They smugly smirk at Californians who bemoan a dip into the 40s and a little sprinkle of misting rain.
Yeah, I'm talking to you in Buffalo and up there in Green Bay.
Let me tell you.
California winters are amazingly,
surprisingly,
cold and damp.
You see, in Green Bay, or Pittsburgh, or Buffalo or South Bend, when you step into the house or your car from 15-below-zero temperatures, you are instantly warm.You immediately tear off your parka and sweatshirt and long underwear once you are back indoors because otherwise you will die of heat stroke.
This is "dry" cold.
In California, along the shores of the Pacific, an oceanic wetness sets into the winter air.
Especially after about 1o:30 p.m.
It sets a chill that seems to come from the inside out.
It can even get at you indoors.It finds its way through sweaters and most jackets.
It creeps numbingly into fingers, toes, ears necks and noses.
A damp cold.
A reach-for-the-beer-at-the-bottom-of-the-ice-chest kind of cold.

So...
...I think you get a sense of what you face at the Park on a closing shift during a California winter's night.

Over on Jungle, the scarves and gloves come out, along with the jackets. The condensation glistens across your boat's bow. Your .38 revolver chills your hand as you reach to reload it with numbed fingertips. Your breath clouds around the P.A. mike. If you are on the dock, you try to keep your body moving between boats---which are fewer and farther between at night, especially in the winter (after all, a charging African Bull Elephant does not leap into the minds of most guests as an attraction option when the weather gets cold, dark and damp).

On Main Street, if it was a fireworks night, the guest control cast members would be bundled in the most fabulous of Disneyland costume pieces---the heavy wool peacoat---which is modeled perfectly and shamelessly below by a certain member of this blog's editorial staff.You would see these old peacoats on the Mark Twain operators and Disneyland Railroad conductors, too. It was one of the few clothing items that could combat the cold well. The peacoats had not changed for years, though the Park has now gone to a "fleece" version that is no doubt cheaper, but definitely less insulating. If there was one item I wish I could have taken home with me when I left for the last time---it was the peacoat. I dug the "Disneyland" patch stitched into the left breast of the coat.

Since most cast member positions within the Park are of the outdoor variety, standing outdoors in a chilled dampness for six or eight hours can take its toll. Fortunately, we got to move around a lot if we were on guest control. Indeed, the main reason for the coned flashlight on such nights is not so much to direct guests, but more to generate warmth by the constant back-and-forth motion of one's upper extremity.

After closing or the end of your shift, you would trudge back to your exit (which for most of us was Harbor House), stopping by your locker on the way to grab your backpack or whatever you brought with you before your shift began. In the old days, you would walk out into the cast member parking lot along Harbor Boulevard and watch your breath fog ahead of you as you found your car. Its windshield would have a film of dew. You would open your door and sit down (often for the first time in over six hours). The seat would be cold. The inside of the windshield would be fogged. You would start the engine, hit the windshield wipers, and wave a goodbye to fellow cast members walking to their cars. Put it in drive and pull out onto Harbor Boulevard, heading homeward.

About five or ten minutes into your trip, the car would warm up and you could actually turn on your heater. The streets would be empty after a closing shift. You would feel the warmth slowly build around you. Back to the "real world." Still, I miss those quiet, late evening or early morning commutes home from the Park on cold nights. More so, I remember how great it felt to get home to a warm bed or a brandy (or both). Some things, of course, never change.

Let the East Coast versus West Coast "who has the colder winter" debate begin.

I tossed in my two cents.

---Mike

Disneyland - Frontierland Shooting Arcade - 1987

I worked the "new" Frontierland Shooting Arcade at a time when Disney Dollars made their debut and a detailed western scene with light sensitive "targets" had been installed in place of the old shooting gallery.

At the time, the Arcade cast member would wear the Big Thunder costume and carry a money sack around the waist, filled with change for those guests whose dollars would not feed into the change machine. It was my only money handling position during my tenure at the Park. I remember the crisp feel and weird look of Disney Dollars. I kept thinking: someone's GOT to counterfeit these somewhere along the way. Some folks loved them. Some thought they were a cheesy money making gimmick: let's see, give us $20 "real" dollars and we will give you $20 Disney Dollars. They can be used the same as cash anywhere within Disneyland. Or, they can end up a souvenir. I wonder how many of those pieces of paper are still in circulation today.

Back to our riveting story.

The main duty of the Arcade cast member was to assist guests whose change was deposited but their gun failed to operate.

"Hey! I just put my money in there and the coin return isn't working!"

"No problem. I will fix it for you and we'll have you blastin' away in no time."

Then I would walk behind the door at the far western end of the Arcade and go to the computer. I would select the gun the guest was using and reset it. Next, I would walk over to the gun and guest and ask them to give it a try. Most of the time, the gun would "fire." The guest would be satisfied and I'd reset the gun again so that they would have a fully "loaded" turn at the gun.

My favorite moments, though, were when I would "test" the guns during those guestless interludes at the Arcade when no one was there. My eyesight was excellent. I loved shooting and was always a good shot. I have to admit, there is an adjustment between a real rifle and one that simply shoots light beams at photo-sensors. Once I got the hang of it though, I could not miss. I got to the point where I could lift any gun along the length of the Arcade, shoulder it and unload it, striking every target effortlessly and in rapid fire succession.

This "handiness" with the guns came from my ability to issue myself as many free rounds as I wanted during the course of my shift. It served a dual purpose of checking the guns for operation and learning how to interface with the Arcarde computer.

But my skill really came in handy for those guests who would demand refunds and insist that their gun was "broken." Don't get me wrong. I'd give them the refund, but as part of the process I would reset the gun and ask them to fire a couple shots. Almost invariably, they would miss (more often than not because the rifle was long, heavy and had the old-fashioned "V" sight that would line up with a round piece of metal at the end of the barrel---you had to hold it pretty still). You also had to know just where to line up the sight on the "target" at which you were aiming so that the light beam would activate the object when you shot at it.

The frustrated guest, feeling vindicated, would hand me the "defective" rifle. I would look down at it for a moment, take a breath, raise it to my shoulder and squeeze off 10 or 15 shots in a row, mowing down every target I came across. The "Ghost Rider" in the sky would rumble across the scene; the cars of the train in the distance would drop---one after an another---as I plucked them off; the crows would set to cawing; the owl would hoot; the dynamite in the old mine would go off---and the mine car would do its little loop from shaft opening to shaft opening; the old bridge would squeak and bend under the footsteps of an unseen "ghost" crossing it; I'd hit the constantly moving shovel (with a light sensor in the middle) and a skeleton would rise from the hole that he was "digging"; the horse in the stable in the tiny town would rear and kick; the bees near the cactus flowers would spring up and start buzzing; the rock balancing precariously in the distance would tilt back and forth; the tin cans would spin and the wagon train wagons would fall.

I would stop and then look back at the guest.

"This gun shoots fine. Here, let me reset it so you can give it another try."

I would hand them back the rifle as they slowly shook their head and blinked in disbelief.

My job here is done, Ma'am. 'Tweren't nothin'. A cast member's gotta do what a cast member's gotta do. Well, Pilgrim, I'm gonna mosey on over to that young feller with the mouse ears. Looks like he's havin' a time with that ol' muzzle-loader. You have yerself a fine day now, y'hear?

In the stillness, the clomp of my Big Thunder boots against the wood plank walkway would fade into the distance as the sun set over Frontierland.

Roll the credits.

---Mike

Disneyland - Where to Eat?

When I think of Disneyland food, my taste memory rarely generates much data. Still, there are some places where I've had food worth mentioning.

The old Carnation Ice Cream Parlor on the west side of Main Street springs to mind. I loved their ice cream sodas. The strawberry soda was served in a tall soda glass with vanilla ice cream, strawberry syrup, whipped cream and a cherry on top. Never had a bad one of those.

The French Market in New Orleans Square and the famous mint juleps at the Mint Julep Bar.

The Plaza Inn seems to offer consistently good food.

The Rancho del Zocalo over in Frontierland has decent Mexican dishes, with good portions. You can almost always find a table, too.

Village Haus in Fantasyland has pretty good turkey sandwiches and salads. You can always get a hamburger. Even the veggie burger isn't half bad. There are usually plenty of tables available, too. Plus, being a holdover from the Pre-Eisner era, it is actually themed well (though, the same can be said for the Rancho del Zocalo, I must admit).

Don't forget the River Belle Terrace---but not just for breakfast! It is actually a great location for a lunch or dinner. Often it is less crowded than you would expect. I think this is because it kinda gets "forgotten," located as it is between two major walkways (Frontierland's riverfront to the north and Adventureland's walkway to the south). They serve great sandwiches and salads, too. Try their New York roast turkey or pulled pork sandwich and I think you will agree.

And in Tomorrowland...

Well, stick to the other lands if you want to eat, let's leave it at that.

While strolling by the remains of the old Motor Boat Cruise in Fantasyland, in the shadow of the majestic Matterhorn, you turkey leg aficionados will find yourselves at home with a relatively new food service location there that specializes in Disney's now famous turkey legs. These are a perfect option for those who want to make like Henry VIII and eat a big leg of meat barehanded while making the rounds of the world's most famous theme park.

Best advice: leave the Park and hit Storytellers Cafe over at the Grand Californian or, if money is no object, throw in the towel and luxuriate in the amazing entrees and elegant, but relaxed atmosphere of the Napa Rose, a Zagat Survey No. 1 choice for four years in a row. Even Guy Fieri dines at Napa Rose---he and his family were seated in the private dining room not far from our table the last time we were there. I don't know if Napa Rose qualifies as a "Diner, Drive-In or Dive," Guy, but the food is simply amazing.

Thank you and we hope you have a wonderful and memorable stay in Walt Disney's Magic Kindgom of Disneyland!

---Mike

Disneyland - Crowded Adventureland - The Treehouse - and A Dry "Rivers of America"

Today I will share with you (again) one of my favorite water elements in Adventureland---the flowing stream under the Swiss Fam...er, uh...Tarzan's Treehouse. The short video snippet above was shot on April 6, 2010 during a recent run to the Park with my fabulous (and patient) family. They have put up with me through many a trip to the Park and to Walt Disney World. Only true Disneyophiles (and their spouses, children or significant others) can understand what that is like.

Anyway, to truly understand the connection I have to the Treehouse waterway (pictured below), you must place yourself, circa 1985-87, at the turnstile to the old attraction (long before that enormously out of place extra tree stump and rope suspension bridge had sprouted up in the midst of perhaps the tightest walkway in all Disney parkdom---see photographic proof of what I mean below).

First, here is a a photo taken on the bridge in front of Pirates, photographed facing directly toward what would have been the "old" Treehouse entrance:
The opposite (or left) side of this pedestrian walkway (as shown in a photo taken again from the Pirates bridge looking eastward into Adventureland toward Main Street) is an equally mangled traffic jam of a pedestrian "pinchpoint," to wit:A photo alone does not do justice to the issue, so here is a short video to aid in your understanding:


Simply put, the crowds in this area are enough to send one to the old infirmary (if you know what I mean):
Anyway, as usual...

I digress.

My point is that, as evening fell over the West Side, the pedestrian traffic in front of the Treehouse and throughout Adventureland would dwindle as folks headed over to Main Street to get seats for the Main Street Electrical Parade and Fantasy in the Sky fireworks show.

The lone cast member standing at the Treehouse turnstile, became an early version of the "Wal-Mart greeter" of the West Side---waving to and chatting with guests and fellow cast members passing by, including sweepers, managers, other attraction operators and outdoor vending types.
An earlier post on this blog shows fellow 80's cast member Jackie Lacey manning (or womanning?) the turnstile position. It is from this position that I spent many an hour greeting, chatting, waving, b.s.-ing, and generally just getting paid to be at Disneyland.
Rough gig.
Doesn't come close to a day behind the desk as a litigator, let me tell you.

Did you know that the Swiss Family Treehouse was based upon a real fig tree that grew along West Street in Anaheim back when Walt decided he wanted a treehouse attraction for the Park? Take a moment to view this link: Forgotten Orange County, The Original Swiss Family Treehouse.

Permit me to close with some shots of the "Rivers of America" as they looked on April 6, 2010. Hmmm. Perhaps these amount to some sort of metaphor for the current state of America?
Oops, as the great Spears was oft to posit, I did it again.
Digression.
Sorry.
I hate it when that happens.
Here you see the "riverfront" by the River Belle Terrace:
And here: is the Mark Twain's landing---absent a few million gallons. See? It is not that deep.
Here is the general area pictured above---only with water. Makes a difference thematically.
Lastly, here is a view of Tom Sawyer's Island from over on Thunder Trail---looking southwest toward New Orleans Square there in the distance.
I hope you have enjoyed today's "Jungle Is 101."
This blog has been brought to you today by the letters "E" and "R" and the letters "A,D,O."
This program has been made possible by the Carolyn Ahmanson Foundation, by the Corporation for Public Broadcasting and by readers like you.

All four (4) of you.

Love,

---Mike

Disneyland - The Folks at Disney Notice Us?

Oh for goodness' sake! Word on the street is that certain higher ups in Disney have taken a liking to this feeble little blog. Seems there's a longing for some "old school" cast member types and attitude.

To these fine people we say: hi! Thanks for stopping by. We're always ready to chat.

Oh yeah, and Mike's free if you ever need him! Feel free to drop him a line.

To the rest of you Jungle devotees, carry on! You are four (4) of the finest people I know (hi, Mom).

Just got back from a trip to the Park today. Crow-ded! I mean like the upper queue in Jungle was STILL going at 6:30 p.m.

Good to see so many folks enjoying the Park.

Buy Disney stock folks.

: )

---Mike

Disneyland - Jungle Cruise - Bumping Into Load - 1981-82

A fivesome of fine lads fearlessly stand their post at front and rear load on the Jungle Cruise dock circa 1981-82 (thanks to old skipper Ed Cunningham for originally sharing this one).

In addition to showing off the snazzy thatched confines of the old main entrance queue, this photo also depicts why Jungle skippers must be nimble of foot as well as lip. When a boat slips from the load dock into the jungle and there is a gap between it and the boat coming up behind it, there is precious little real estate between your friendly boat loaders and over four and a half feet of churning, green, gross jungle river.

I won't say I ever saw a skipper summarily bumped into the water at this position by a devious fellow skipper---or that I was the one doing the bumping (or being bumped). I will say that sloshing back to wardrobe to get a dry set of pants and socks was a long, moist trek. Working the rest of one's shift in wet Red Wing work shoes was no proverbial picnic either.

There have been more than a few guests who were prepared to stroll from the dock into a boat that was no longer there. Thankfully, we dockhands were alert for such wayward folk and---usually---got to them before they obtained a jungle baptism. The most potentially drenching time for guests and skippers was during a "bump" in the rotation, when one skipper would replace another at either load position. As two skippers tried to switch positions at the load station, an overly anxious guest might step past the famous "yellow line" and precipitously near the edge of the dock. This would result in three bodies trying to occupy space meant for only one. The laws of physics dictated that somebody would be going in---or dancing along the edge of the dock like a chimney sweep on the rooftops of London (Coo...what'a sight!). I have often waltzed with a fellow skipper during a bump as we tried to switch places on the tiny dock.

This process was made all the more interesting back in the days when tomfoolery by one's fellow cast members was not merely a remote possibility, but an immutable law of nature.

Rookies and skippers who were generally obnoxious (or woefully late returning from their breaks or lunches) were often targeted for these "accidental" bumps.

The bumper would approach the victim at the load position and say, "Bump." This meant, "I'm taking over, you can rotate to your break." The bumpee would then try to move along the dock while the bumper stepped into the load position. While both bumper and bumpee were making this transition, the bumper would literally bump his fellow skipper (who was invariably on the "outside" edge of the dock) toward the river's edge. As the victim lost their footing, the bumper would grab the handrail at the load position with one hand and the plummeting skipper's arm with the other, catching them just in time. Well, in time enough to let at least one of their legs dip into the river up to the knee.

Then the bumper would act profusely apologetic.

You know, some guys who were so good with the apology, it wasn't until maybe my third trip back to Wardrobe for new pants and socks that I realized maybe, perhaps, I had been the victim of an intentional act.

Today's "Jungle is 101" lesson comes in two parts:

1. Be careful on the dock.
2. Never trust a Jungle skipper to pass up a good opportunity.

---Mike

Disneyland - Mr. Lincoln - Thanks

Dear Disney:

Congratulations! You definitely got this one right. The family and I recently visited Disneyland and saw the re-opened Opera House and "The Disneyland® Story featuring Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln." We at "Jungle is 101" (okay, ME at "Jungle is 101") have long called for Mr. Lincoln's return to Main Street.

Well...he is back.

Fabulously back.

The entire attraction lobby area has been renovated beautifully and spills over into the new Disney Gallery next door. The homage to Disneyland's history that fills the main entrance area of the lobby is well done---with a fabulous model of the Park as it looked on Opening Day, a focal point.

In the large room where the entrance doors to Lincoln Theater are located, you find another gem: a detailed model of the United States Capitol building, complete with tiny lights, windows, columns---the works.

Most importantly, the Lincoln show itself has been redone to great effect. Mr. Lincoln looks downright dapper in his coat and tails. His famously tousled hair is a bit unruly, but not so much as to be a distraction. His eyes are one of the major improvements I noticed. In the past, they were shadowed (intentionally, I would think, since making convincing eyes is one of the trickier elements in animatronics, so keeping them a bit shadowed made them less noticeable). Now, he scans the audience and the eyes are much more visible. The excerpts of his writings and speeches that have been amalgamated for the show still raise hairs and goosebumps. The content of his speech timeless---but amazingly fitting for the times in which we now live.

"At what point, then, is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer, that if it ever reach us, it must spring from amongst us; it cannot come from abroad. If destruction be our lot, we ourselves must be its authors and finishers. As a nation of free men, we must live through all times, or die by suicide."

Strong words for trying times---be it 1863 or 2010.

My sincere thanks to the folks at Disney for an amazingly well done revamp of this classic attraction. Dear reader, if you have not visited Mr. Lincoln yet, make it a point on your next visit to the Park.

Have a great weekend!

---Mike

Disneyland - 1987 - A Flashback Video Montage

Today, we offer you a compact video tour of 1987 Disneyland, direct from Youtube. Check it out.

The clips of 1987 Tomorrowland (including Captain Eo) and the "Gift Giver Extraordinaire" that graced the Main Entrance as a holdover from 1985's 30th Anniversary celebration are great. Also, get a load of the grand Gray Lady---Disneyland's old main parking lot (now rumored to have been replaced with some sort of California-based theme park)---as seen from the Monorail. There are many nuggets crammed into this clip---the Tomorrowland stage at Coke Terrace, the Rocket Jets, the People Mover, the newly-painted yellow Subs, America Sings, the old Bubble-top Monorail, big 80s hair, the Main Street Electrical Parade, Storybookland Canal Boats, Mission to Mars, Big Thunder---but, sadly, my Jungle didn't make the cut.

In any event, it is a great montage and a nice bit of time travel. Thanks to whomever posted this originally! Glad you saved your videotape!

---Mike

Disneyland - Jungle Is "101" - A Brief Hello To Our 4 Readers

Good day, Jungle fans and Disneyland patrons.

We hail our blog followers today, be they from San Rafael, California, Las Vegas, Nevada, Salt Lake City, Utah or Mililani, Hawaii. Indeed, greetings are sent to visitors from as far away as Brisbane in Queensland, Australia, Colombo in Sri Lanka and the primeval forests of Florham Park, New Jersey.

How you all managed to find your way here, I'll never know. Of all the blog joints in all the towns in all the world, you walked into mine. Most stumble here, I suppose, from wayward Google and Yahoo searches.

An orthopaedic surgeon looking for a deal on "casts" gets directed here because of our frequent reference to "cast members" at Disneyland.

Many happen upon one of our many photographs of the Park and its Cast Members through a search of Google Images.

Others are looking for serious jungle tours and eco-adventures and get this site in a search result.

Oops. (But, we DO have piranhas. Strangest thing.)

However it was that you arrived in this corner of cyberspace, this much I can say to you without reservation:

Um, hi.

Come on in.
Can I get you anything?
A drink? A snack?
Make yourself at home.
It's good to see you.
How is your family?
My how you've grown!
Have a seat anywhere.
Sorry the place is a mess, but you would not believe the week we've had around here.
How long are you in town?
When is the last time you made it to Disneyland?

Seriously, we love our readers---especially our four (4) loyal readers (Hi, mom!).

You know who you are.

You are people with discernment.
Unrefined discernment, but discernment nevertheless.
You have an odd interest in the perspective of Disneyland cast members.
You have plenty of time on your hands.
You enjoy long walks on the beach at night.
During a rainstorm.
Wearing flippers and a snorkel.
Perhaps little else.
You rummage.
Through the Internet.
Through garage sales.
Through pawn shops, thrift stores and trash bins.
Perhaps you live with several cats, say 30.
You mumble to yourself repeatedly on street corners.
Aluminum foil wadded into spheroids fascinates you.
Your mind wanders.
Often for days at a time.
Some days, you never get out of your bathrobe,
yet you still make it to the grocery store.
You don't remember where you put your keys or if you took your medication.
Many of you, for some strange reason, are engineers, and therefore you do not dress well and have difficulty communicating with others.
Some collect things.
Like dried glue.
Or Ivory Soap wrappers.
Or flavored stationery (we're not sure about you guys).
One or two of you have been known to frequent 7-11 stores (but only at 6:00 a.m and Midnight---just so you can prove them wrong).
You work for great and storied institutions like Amgen, Southern Methodist University or Del Taco.
You are vaguely aware that someone is watching you.
For several of you, personal hygiene is important, but not a priority.
Some favor the great thinkers: Herman (as in "Pee Wee"), Spears (as in "Britney") and Cyrus (take your pick: Billy Ray or Miley).
You are bold.
Different.
Special.
Unsung.
Unrehearsed.
Unheralded.
Uncertain.
Bewildered.
Bemused.
Befuddled.
Bedraggled.
Aware.
Alert.
And oriented x3.
Your pupils are equal, round and reactive to light and accommodation (these last three are for you EMT and Emergency Room types) .
You reach for the stars.
You soon realize that they are enormous masses of incandescent gases, gigantic nuclear furnaces where hydrogen is made into helium at temperatures of millions of degrees and are light years away, so what the heck are you really reaching for here, hmmm?
You find yourself reading lengthy descriptions of you by random people on the Internet who do not even know you.
You are the future.
You are why we at "Jungle is 101" are paid so handsomely for these posts.

Thank you.
If you are on the Jungle side of the boat, stand up, turn around and you will be helped out by the rear.
Of the boat that is.
Ladies don't get agitated.
Those of you on the dock side, you'll be heading out the front doorway.
But don't go through our windows.
You'll get a window pain.
Trust me, it can be a shattering experience.
Heck, it could be curtains for you.
I "shutter" to think about it.
Bye now!

---Mike

Disneyland - In The Bowels of Village Haus

A while back I made my way to Village Haus for a hamburger.
I recalled my sweeper days when I would enjoy a quick burger at the break room downstairs below the restaurant.
There is a service window for cast members at the far western end of the main counter (it is behind the wall, just inside the service door there).
A diet Coke, Village Haus burger and fries provided me with sustenance on many days.
It was hardly haute cuisine, but it was good enough.
Better yet, it was cool to wind my way through the corridor in the back area and down the stairs. There, in the bowels of the building, was another hallway that led to the break room on the left and restrooms on the right.
Breaks in that windowless room were fluorescent-filled and usually quiet. The room was a pretty good size, with tables and chairs and the obligatory TV set on the wall (usually out of service). Of course, sometimes we would arrange our breaks so that a few of us would head down there together. The company was nice. We always had a good time.

No, there are not tunnels under Disneyland everywhere (like at Disney World).
However, there are a few underground spots---beneath Tomorrowland Terrace and the old America Sings building in Tomorrowland, below New Orleans Square at the old Pit and under Fantasyland and the Village Haus, to name a few.
Lucky me. I have seen them all.

This is Mike, signing off. Enjoy your weekend Jungleteers!

---Mike