So I wake up on Sunday morning, and before I even know which way is up, I notice Mommy and Daddy are acting geekier than usual. I’ll level with you, I try to be patient with them, but before I’ve had my milky milk in the morning, sometimes I’m just not ready to deal with their crap. But they’re jumping around and spelling stuff–”M-I-C! . . . K-E-Y! . . . M-O-U-S-E!” they’re yelling. And clapping. And jumping around like lunatics. And Daddy’s like, “You just have no idea, Mini! You have NO IDEA,” and I’m like, whatever–is that maple sausage?
When they loaded me into the car, they said we were going to Anaheim. All I know about Anaheim is that there is a baseball team that plays in Anaheim that calls itself the “Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim,” which is, like, the stupidest name ever. Because everybody knows Anaheim is behind The Orange Curtain and not part of LA. And also, if you translate that first part from Spanish, then you are left with “The Angels Angels of Anaheim.” “Angel’s Angels?” Is that like “actor’s actor” or “comedian’s comedian”? I don’t know. And, like I’ve always said, marketing is a strange thing.
When we got to Anaheim, I discovered we’re going to a place called “Disneyland,” which is an “amusement park” and home to some dude called Mickey Mouse who is apparently a big deal, even if I’ve never heard of him. It costs a small fortune to get in to this “amusement park.” Well, unless you’re under 3, like me–then it’s free. But Daddy didn’t complain, he just paid the money, no questions asked. And I was thinking, “I thought there was a recession? How is this place even staying in business? The overhead on those giant fake pumpkin mouse heads must be insane.”
Well, I didn’t know it then, but I was about to find out that Disneyland–not unlike an international airport–in effect constitutes its own separate economy. For reasons I do not understand, Disneyland appears to effectively operate independently from all of the known economic markets, domestic and foreign, and as such is able to set its own price points and market controls. In this way, Mickey Mouse operates his own private fiefdom while remaining virtually untouched by the financial worries of the outside world. There could be another Great Depression going on outside the gates of Disneyland, but inside, $7 is still a fair price for a diet coke. And they have no welfare system, no homeless, and virtually no crime, so it’s tough to argue with the Mouse way of life. As the artful dodger might say, “It’s capital.”
In order to get into Disneyland, we had to walk past the craptastic California Adventure park. Daddy said he went there one time, and then demanded to have his money back. It was that stupid. That said, I will admit I was impressed by their inventive use of candycorn in the place of the “A”s in their sign.
By this time, I was starting to get pretty anxious to find out what was inside the park. So I began walking with a purpose.
Well, I did until Mommy picked me up and started giving me belly blows. She’s so embarrassing.
What a crazy place! I had no idea anything like this existed. Nobody ever told me. And the craziness! We saw all kinds of different characters, including that woman who was the housekeeper on The Brady Bunch.
And these guys, who must have just gotten out of a rave. They were definitely on something, if you know what I mean.
The first thing we did was go on the Jungle Book ride. I know it’s supposed to be lighthearted and funny and everything, but to be honest I found it culturally offensive. There was a lot of problematic post-colonial imagery and racist iconography that I felt was inappropriate. Take this totem pole, for example.
Just what are we supposed to learn from this? Naturally, the white man is on top, marking him as both the biggest coward and the most powerful individual in the group. And the native guides are left at the bottom to bear the brunt of the rhinoceros’ anger? An anger incited by the white man’s desire to rape and pillage their native homelands? And in the background, the hyena just stands and laughs and laughs. Aren’t we past this?
Now, Mickey’s Toon Town, that was a place I could really get into. And I say that in spite of the fact that the first thing we did there was to go on the Roger Rabbit ride.
We shan’t speak of that ride and what happened while we were on it. But suffice to say that once the horror had ended, my adrenaline was flowing and I was ready to walk with a purpose again.
I stopped by Minnie Mouse’s house and checked my email.
And while I was there, I put a couple things in her dishwasher for her, because I know she can use a hand with her housework.
At Goofy’s house, I looked at all the sunflowers. Nice, I said.
And by this time Mommy was getting tired, so we rested a little in Goofy’s yard. Goofy leaves all of his clothes out to dry in his yard, including his underwear!
But one of my favorite things to do, by far, was to help steer Donald Duck’s ship.
While I was steering the ship, a much older kid pretended to hit me on the head with a karate chop. I thought it was pretty lame, but I’m not a tattle tale. Well, Mommy must have seen it, because later, when the same kid crushed my finger into one of the buttons on the boat controls, Mommy referred to him as a “sociopath” and his Mommy made him apologize. But I was like, “Whatever, dude.”
After that we went to lunch. And Mommy took the children’s menu and put it on her head. And she told Daddy, “Go on, take your picture, funny man.” So he did.
And then we played peekaboo. I am really too old for this game. But she seems to enjoy it so much, I don’t want to hurt her feelings.
After lunch we went for a train ride around the park. It was almost naptime, so Mommy said we’d have to come back another day to do all the things we didn’t have time for. I was glad to hear that Disneyland is so close, because I’ve got my eye on Space Mountain. Based on my current growth rate, I should be tall enough to go on it by June. It was a pretty good day, overall.
Oh yeah! I almost forgot! Guess who I’m gonna be for Halloween?
I Visit the Happiest Place On Earth and Meet This Dude Called Mickey Mouse, Who Seems Pretty Cool. By Mini Right-Click.