I returned to the Park this day, after what was (for me) too long a hiatus.
The fresh paint job on Main Street (and continuing elsewhere, including over at the Golden Horseshoe in Frontierland) literally shone from off the storefronts.
A healthy crowd surged through Disneyland as the 2011 summer season started.
Our middle and youngest daughter took off on a tour of Fantasyland attractions while my wife, son and I wandered to my beloved West Side.
Snaking our way through the throng of guests, we made it to the Mint Julep Bar for a cold and time-honored light green, magic libation.
We found a table along the railing of the French Market, with the Disneyland Railroad chugging into the station immediately behind us.
The hum of conversation, clank of plates and bustle of diners soon faded as the sound of gentle and distinctly American jazz rose to the fore.
The Royal Street Bachelors (2011 version) had taken the small stage and begun to play.
I sat there and was simply at peace.
At home.
At Disneyland.
Good to be back.
My wife looked across the table and could see it in my face. She smiled.
My son, now a sophomore in high school, told us about how he and his best friend now spend more time at the Park sitting, talking and watching than they do riding the attractions.
He is amazed how they now enjoy the Park's atmosphere and, say, a quiet table on the porch of the Plaza Pavilion as much as, if not more than, a trek with Indiana Jones or a rollicking ride on Big Thunder.
One other moment caught me during our visit that I suppose is worth sharing.
I was seated at a table in the Village Haus, alone and facing one of its windows.
Through the leaded glass of the window, I could see Fantasyland, Casey Junior, Village Haus umbrella tables, tall pine trees and vibrant flower beds, and a stream of guests moving in the foreground.
Deja vu?
Not quite.
But I was taken by how vividly then I was transported back to the Village Haus in 1984, looking out that same window.
I felt myself blink back and forth between then and now, while seated in my chair.
I half expected to look down and see my old sweeper whites and Red Wing shoes.
It was eerily real, but only for a flash, like the vague shadow of something that passes through one's peripheral vision.
This wasn't simple nostalgia either. It was not so emotional or touchy-feely.
I breathed in and looked up. The window caught my eye.
I breathed out and could feel my pan and broom leaning against the chair.
And the towel dangling from my belt.
And the cool, starchy crispness of my white day custodial shirt.
The flashlight in its leather holster off my right hip.
My Mickey watch, too. The one with the old Velcro band that kept it securely on my wrist.
I knew my break or my lunch was nearing an end.
When I got up, I would step back out to resume my rounds, with the Skyway drifting overhead.
The Skyway?
Straining to see through the glass, I searched for it.
I tried to make out the tower near Casey Junior.
Vainly my eyes tracked the air where the cable used to run.
No soft pastel gondolas floated past.
What happened?
My mind was actually puzzling over the sudden disappearance of the attraction.
This realization shattered the moment like a dropped sugar sculpture.
I was back again.
A dad.
A lawyer.
A guest.
From the 1980s hopeful promise of the future, to 2011's oh-so-pleasant Now.
My soul cringed.
Just a tad.
But nevertheless I said a heartfelt Thank You for what had just occurred.
It is funny how the Park can lift you now or take you back to then or promise great, big beautiful Tomorrows.
I have a feeling I'll be back for more.
---Mike
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Saturday, May 7, 2011
Disneyland - Lost Safari
As I sit in my father-in-law's hospital room in the Medical Telemetry Unit, I can gaze out the window toward Anaheim Stadium.
Beyond it, I can see the outline of the Matterhorn.
The Park is so near, yet seems far away.
Funny how a loved one spending two months (and counting) in a hospital can keep your heart's attention.
I'll never lose the spot in my heart for the Park, of course.
Looking at my blog's Sitemeter numbers drop from a cliff, and finally having the forethought to bring my laptop with me, I make a small vow to try clicking out an entry today.
I feel I've been gone so long.
Returning to the blog for a few moments after almost a month away is at once alien and familiar.
I'm a member of the Lost Safari, finally stumbling back into camp years after having left it. Groggy eyes find my Jeep overturned, my provisions ravaged and my tent mildewed and discolored from years of exposure to the Jungle. No sign of the others.
My arms and legs ache from endlessly clinging to the pole above that damned rhino. The pith helmet smells of sweat. The monocle has rusted in its metal frame. The khakis are threadbare in places. I have lost so much weight, my knees are knobbed and skin hangs from sallow cheeks.
It is a burden to breathe in this oppressive humidity.
What happened here?
Ammo boxes are torn open. Rounds are scattered everywhere.
Rusted pots. A cracked bottle of ether.
Specimen boxes and brittle butterflies.
The green and muddy river gurgles past the bank below.
The sounds of jungle fauna and distant drums form a white noise about me. It echoes in my ears.
I know those sounds so well.
Yet they are dreamlike in this moment. Different.
Eyes struggle to focus as my head throbs.
Sleep comes - fitful and then deep.
I know that I shall wake and then I shall continue my journey back.
Back to the dock.
To the Bazaar.
To the Treehouse.
To Adventureland and beyond.
Until then, my loyal four (4) friends and readers, hang in there with me.
Know that I am making my way home.
Soon enough, I'm sure, I'll be rounding the bend toward Trader Sam, casting him a happy smile as he raises a handful of heads toward my boat.
---Mike
Beyond it, I can see the outline of the Matterhorn.
The Park is so near, yet seems far away.
Funny how a loved one spending two months (and counting) in a hospital can keep your heart's attention.
I'll never lose the spot in my heart for the Park, of course.
Looking at my blog's Sitemeter numbers drop from a cliff, and finally having the forethought to bring my laptop with me, I make a small vow to try clicking out an entry today.
I feel I've been gone so long.
Returning to the blog for a few moments after almost a month away is at once alien and familiar.
I'm a member of the Lost Safari, finally stumbling back into camp years after having left it. Groggy eyes find my Jeep overturned, my provisions ravaged and my tent mildewed and discolored from years of exposure to the Jungle. No sign of the others.
My arms and legs ache from endlessly clinging to the pole above that damned rhino. The pith helmet smells of sweat. The monocle has rusted in its metal frame. The khakis are threadbare in places. I have lost so much weight, my knees are knobbed and skin hangs from sallow cheeks.
It is a burden to breathe in this oppressive humidity.
What happened here?
Ammo boxes are torn open. Rounds are scattered everywhere.
Rusted pots. A cracked bottle of ether.
Specimen boxes and brittle butterflies.
The green and muddy river gurgles past the bank below.
The sounds of jungle fauna and distant drums form a white noise about me. It echoes in my ears.
I know those sounds so well.
Yet they are dreamlike in this moment. Different.
Eyes struggle to focus as my head throbs.
Sleep comes - fitful and then deep.
I know that I shall wake and then I shall continue my journey back.
Back to the dock.
To the Bazaar.
To the Treehouse.
To Adventureland and beyond.
Until then, my loyal four (4) friends and readers, hang in there with me.
Know that I am making my way home.
Soon enough, I'm sure, I'll be rounding the bend toward Trader Sam, casting him a happy smile as he raises a handful of heads toward my boat.
---Mike
Friday, April 15, 2011
Disneyland - The "Main Street-ness" Of It All
Walt really loved his home town of Marceline, Missouri.
Main Street, U.S.A., was based upon his fond memories of that place.
Why it's the first thing you come upon when you exit the tunnel.
You know, they could've built Sleeping Beauty Castle at the Park entrance instead of a railway station.
Our first glimpse of Disneyland could have been Fantasyland, or Frontierland, or Tomorrowland.
Instead, thankfully, quaint little Main Street serves as the front porch, the red carpet, the opening scene leading us into the Park.
Ever felt at home there?
Just walking along the center of the street or stepping into its shops?
Its dimensions are actually quite cozy. Lean against the wall outside of the Market House and glance across the street to the West Side. That really isn't far, is it? You could easily underhand a baseball to a friend on the other side. Watch the windows!!
Having briskly crossed that way many, many thousands and thousands of times, I can attest to its friendly confines. Of course, the use of forced perspective in the construction of its storefronts makes tiny Main Street seem a bit larger than itself.
The details of the buildings, with their intricate carpentry and "ginger breading," belie the studied eye of their designers and call us back to a different time.
It is a surprisingly short walk from the Emporium in Town Square to Coke Corner and the Plaza.
Some guests blow through this area of the Park in a frantic rush to get to the "biggies" like Space Mountain, Indiana Jones or the Matterhorn.
Too bad.
Main Street is meant for lingering. Soaking in.
It is an architectural "hug," for the guests. Colorful paints, varied textures, bright awnings and curtained windows surround the folks who stroll down its center---with Sleeping Beauty Castle a focal point in the distance, drawing them up the street.
The smells of coffee, popcorn and whatever sweets are being cooked up over at the Candy Palace float there.
The ding of a horse-drawn trolley bell gently requests that guests make way as the large draft horse pulling the car clops along ahead of it. Even the vehicles are a bright array of reds, dark greens and yellows. The fine Omnibus, with its canopied roof, green paint and yellow trim, chugs up one side of the Plaza, as the bright red fire truck, with its shiny wooden ladders and brass headlamp, heads down the other.
I love the painted wood surfaces of Main Street.
Run you hand across them. Ever feel any painted thing so smooth? All the layers that must have been laid down over the years! The window sills and doorways attest to the patient hand of many a Disneyland painter.
And light bulbs.
The good kind. Round (not spiraled). With filaments. Warm, yellow light. The kind that turn on the instant you flick the switch.
They're everywhere. Step out of the north end of the Candy Palace and look up. Rows of bulbs outline the base of the overhang there. They fill the space with sparkling light on summer evenings or rainy, winter nights.
The gas lamps burn brightly, too. Neat trees in their planters line the walkways.
Music lolls to your ears, up and down the little blocks of buildings. Familiar old songs with buoyant tempos provide a tonal backdrop to the experience.
Meticulously planned and laid out, Main Street nevertheless feels spontaneous and playful. It feels at once new and long, lived-in. Each time I step out onto it, I feel like I'm "home."
That's the way it is supposed to be.
Until next time, close your eyes and take a stroll past the Penny Arcade fellow Disneylanders!
My sincere best wishes to each of you four (4) devoted readers. Hi, Mom!
---Mike
Main Street, U.S.A., was based upon his fond memories of that place.
Why it's the first thing you come upon when you exit the tunnel.
You know, they could've built Sleeping Beauty Castle at the Park entrance instead of a railway station.
Our first glimpse of Disneyland could have been Fantasyland, or Frontierland, or Tomorrowland.
Instead, thankfully, quaint little Main Street serves as the front porch, the red carpet, the opening scene leading us into the Park.
Ever felt at home there?
Just walking along the center of the street or stepping into its shops?
Its dimensions are actually quite cozy. Lean against the wall outside of the Market House and glance across the street to the West Side. That really isn't far, is it? You could easily underhand a baseball to a friend on the other side. Watch the windows!!
Having briskly crossed that way many, many thousands and thousands of times, I can attest to its friendly confines. Of course, the use of forced perspective in the construction of its storefronts makes tiny Main Street seem a bit larger than itself.
The details of the buildings, with their intricate carpentry and "ginger breading," belie the studied eye of their designers and call us back to a different time.
It is a surprisingly short walk from the Emporium in Town Square to Coke Corner and the Plaza.
Some guests blow through this area of the Park in a frantic rush to get to the "biggies" like Space Mountain, Indiana Jones or the Matterhorn.
Too bad.
Main Street is meant for lingering. Soaking in.
It is an architectural "hug," for the guests. Colorful paints, varied textures, bright awnings and curtained windows surround the folks who stroll down its center---with Sleeping Beauty Castle a focal point in the distance, drawing them up the street.
The smells of coffee, popcorn and whatever sweets are being cooked up over at the Candy Palace float there.
The ding of a horse-drawn trolley bell gently requests that guests make way as the large draft horse pulling the car clops along ahead of it. Even the vehicles are a bright array of reds, dark greens and yellows. The fine Omnibus, with its canopied roof, green paint and yellow trim, chugs up one side of the Plaza, as the bright red fire truck, with its shiny wooden ladders and brass headlamp, heads down the other.
I love the painted wood surfaces of Main Street.
Run you hand across them. Ever feel any painted thing so smooth? All the layers that must have been laid down over the years! The window sills and doorways attest to the patient hand of many a Disneyland painter.
And light bulbs.
The good kind. Round (not spiraled). With filaments. Warm, yellow light. The kind that turn on the instant you flick the switch.
They're everywhere. Step out of the north end of the Candy Palace and look up. Rows of bulbs outline the base of the overhang there. They fill the space with sparkling light on summer evenings or rainy, winter nights.
The gas lamps burn brightly, too. Neat trees in their planters line the walkways.
Music lolls to your ears, up and down the little blocks of buildings. Familiar old songs with buoyant tempos provide a tonal backdrop to the experience.
Meticulously planned and laid out, Main Street nevertheless feels spontaneous and playful. It feels at once new and long, lived-in. Each time I step out onto it, I feel like I'm "home."
That's the way it is supposed to be.
Until next time, close your eyes and take a stroll past the Penny Arcade fellow Disneylanders!
My sincere best wishes to each of you four (4) devoted readers. Hi, Mom!
---Mike
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Disneyland - Walt Stamps - Mickey Mouse Club - 1985-ish Mike
From the Jungle is "101" archival box under the bed, we have located the following gems.
The stamps on the envelopes above provide a happier memory of September 11th than we are stuck with today. The official USPS Walt Disney stamp's first day of issue was on September 11, 1968. Somehow, I ended up with three pristine examples of the stamp on the envelopes seen here (click on the image for a closer view). I found this great article by Wade Sampson over at MousePlanet, which provides you with the historical background of the stamp shown here. Note that the envelopes also bear the Marceline, Missouri post office mark. If you do not immediately perceive the significance of this, know that Marceline was Walt's "home town" growing up---though he was not born there.
I also came across a photo print that was given to me by a family friend who had long ago been married to one of the original Mouseketeers, Don Agrati. That's Don next to Linda. Don went on to do other things, including a stint on the classic TV show My Three Sons. Anyway, the photo is in excellent condition and shows Walt and the Mickey Mouse Club cast on one of Walt Disney Productions sound stages in the mid-1950s. Go ahead and click on the photo and get a close up view. If you look closely, you'll see that Walt is sporting his "Smoke Tree Ranch" tie. Here's a link to Smoke Tree Ranch for more information on Walt's association with this place.
Last, but not least, let's beam back to 1985-ish for a picture of this blog's author (in response to the many requests received for an '80s view of my mug). As can be seen, "Preppy" clothing was "In." I'm still digging the green Izod with its famous alligator logo. The Mickey Mouse watch was a mandatory accessory for this cast member (still is, in fact). This photo was taken in Palm Springs on a Spring Break get-away with a group of about 15 Day Custodial cast members. Oddly, the US Postal Service has yet to grace a stamp with my likeness. That's okay by me, since the new protocol apparently requires me to have been dead for 10 years before they issue a stamp of me. I'll pass.
That's all I have for you today, kids! Have a wondrous day wherever you are and whenever you read this!
---Mike
That's all I have for you today, kids! Have a wondrous day wherever you are and whenever you read this!
---Mike
Thursday, April 7, 2011
Disneyland - An Ode
Oh, for a day at Disneyland!
Sunshine blinking off flower petals, with smooth green railings circling the beds.
Stepping from tunnel to Town Square, the Park wraps around you.
Music lilts from somewhere in the background of the blue-skied day.
A day that spreads out before you like a banquet.
Or a Christmas morning.
Promise-filled, wondrous, anticipated.
To feel a bounce in my step and the curve of a smile.
To run my hand down the side of a proud Percheron!
Give me a morning moment on the Hub.
Until clanging bell and piping steam whistle beckon from the distance.
Feet turn and eyes follow.
Through the frontier, over wood-planked porches.
Under trees, beside rivers, beneath mountains.
Breathe in popcorn and butter, jungle water, diesel, musty pavement, Lafitte's Landing's and the Blue Bayou's damp air, locomotive steam and metal brakes, magnolia blossoms, a chlorinated Submarine lagoon, pineapple, rubber snakes in a barrel, fresh peanut brittle, coffee, new and neatly folded t-shirts stacked in the Emporium or conditioned air and upholstery in the Lincoln Theater.
Novel and new, yet deeply familiar.
Give me talking birds, singing flowers, drunken pirates, grinning ghosts, squirting elephants and runaway trains.
Sit me on a wooden bench in the shade.
March a band by me in full sound.
Tire my legs from walking.
Surround me with a crowd.
We'll have fireworks to round things out.
It'll be grand.
So take me.
Take me.
Take me to Disneyland!!
Have a great day, all!
---Mike
Sunshine blinking off flower petals, with smooth green railings circling the beds.
Stepping from tunnel to Town Square, the Park wraps around you.
Music lilts from somewhere in the background of the blue-skied day.
A day that spreads out before you like a banquet.
Or a Christmas morning.
Promise-filled, wondrous, anticipated.
To feel a bounce in my step and the curve of a smile.
To run my hand down the side of a proud Percheron!
Give me a morning moment on the Hub.
Until clanging bell and piping steam whistle beckon from the distance.
Feet turn and eyes follow.
Through the frontier, over wood-planked porches.
Under trees, beside rivers, beneath mountains.
Breathe in popcorn and butter, jungle water, diesel, musty pavement, Lafitte's Landing's and the Blue Bayou's damp air, locomotive steam and metal brakes, magnolia blossoms, a chlorinated Submarine lagoon, pineapple, rubber snakes in a barrel, fresh peanut brittle, coffee, new and neatly folded t-shirts stacked in the Emporium or conditioned air and upholstery in the Lincoln Theater.
Novel and new, yet deeply familiar.
Give me talking birds, singing flowers, drunken pirates, grinning ghosts, squirting elephants and runaway trains.
Sit me on a wooden bench in the shade.
March a band by me in full sound.
Tire my legs from walking.
Surround me with a crowd.
We'll have fireworks to round things out.
It'll be grand.
So take me.
Take me.
Take me to Disneyland!!
Have a great day, all!
---Mike
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Disneyland - Jungle Is "101" Back Online - A Mother And Child Reunion
Hello, everyone.
I am so sorry, but a family emergency had taken Jungle Is "101" into a "holding pattern" for the last few weeks. It is amazing how a father-in-law's trip into the ICU can cut into your time for posting about Disneyland.
Jungle Fans, please pray for my father-in-law's recovery or send a favorable thought his way. Thank you!
In any event, I thought I'd take a moment to post a quick hello and update.
Hello.
I sure missed you guys.
How've you been?
What's new?
Hope you are well.
My thoughts have been with those affected by the devastation of the earthquakes, tsunami and nuclear reactor failures in Japan. Our prayers go out to our many Japanese friends and followers---and all of our cast member pals and guests at Tokyo Disneyland---during this very difficult time.
I must admit it has been difficult, between international and personal disasters, to come up with much to write about here. I thought I'd just take a moment and sit down at the old Royal typewriter and start banging out something, anything, just to show you this blog isn't a permanently frozen screen.
So. Here it is.
A little disjointed.
Stream of consciousness---or semi-consciousness, in my case.
Rather than focusing on the negative, as in the first half of this post, I have chosen to leave you with a positive Disneyland memory that I have scraped from the recesses of my feeble mind.
It is simple.
And, mercifully, not terribly long.
I was on my way across the Hub toward a Thunder Mountain shift. Boots, hat, bandana, name tag.
My thoughts were ahead of me, thinking about clocking in, mentally checking the "in-Park" number of guests as I crossed Main Street, wondering if I'd be in the Tower or start off at Load or Main Entrance.
I almost tripped over a small girl as I started to cross the wooden bridge at the Frontierland entrance.
She was four, no more than five, years old.
Her large blue eyes were wide with terror.
And filled with tears.
She was frantic, and called, "Mommy! Mommy!" over and over.
Her tiny Minnie Mouse shirt was accompanied by jean shorts and little sandals.
Chocolate smudges from a recently eaten ice cream bar surrounded her mouth and speckled her Minnie shirt.
She just about crashed into my knee as she ran in a panicky circle, eyes darting about, breathlessly seeking out her lost mother amid her hot tears.
I stopped short and so did she.
Her chin raised and her eyes followed.
I felt very tall and imposing in my boots and hat as she looked up at me.
I saw the fear and panic wash over her face.
Quickly, I knelt down before her and looked into her eyes.
I smiled and said, "It's all right, we'll find your mommy. See---I work for Mickey."
I lifted my vest and held out my name tag.
She squinted through tears to make out the tiny mouse above my name.
Then she looked at me.
She sized me up and apparently felt that I was a better alternative than wandering, lost and alone, through the vast Magic Kingdom---without her mom!
"This says 'Mike," --- that's my name, what's yours?"
The puffy tear stained eyes stared back.
She wasn't talking.
"I'm going to help you find you mommy, all right?"
A pouting and quivering lower lip made it clear that I'd better find mom fast.
Still kneeling, I looked right at her and told her that moms sometimes get lost in Disneyland, but we always, always find them.
"I'm going to stand up and see if I can find her, okay? Will you stand right here by me?"
She nodded and stood by my leg, my boot dwarfing her lilliputian sandals.
I scanned Frontierland ahead of me. No sign of any frantic mom, dad or sibling.
"Stay right here," I told the little girl.
I slowly pivoted and started to scan the guests moving about the Hub, from the Adventureland entrance, toward the Plaza Pavilion, to the Plaza, to the popcorn cart at the base of the Hub. Nothing obvious.
I looked at the Hub and across it to the Tomorrowland entrance. Where's mom?
Continuing to pan to my left, I saw a group of folks in front of the Castle, along with a balloon vendor and a security guard---near Matterhorn Way. Darn, he's a bit far away. Don't think I can get his attention.
I waved.
The balloon vendor waved back.
But not the security guard, who continued up Matterhorn Way and out of sight.
Great. Security guards had radios. I did not.
I could sense panic building in my little charge, who began to cry for mommy and have second thoughts about the man in the boots and big hat---even if he DID have Mickey on his name tag.
One thing I learned was to be patient with a lost child and to stay put for several minutes (unless I could flag down Security). I knew that a Big Thunder cast member standing with a crying child at the Hub was likely to get someone's attention the longer I stayed put. I also knew the hazard of moving --- because the mom (and dad, brother, sister or other family members) mostly likely was running around searching for the little girl.
I looked back toward Frontierland and saw a security guard, in his U.S. Cavalry costume, walking outside the Shootin' Arcade. How appropriate, I thought. Call in the Cavalry!
Before I could get his attention, though, to my far left I saw a mom-like figure scurrying out of Adventureland and past the entrance to the Tiki Room. Her rapidly swiveling head and nervous stutter steps as she half-ran, made her stand out from the loping folks in the crowd around her. She had her sunglasses pushed up in her hair and a wild-eyed look that I could pick out from over 150 feet away.
"Sarah!! Sarah!!!"
I could hear her crying as she neared the Plaza Pavilion.
She started to head south toward Main Street, but stopped and glanced back my way.
I raised my hat and held it high above my head, waving it like a flagman on the Disneyland Railroad.
She saw me.
She looked down.
She saw Sarah.
Sarah's mom immediately began to run toward us.
"Look who I found," I knelt down and said to Sarah, pointing toward the running woman.
The fear instantly evaporated from Sarah's face.
"MOMMY!"
I stood and watched the reunion between them play out before me on the Frontierland entrance bridge.
"Where did you go??!! Oh where did you go??? Mommy's got you!"
Mom scooped up Sarah and held her tight.
"Thank you!!! She's been lost for almost half an hour! Where did you find her??"
"Right here. She was coming out of Frontierland and was pretty upset."
"Thank Goodness you found her!"
"She wasn't hard to miss, believe me!"
The little eyes looked across to me from her mom's shoulder.
"See, I told you we always, ALWAYS find lost moms here at Disneyland!" A cute little blink, a twinkle of a smile and her face quickly buried back into the shoulder.
The security guard I had seen earlier had now joined us on the bridge.
"All clear. We have mom and daughter at Frontierland entrance," he spoke into his radio.
"We've been looking for her over on the West Side. Glad to see you found her."
"She kinda found me. I was heading to Thunder to start my shift."
"Thank you, thank you!" Sarah's mom repeated. "We were right by the Treehouse and she wandered off. We looked everywhere!! I grabbed a security guard and he got on the radio. You people are GOOD!"
I smiled.
Good?
Dumb luck and a knack for kids and dogs.
Still, I was happy to accept the compliment and to see mom and daughter together again.
I headed to Thunder.
Five minutes late for my shift.
The area manager was kind enough to correct my time card --- since she had gotten the radio call about the lost child, too!
All in a day's work, ma'am.
All in a day's work.
---Mike
I am so sorry, but a family emergency had taken Jungle Is "101" into a "holding pattern" for the last few weeks. It is amazing how a father-in-law's trip into the ICU can cut into your time for posting about Disneyland.
Jungle Fans, please pray for my father-in-law's recovery or send a favorable thought his way. Thank you!
In any event, I thought I'd take a moment to post a quick hello and update.
Hello.
I sure missed you guys.
How've you been?
What's new?
Hope you are well.
My thoughts have been with those affected by the devastation of the earthquakes, tsunami and nuclear reactor failures in Japan. Our prayers go out to our many Japanese friends and followers---and all of our cast member pals and guests at Tokyo Disneyland---during this very difficult time.
I must admit it has been difficult, between international and personal disasters, to come up with much to write about here. I thought I'd just take a moment and sit down at the old Royal typewriter and start banging out something, anything, just to show you this blog isn't a permanently frozen screen.
So. Here it is.
A little disjointed.
Stream of consciousness---or semi-consciousness, in my case.
Rather than focusing on the negative, as in the first half of this post, I have chosen to leave you with a positive Disneyland memory that I have scraped from the recesses of my feeble mind.
It is simple.
And, mercifully, not terribly long.
I was on my way across the Hub toward a Thunder Mountain shift. Boots, hat, bandana, name tag.
My thoughts were ahead of me, thinking about clocking in, mentally checking the "in-Park" number of guests as I crossed Main Street, wondering if I'd be in the Tower or start off at Load or Main Entrance.
I almost tripped over a small girl as I started to cross the wooden bridge at the Frontierland entrance.
She was four, no more than five, years old.
Her large blue eyes were wide with terror.
And filled with tears.
She was frantic, and called, "Mommy! Mommy!" over and over.
Her tiny Minnie Mouse shirt was accompanied by jean shorts and little sandals.
Chocolate smudges from a recently eaten ice cream bar surrounded her mouth and speckled her Minnie shirt.
She just about crashed into my knee as she ran in a panicky circle, eyes darting about, breathlessly seeking out her lost mother amid her hot tears.
I stopped short and so did she.
Her chin raised and her eyes followed.
I felt very tall and imposing in my boots and hat as she looked up at me.
I saw the fear and panic wash over her face.
Quickly, I knelt down before her and looked into her eyes.
I smiled and said, "It's all right, we'll find your mommy. See---I work for Mickey."
I lifted my vest and held out my name tag.
She squinted through tears to make out the tiny mouse above my name.
Then she looked at me.
She sized me up and apparently felt that I was a better alternative than wandering, lost and alone, through the vast Magic Kingdom---without her mom!
"This says 'Mike," --- that's my name, what's yours?"
The puffy tear stained eyes stared back.
She wasn't talking.
"I'm going to help you find you mommy, all right?"
A pouting and quivering lower lip made it clear that I'd better find mom fast.
Still kneeling, I looked right at her and told her that moms sometimes get lost in Disneyland, but we always, always find them.
"I'm going to stand up and see if I can find her, okay? Will you stand right here by me?"
She nodded and stood by my leg, my boot dwarfing her lilliputian sandals.
I scanned Frontierland ahead of me. No sign of any frantic mom, dad or sibling.
"Stay right here," I told the little girl.
I slowly pivoted and started to scan the guests moving about the Hub, from the Adventureland entrance, toward the Plaza Pavilion, to the Plaza, to the popcorn cart at the base of the Hub. Nothing obvious.
I looked at the Hub and across it to the Tomorrowland entrance. Where's mom?
Continuing to pan to my left, I saw a group of folks in front of the Castle, along with a balloon vendor and a security guard---near Matterhorn Way. Darn, he's a bit far away. Don't think I can get his attention.
I waved.
The balloon vendor waved back.
But not the security guard, who continued up Matterhorn Way and out of sight.
Great. Security guards had radios. I did not.
I could sense panic building in my little charge, who began to cry for mommy and have second thoughts about the man in the boots and big hat---even if he DID have Mickey on his name tag.
One thing I learned was to be patient with a lost child and to stay put for several minutes (unless I could flag down Security). I knew that a Big Thunder cast member standing with a crying child at the Hub was likely to get someone's attention the longer I stayed put. I also knew the hazard of moving --- because the mom (and dad, brother, sister or other family members) mostly likely was running around searching for the little girl.
I looked back toward Frontierland and saw a security guard, in his U.S. Cavalry costume, walking outside the Shootin' Arcade. How appropriate, I thought. Call in the Cavalry!
Before I could get his attention, though, to my far left I saw a mom-like figure scurrying out of Adventureland and past the entrance to the Tiki Room. Her rapidly swiveling head and nervous stutter steps as she half-ran, made her stand out from the loping folks in the crowd around her. She had her sunglasses pushed up in her hair and a wild-eyed look that I could pick out from over 150 feet away.
"Sarah!! Sarah!!!"
I could hear her crying as she neared the Plaza Pavilion.
She started to head south toward Main Street, but stopped and glanced back my way.
I raised my hat and held it high above my head, waving it like a flagman on the Disneyland Railroad.
She saw me.
She looked down.
She saw Sarah.
Sarah's mom immediately began to run toward us.
"Look who I found," I knelt down and said to Sarah, pointing toward the running woman.
The fear instantly evaporated from Sarah's face.
"MOMMY!"
I stood and watched the reunion between them play out before me on the Frontierland entrance bridge.
"Where did you go??!! Oh where did you go??? Mommy's got you!"
Mom scooped up Sarah and held her tight.
"Thank you!!! She's been lost for almost half an hour! Where did you find her??"
"Right here. She was coming out of Frontierland and was pretty upset."
"Thank Goodness you found her!"
"She wasn't hard to miss, believe me!"
The little eyes looked across to me from her mom's shoulder.
"See, I told you we always, ALWAYS find lost moms here at Disneyland!" A cute little blink, a twinkle of a smile and her face quickly buried back into the shoulder.
The security guard I had seen earlier had now joined us on the bridge.
"All clear. We have mom and daughter at Frontierland entrance," he spoke into his radio.
"We've been looking for her over on the West Side. Glad to see you found her."
"She kinda found me. I was heading to Thunder to start my shift."
"Thank you, thank you!" Sarah's mom repeated. "We were right by the Treehouse and she wandered off. We looked everywhere!! I grabbed a security guard and he got on the radio. You people are GOOD!"
I smiled.
Good?
Dumb luck and a knack for kids and dogs.
Still, I was happy to accept the compliment and to see mom and daughter together again.
I headed to Thunder.
Five minutes late for my shift.
The area manager was kind enough to correct my time card --- since she had gotten the radio call about the lost child, too!
All in a day's work, ma'am.
All in a day's work.
---Mike
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Disneyland - Cast Activities Center - Disneyland Employees Federal Credit Union
A small, squat building was situated near the center of the backstage area behind Main Street in the 1980s. It is still there today, but it is now a computer training location.
It was the Cast Activities Center.
As you approached its main entrance (located directly across from the old Wardrobe/Administration building), there was a Bank of America Versateller machine/kiosk at the right side of the building.
There was not much architecture to the structure and its wooden support pillars were painted a dark brown.
Inside was a lounge area and there were TVs that constantly showed the then fairly new "Disney Channel."
"Dumbo's Circus" seemed to always be on.
The classic "Disney Channel" logo would flash across the screen between shows.
TVs over in the "Inn-Between" show the Disney Channel as well. It was being heavily promoted and it looks like it caught on.
The Cast Activities Center was where you could get information about everything from the latest Red Cross Blood Drive to the Canoe Races to the Disneyland Employees Federal Credit Union. Indeed, the structure that housed Cast Activities was originally where the Credit Union was located. It move outside the berm and, in the 1980s, was located just inside the tall chain link fence that enclosed the Park property along Harbor Boulevard at the Employee Parking lot entrance.
Like many other cast members, I had an account there. I, however, still have checks left! My old account from the 1980s has long since closed, but let me tell you it was always cool to write a check with a background picture of Sleeping Beauty's Castle and Mickey and Minnie.
Whenever I would pay for something with one of these checks, it always, always sparked a conversation with the cashier.
"Oooh! Where did you get this? Do you work for Disneyland?!"
"What? This old thing? Why it's just a regular old check."
"How did you get the Disneyland picture on it??"
"Well, I do actually work at the Park..."
"What do you do?"
"Ever been on the Jungle Cruise?"
"NO WAY!! I LOVE that ride."
To this day, I must say, that having been a Jungle Skipper gets me more attention than anything I've done in my professional or educational career. For some odd reason there's an instant connection---a bond---between guests and Jungle Skippers.
"Do you remember the spiel?"
"In my sleep! I've been 'round the jungle river a time or two."
"Can I see your driver's license please. Is your address and telephone information correct?"
(Hmph. "Jungle Skipper" only gets you so far in life).
I am sure today I could find a bank that would put a Disneyland photo in the background of my checks.
Except no one really uses checks anymore.
Can you imagine what my 1980s dollars would be worth today??
Shoulda bought Disney stock in bunches back then.
Have a magnificent Tuesday---or whatever day it is when you happen upon this post!!
---Mike
It was the Cast Activities Center.
As you approached its main entrance (located directly across from the old Wardrobe/Administration building), there was a Bank of America Versateller machine/kiosk at the right side of the building.
There was not much architecture to the structure and its wooden support pillars were painted a dark brown.
Inside was a lounge area and there were TVs that constantly showed the then fairly new "Disney Channel."
"Dumbo's Circus" seemed to always be on.
The classic "Disney Channel" logo would flash across the screen between shows.
The Cast Activities Center was where you could get information about everything from the latest Red Cross Blood Drive to the Canoe Races to the Disneyland Employees Federal Credit Union. Indeed, the structure that housed Cast Activities was originally where the Credit Union was located. It move outside the berm and, in the 1980s, was located just inside the tall chain link fence that enclosed the Park property along Harbor Boulevard at the Employee Parking lot entrance.
Like many other cast members, I had an account there. I, however, still have checks left! My old account from the 1980s has long since closed, but let me tell you it was always cool to write a check with a background picture of Sleeping Beauty's Castle and Mickey and Minnie.
"Oooh! Where did you get this? Do you work for Disneyland?!"
"What? This old thing? Why it's just a regular old check."
"How did you get the Disneyland picture on it??"
"Well, I do actually work at the Park..."
"What do you do?"
"Ever been on the Jungle Cruise?"
"NO WAY!! I LOVE that ride."
To this day, I must say, that having been a Jungle Skipper gets me more attention than anything I've done in my professional or educational career. For some odd reason there's an instant connection---a bond---between guests and Jungle Skippers.
"Do you remember the spiel?"
"In my sleep! I've been 'round the jungle river a time or two."
"Can I see your driver's license please. Is your address and telephone information correct?"
(Hmph. "Jungle Skipper" only gets you so far in life).
I am sure today I could find a bank that would put a Disneyland photo in the background of my checks.
Except no one really uses checks anymore.
Can you imagine what my 1980s dollars would be worth today??
Shoulda bought Disney stock in bunches back then.
Have a magnificent Tuesday---or whatever day it is when you happen upon this post!!
---Mike
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Disneyland - Marooned In The Jungle (Part II)
If you did not catch "Part I," here's a link to it. And now, without further fanfare, Jungle Theater presents the conclusion of Marooned In The Jungle.
So. I am stranded on an island just as the Jungle Cruise is about to open its daily operations.
My brain is racing with thoughts of, "you'll be walked out; you'll be given a permanent 'No Rehire.'"
Despair sets in --- just a tad.
Peering through the foliage back towards the dock, I see our area supervisor approaching the lead.
I duck down like a Green Beret under direct enemy fire.
Great.
Doomed.
Over at the far end of the dock, I hear the Skipper chatting up the first boat of guests for the morning.
"Greetings and welcome aboard! Show of hands, anyone coming on board visiting from outside of California??
Yes. You, sir, where're you from?"
"Cleveland."
"I'm sorry?"
"Cleveland."
"Oh, I heard you fine, I'm just...sorry. Seriously, welcome aboard. Since you're from Cleveland, I'll try and speak a little slower, okay? Anyone here born on their birthday or some other day during the year?? Raise those hands? Anyone else from out of town? Out of patience? Out of control? Out of money? Oh, yes in the back! You're out of money? Well, welcome to Disneyland!"
By now, my inner "Jungle Load" clock is telling me the boat is almost full and will be steaming off into the jungle---with me now an unwilling participant in the Show along its river banks.
"All right! Let's get those last victims---er, visitors---into the back and we're off! Turn around and wave good-bye to the beautiful people back on the dock!"
From my crouched position near the hut, I can see the area manager turn from the lead and head out the exit toward the Bazaar. Whew. Close one.
The next boat is now loading and I can hear the tell-tale rumble of the first boat's throttled engine as it makes its way past the Ancient Cambodian Shrine and into the Elephant Pool. I know that I can keep out of view, but at some point, I've got to get off this island and back to my duties!
"HEY, SKIP!" My lead's voice pierces the vegetation.
"BETTER SAY HI TO THE WATER BUFFALO!"
Is this some kind of code?
I inch back toward the water buffalo side of the island, along the narrow trail.
As I near the bank, I hear the sound of a boat engine---but it's not a Jungle boat.
It's the skiff!
Coming from under Schweitzer falls and buzzing, bow-first towards me is one of our senior Jungle Skippers---laughing and gesturing for me to get ready to jump in.
I shoot him a half-smile/half-glare and grab for the bow of the skiff, which wobbles under my grip. In a single move, I jump from the island bank into the small vessel and, before I am quite seated, my fellow skipper throttles the outboard and we shoot forward past Sam. I find myself on the floorboards, the momentum of the boat throwing me back.
There is muted laughter from behind me as we race to our right through the open gate that leads to Boat Storage. We zip by so fast that I doubt a single guest down at the far end of the dock at Load ever became aware of our presence.
Pulling alongside the edge of the boat storage area, the skiff's captain activates the control to shut the doors to Boat Storage. He kills the engine and we drift ahead toward the storage bays. He is now laughing loudly and I can feel the aluminum hull shaking under me.
"Did you see the area manager, Robinson Crusoe!?? I thought we were dead!!" He stammers between giggles.
"Yeah. Um, where did you come from??"
"Don sent me around to hang out by the Lost Safari while you were stranded. He told me to pick you up after the first boat was dispatched. Guess he didn't expect the manager to show up so early!"
This was a day shift, so the crew was mostly veterans. After we exited the skiff, we walked from the back area, past the Tahitian Terrace, and stepped across the rocks that formed a walkway to the Unload dock.
Arriving at the dock, I was cheered and razzed by the Skippers.
I feigned indignation---for by now, the joke was completely on me so I figured I might as well go along with it!
"Home is the hunter! Home from the hill!" called out one of the few, more literate cast members.
"Hey, Mike! How's Sam?? Heard you were hut hunting! Did you open an escrow?"
"You shoulda seen the look on your face! I'm still laughing!"
"It's times like these when you find out who your real friends are!"
"You had that coming ever since that episode last week at Charley Brown's"
Etc.
There was applause.
A shift-long ridicule ensued.
It persisted over the course of the summer.
I became known as "Island Mike" among the opening crew who were present.
Then among newer cast members who were nowhere near the attraction when this little stunt was pulled.
I wore the mantle with honor.
I learned a valuable lesson of the Jungle.
Never leave the skiff---unless you're at the dock.
Adieu, mon ami!
---Mike
So. I am stranded on an island just as the Jungle Cruise is about to open its daily operations.
My brain is racing with thoughts of, "you'll be walked out; you'll be given a permanent 'No Rehire.'"
Despair sets in --- just a tad.
Peering through the foliage back towards the dock, I see our area supervisor approaching the lead.
I duck down like a Green Beret under direct enemy fire.
Great.
Doomed.
Over at the far end of the dock, I hear the Skipper chatting up the first boat of guests for the morning.
"Greetings and welcome aboard! Show of hands, anyone coming on board visiting from outside of California??
Yes. You, sir, where're you from?"
"Cleveland."
"I'm sorry?"
"Cleveland."
"Oh, I heard you fine, I'm just...sorry. Seriously, welcome aboard. Since you're from Cleveland, I'll try and speak a little slower, okay? Anyone here born on their birthday or some other day during the year?? Raise those hands? Anyone else from out of town? Out of patience? Out of control? Out of money? Oh, yes in the back! You're out of money? Well, welcome to Disneyland!"
By now, my inner "Jungle Load" clock is telling me the boat is almost full and will be steaming off into the jungle---with me now an unwilling participant in the Show along its river banks.
"All right! Let's get those last victims---er, visitors---into the back and we're off! Turn around and wave good-bye to the beautiful people back on the dock!"
From my crouched position near the hut, I can see the area manager turn from the lead and head out the exit toward the Bazaar. Whew. Close one.
The next boat is now loading and I can hear the tell-tale rumble of the first boat's throttled engine as it makes its way past the Ancient Cambodian Shrine and into the Elephant Pool. I know that I can keep out of view, but at some point, I've got to get off this island and back to my duties!
"HEY, SKIP!" My lead's voice pierces the vegetation.
"BETTER SAY HI TO THE WATER BUFFALO!"
Is this some kind of code?
I inch back toward the water buffalo side of the island, along the narrow trail.
As I near the bank, I hear the sound of a boat engine---but it's not a Jungle boat.
It's the skiff!
Coming from under Schweitzer falls and buzzing, bow-first towards me is one of our senior Jungle Skippers---laughing and gesturing for me to get ready to jump in.
I shoot him a half-smile/half-glare and grab for the bow of the skiff, which wobbles under my grip. In a single move, I jump from the island bank into the small vessel and, before I am quite seated, my fellow skipper throttles the outboard and we shoot forward past Sam. I find myself on the floorboards, the momentum of the boat throwing me back.
There is muted laughter from behind me as we race to our right through the open gate that leads to Boat Storage. We zip by so fast that I doubt a single guest down at the far end of the dock at Load ever became aware of our presence.
Pulling alongside the edge of the boat storage area, the skiff's captain activates the control to shut the doors to Boat Storage. He kills the engine and we drift ahead toward the storage bays. He is now laughing loudly and I can feel the aluminum hull shaking under me.
"Did you see the area manager, Robinson Crusoe!?? I thought we were dead!!" He stammers between giggles.
"Yeah. Um, where did you come from??"
"Don sent me around to hang out by the Lost Safari while you were stranded. He told me to pick you up after the first boat was dispatched. Guess he didn't expect the manager to show up so early!"
This was a day shift, so the crew was mostly veterans. After we exited the skiff, we walked from the back area, past the Tahitian Terrace, and stepped across the rocks that formed a walkway to the Unload dock.
Arriving at the dock, I was cheered and razzed by the Skippers.
I feigned indignation---for by now, the joke was completely on me so I figured I might as well go along with it!
"Home is the hunter! Home from the hill!" called out one of the few, more literate cast members.
"Hey, Mike! How's Sam?? Heard you were hut hunting! Did you open an escrow?"
"You shoulda seen the look on your face! I'm still laughing!"
"It's times like these when you find out who your real friends are!"
"You had that coming ever since that episode last week at Charley Brown's"
Etc.
There was applause.
A shift-long ridicule ensued.
It persisted over the course of the summer.
I became known as "Island Mike" among the opening crew who were present.
Then among newer cast members who were nowhere near the attraction when this little stunt was pulled.
I wore the mantle with honor.
I learned a valuable lesson of the Jungle.
Never leave the skiff---unless you're at the dock.
Adieu, mon ami!
---Mike
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Disneyland - Deep Thoughts on a Wednesday - Jungle Readers Analyzed
Greetings, salutations and welcome, oh wayward fans of this humble slice of cyberspace.
You know who you are.
"Jungle is 101" followers are a fine crew, marked by undeniably distinct characteristics and personality flaws:
Happy Windsday, Piglet!
---Mike
You know who you are.
"Jungle is 101" followers are a fine crew, marked by undeniably distinct characteristics and personality flaws:
- You are literate, but favor picture books with high monosyllabic word content.
- You are inquisitive, yet willingly believe anything in writing, so long as it is on the Internet.
- Aloof, you wear ascots and smoking jackets, despite summer humidity and a fondness for sandals.
- You find Superstring Theory plausible because it posits additional dimensions beyond the four space-time dimensions generally observed, but mostly because it can be shot from a can during birthday celebrations.
- You are secure in your individuality, yet bemused by people who gape at you during one of your regular, spontaneous and utterly inappropriate outbursts while using public transit systems.
- Dental hygiene is more of a broad, long-term goal than a daily objective.
- You are disturbed that one of the voices in your head seems to be hearing things---worse yet, it is starting to act them out and is annoying the other voices, who are agitating for a solution---along with benefits, a pension plan and discretionary bonuses.
- You fill in crossword puzzle answers with numbers and strange symbols that you've made up all by yourself.
- People like you. As long as you remain in strict compliance with the restraining order.
- What's wrong with mustard? You got a problem with MUSTARD??!!!!
- You know exactly what I'm talking about as far as the whole "mustard" thing.
- You were voted Class Clown at your remedial school---eight years in a row.
- "There's always room for Jello" is not just an advertising slogan, it is a guiding principle and quantum vacuum, forming the fundamental energy and information-carrying field, or "Akashic field," that informs not just the current universe, but all universes past and present---collectively, the "Metaverse."
- You put your pants on, one leg at a time, four pairs at a time, just like the next guy.
- Drinking isn't a problem. Stopping. Stopping's a problem.
- You weigh over 500 pounds, with enormous, razor sharp teeth and claws, can leap over twenty feet, and your roar can be heard more than 3 kilometers away. Wait. Never mind. That's a Bengal Tiger.
- NASCAR is a sport! And a dang good 'un, mind you!
- You can't shake the feeling you left something in Adventureland, like a wallet or a family member.
- You pay your mortgage with a credit card and your credit card with your home equity line of credit.
- You don't have a home equity line of credit.
- Other people fascinate you. You stare unblinkingly at them and edge closer to them on park benches and in supermarket check-out lines.
- You still duck when Jungle natives attack just before the "Backside of Water," though you've never actually seen them toss a single spear in any prior attack. Ever.
- Thinking back on dissecting that frog in high school still makes you hungry.
- There's nothing wrong with living alone. In a park. Under scrub brush. On an embankment.
- You favorite holiday is one that is celebrated by no one else. Anywhere. But you still wear the costume to work.
- A nowhere job for minimum wage is not a sign of failure---it's something to apply for.
- I swear that guy is staring at me.
- Is this the way to the restroom? Why are you all wearing epaulets?
- I could read stuff on the Internet all day long...
- You've read each of the bullet points above, amazed at their uncanny accuracy in describing your inner self --- it's like he really GETS me!
- You don't know just when to quit.
- But I do.
Happy Windsday, Piglet!
---Mike
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Disneyland - Mint Julep Bar - Cast Member Susy
This past Friday evening, we piled into the car for a trip to Disneyland in the rain.
The Park was not crowded, and the wind and rain blew as if Hina and Tongaroa-Ru were Annual Pass holders.
Of course, the "Bubble" (as Cast Members know) was in full effect at times, too, as the rain let up for most of the evening. The "Bubble" is a reference to the Park's unique ability to remain a lone dry spot in Southern California, even when the entire region is in the midst of a storm. The term arose because some guests actually wondered aloud if it was true that Disneyland has a glass dome or bubble that is turned on to keep out the elements. To Cast Members hoping to avoid a closing shift due to inclement weather, the "Bubble" was a term of frustration. You would call in to see if you were still scheduled only to be told---Yes. Really? It's pouring where I live and hasn't let up all day! Um. Not at the Park. There's a break in the clouds above us and we can see sky. See you at 5:00 p.m., don't be late for your shift.
Okay. Where was I?
Oh yeah. Rain, Disneyland, Cold.
My youngest and I spent some rare time inside "Innoventions." The attraction is pretty much only good for keeping you dry in a rainstorm. Being 7, she actually enjoyed walking around and looking at the "house of the future." You mean someday people will have flat panel big screen TVs in their homes? No way!
While we wandered in "The Future," my dear wife and older daughter braved the elements and even made their way onto Casey Junior. A cell phone call advised me to meet them at Tiki Room and that they were cold and wanted hot chocolate---Stat!
We met at the Tiki lanai, took in the show and headed to New Orleans Square after we left the theater.
Mint Julep Bar.
They have hot cocoa, beignets and funnel cakes.
We rounded the corner and found a small line of guests at the service counter.
When it was my turn, I approached and placed our order. The cast member working there was Susy. She was on until 11:45 p.m., I learned by pestering her. She was very nice and a testament to what a cast member can and should be. I teased her, as I am wont to do, and she smilingly went along with it.
"Name?" she asked as she took my order.
"Mike."
"We already have a 'Mike' ahead of you."
"I'm the better 'Mike,'" I said, "Put that down."
She looked up and laughed. And started writing.
"Hey!" said the "other" 'Mike' standing to our left and waiting for his order. "I'm the BEST 'Mike!'"
My wife, all too familiar with her husband goofing around with guests and cast members for no apparent reason, cringed slightly and rolled her eyes.
"He better give you a five dollar tip!" announced the "other" Mike as I stood at the counter before Susy.
Ouch.
I smiled and walked over to "Mike."
"Hi, I'm Mike Kelly," I said shaking his hand firmly and smiling that mischievous smile that comes from years in the Jungle.
"Mike Valero, pleased to meet you."
"Where are you from? Cold and wet enough for you?"
"Connecticut. This is a dream compared to the weather back home. I was in Hawaii on business and we stopped here on the way back home."
Mike introduced us to his wife and we told them we envied their recent trip to Hawaii.
In the end, we both agreed we were pretty darn good "Mikes" and would consider it a draw. They left, sipping their hot coffees and heading off toward the Rivers of America.
"'Better Mike,' your order is ready!" announced Susy's fellow cast member from behind the "Pick Up" window.
"Why, thank you, my dear," I said taking our cups of warm libations and poking my head low to call into the Julep Bar window. "Good work, Susy!! As you can see, I eliminated all confusion at the pick up window by drawing the distinction of being the "Better Mike." Susy flashed a Disney smile and wished us a fond "Good Evening!" as we left with our order.
I should have snapped her picture with the cell phone camera, but I'll have to immortalize her here with this brief---ok, not-so-brief---mention.
She brightened our cold, damp evening with a cheerful smile, a good attitude, hot coffee and cocoa and funnel cake, too.
In our best nod to the classic TV show Hee-Haw, Jungle is "101" salutes Susy, French Market Mint Julep Bar closing shift cast member from Friday, February 18, 2011.
SAL-LUTE!
We now return you to your regularly scheduled daily activities.
Oh, and if you should see Susy at the French Market during your next trip to Disneyland---tell her the "Better Mike" says hello!
---Mike
The Shirt Lives!!
The Park was not crowded, and the wind and rain blew as if Hina and Tongaroa-Ru were Annual Pass holders.
Of course, the "Bubble" (as Cast Members know) was in full effect at times, too, as the rain let up for most of the evening. The "Bubble" is a reference to the Park's unique ability to remain a lone dry spot in Southern California, even when the entire region is in the midst of a storm. The term arose because some guests actually wondered aloud if it was true that Disneyland has a glass dome or bubble that is turned on to keep out the elements. To Cast Members hoping to avoid a closing shift due to inclement weather, the "Bubble" was a term of frustration. You would call in to see if you were still scheduled only to be told---Yes. Really? It's pouring where I live and hasn't let up all day! Um. Not at the Park. There's a break in the clouds above us and we can see sky. See you at 5:00 p.m., don't be late for your shift.
Okay. Where was I?
Oh yeah. Rain, Disneyland, Cold.
My youngest and I spent some rare time inside "Innoventions." The attraction is pretty much only good for keeping you dry in a rainstorm. Being 7, she actually enjoyed walking around and looking at the "house of the future." You mean someday people will have flat panel big screen TVs in their homes? No way!
While we wandered in "The Future," my dear wife and older daughter braved the elements and even made their way onto Casey Junior. A cell phone call advised me to meet them at Tiki Room and that they were cold and wanted hot chocolate---Stat!
We met at the Tiki lanai, took in the show and headed to New Orleans Square after we left the theater.
Mint Julep Bar.
They have hot cocoa, beignets and funnel cakes.
We rounded the corner and found a small line of guests at the service counter.
When it was my turn, I approached and placed our order. The cast member working there was Susy. She was on until 11:45 p.m., I learned by pestering her. She was very nice and a testament to what a cast member can and should be. I teased her, as I am wont to do, and she smilingly went along with it.
"Name?" she asked as she took my order.
"Mike."
"We already have a 'Mike' ahead of you."
"I'm the better 'Mike,'" I said, "Put that down."
She looked up and laughed. And started writing.
"Hey!" said the "other" 'Mike' standing to our left and waiting for his order. "I'm the BEST 'Mike!'"
My wife, all too familiar with her husband goofing around with guests and cast members for no apparent reason, cringed slightly and rolled her eyes.
"He better give you a five dollar tip!" announced the "other" Mike as I stood at the counter before Susy.
Ouch.
I smiled and walked over to "Mike."
"Hi, I'm Mike Kelly," I said shaking his hand firmly and smiling that mischievous smile that comes from years in the Jungle.
"Mike Valero, pleased to meet you."
"Where are you from? Cold and wet enough for you?"
"Connecticut. This is a dream compared to the weather back home. I was in Hawaii on business and we stopped here on the way back home."
Mike introduced us to his wife and we told them we envied their recent trip to Hawaii.
In the end, we both agreed we were pretty darn good "Mikes" and would consider it a draw. They left, sipping their hot coffees and heading off toward the Rivers of America.
"'Better Mike,' your order is ready!" announced Susy's fellow cast member from behind the "Pick Up" window.
"Why, thank you, my dear," I said taking our cups of warm libations and poking my head low to call into the Julep Bar window. "Good work, Susy!! As you can see, I eliminated all confusion at the pick up window by drawing the distinction of being the "Better Mike." Susy flashed a Disney smile and wished us a fond "Good Evening!" as we left with our order.
I should have snapped her picture with the cell phone camera, but I'll have to immortalize her here with this brief---ok, not-so-brief---mention.
She brightened our cold, damp evening with a cheerful smile, a good attitude, hot coffee and cocoa and funnel cake, too.
In our best nod to the classic TV show Hee-Haw, Jungle is "101" salutes Susy, French Market Mint Julep Bar closing shift cast member from Friday, February 18, 2011.
SAL-LUTE!
We now return you to your regularly scheduled daily activities.
Oh, and if you should see Susy at the French Market during your next trip to Disneyland---tell her the "Better Mike" says hello!
---Mike
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