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(Here we go, first attempt.)
I spend a lot of time in the park doing very little. I have some health issues that mandate some pretty frequent rest stops some days, and I'm generally a shiftless layabout and can't be bothered to exert myself for eight hours straight on my days off.
I spend most of this time relaxing and observing people and what they do. Note that these two things do not always happen concurrently. All too often, relaxation is absolutely impossible while watching people at Disneyland these days. There's just no way a sane man can relax while watching the puzzling way some people behave in the park.
Now, this could easily become just another Micechat post ranting about kamakaze strollers, rampant smokers, or a multitude of other frequently-rehashed flamebait we see around here. I'm determined to steer clear of that.
I make no promises on that.
I DO promise that this is amazingly, unacceptibly long and probably isn't worth even a quarter of the amount of time it'll take you to actually read. I'd still really like it if you did, you may even be amused at one point or other.
1. The Left/Right Thing.
It exists all over Disneyland, from the entrance to the parking structure all the way to the trams on the way out. You have two or more ways in or out of a situation: left and right. Being the herd animals that they are, people almost -always- go to the right. This is most obvious at Pirates of the Caribbean. Two separate lines, right and left. Even though the left line takes a much longer route, it's almost always faster to take the left line. Why? Because nobody goes into it! Restaurants, attractions, the list goes on...everyone goes to the right.
Except for the British.
2. Responding To Inanimate Objects, NOT Responding To Living People
The Tiki Room is a great show, I'll be the first to admit that. Those birds are timeless, and people of all ages get into it, clapping at the right times and singing along with Jose and the boys. There's nothing wrong with it, and if you spend much time there on Sunday evenings, chances are you'll hear my stirring rendition of 'Let's All Sing Like The Birdies Sing' belted out from the back right wall near the exit door, right down to the whistling segment. (Except for the last part when it gets really high. Even the Dole Whip isn't tart enough to spur the level of puckering required to hit notes that high.)
Now, imagine yourself, if you will, on a Jungle Cruise. That's a real live human there, putting their own personal creative touch to spiels created by Walt and his original WDI crew fifty long years ago. Listen, in your mind, as they do a particularly excellent and entertaining job throughout the ride. Now, focus on what happens when the boat returns to the dock.
Do you hear the crickets? So do I. Every single time I ride these attractions.
I do not and will never understand why people regularly and habitually applaud plastic automatons and exploding fireworks yet look upon hardworking cast members with glassy-eyed gazes best suited for a Romero movie.
3. Inappropriate Stopping
There are 10 of you.
I understand you're all together.
I get that you may not spend much time together.
Smack in the middle of the junction where Pirates exits and the Bayou and Cafe Orleans enter is not the place to stop and chat for 25 minutes. Yes, I'm sure. Find a Denny's. It's much cheaper than 10 Park Hoppers, and the coffee refills are free.
4. Chatting During Attractions/Shows
I'm not talking about discussing the ride, or even just generally being noisy. I'm speaking about those who spend the -entire time- having deep and detailed conversations about things that have no bearing whatsoever to what's going on around them. It's as if they were so embroiled in conversation that they accidentally purchased Disneyland tickets, entered the park, and wandered into the queue for Pirates or Small World or whatever and will continue this conversation until security eventually escorts them out at 1am. I can only assume eventually they'll nod off somewhere and wake up the next day, starting right where they left off, wandering the streets of Los Angeles.
You'll know these folks when, after a particularly noisy event (such as one of the drops in Pirates or the finale of the stretching room on Mansion) you hear one say 'So anyway...'
Maybe I'm just a grinch, but I really don't want to hear about the Peter Frampton concert you went to in 1976 while the Wicked Wench and her crew are pummelling the walls of the city with cannon fire. Go join that big group of 10 over at Denny's. They won't notice you're there, and you won't notice them, but the rest of us will be so much happier. And STOP GOING TO THE MOVIES. You people have been in every theater of every feature film I've seen in the last five years.
My confusion over this is amplified with it's one person on a cell phone.
5. Ticket Taking Mayhem
'Why yes, this is my family of six. What? Oh, you want to see our tickets! Oh, well, hang on, I think they're at the bottom of this diaper bag, give me about 27 minutes and we'll have those all ready for ya.'
'Yes, I'm an annual passholder, that's my pass. What do you mean by, 'I'm a big fat white guy?!?' My name is Tamako Yama****a! I was just thinner then...and I had plastic surgery...this is racism!'
'What do you mean it's a blackout day? Doesn't the park have power? Why are all these other people being let in? Different kinds of passes?!? Six Flags doesn't treat their customers like that!'
6. Tray Passers
It apparently comes as a shock to some people, but when you order food at a cafeteria-style service restaurant like Redd Rocket's or French Market, they will be handing you one or more plates of food and you'll be taking a drink with you.
That stack of trays at the -beginning- of the line wasn't there for show.
Inevitably, the line of people waiting turns into a conveyor belt and the trays begin surfing, person to person, down the line to the individual who completely overlooked this complex and demanding tool of modern technology.
7. Ignorant Experts
I understand that urban legends are very popular and spread with intense speed via the Internet, despite the efforts of sites like Snopes and, in our own little way, Micechat. I understand the desire for people to appear informed, in the know, and otherwise smarter than their friends and family. I do -not- under stand folks like this.
People in recent days have been engaging in statements that aren't just incorrect, they're downright wacky. I can understand not knowing that the Haunted Mansion didn't open with the rest of the park in 1955 and similar bits of trivia. However, stating that the birds in the Tiki Room used to be real is just a big step outside reality, especially considering the cast member gives a brief history of the attraction before the show even starts.
In my most recent trip through Pirates of the Caribbean, for example, a young man emphatically declared to his family that they'd 'cut a lot out of the ride'. Now, he didn't mean, they removed ride elements, oh no. 'It's a LOT shorter than it used to be! It used to be twice as long, man!'
I was tempted to say yes, it is. They removed the loop.
8. Dole Booth Confusion
I'm thrilled that the Dole booth at the Tiki room has been rebuilt, improved, and has proven to be an outrageous success. That's easy to understand, as the products there are top-notch and an essential part of the Disneyland and Tiki Room experience.
What I don't get is why people interact with the Dole booth the way they do.
This is a simple construction: two sides, two counters: one outside on the walkways of Adventureland as they enter the hub, and one inside the waiting area for the Tiki show.
I defy you to find a time when the line for the Dole booth isn't huge on the outside of the booth...and nearly non-existent on the Tiki side. I've watched people wait 20 minutes for a product, the entire time of the pre-show, when they could have just walked into the waiting area, ordered on that side of things, and then enjoyed the pre-show and the attraction instead of waiting in line doing nothing!
Last Sunday, however, I witnessed one of the most puzzling things I have ever seen. A young man with his parents had been waiting for about ten minutes during the pre-show, watching the Dole film, then he gets up and exits via the turnstile at the entrance. With nobody ordering at the waiting area side of the booth, he walks around to the outside, waits for the three people in line to be taken care of, then places his order. He pays for it, takes his treats...and walks back into the waiting area, sits down, and starts eating his Whip.
Well, first, he had to pause and explain the turnstyle to a couple who were completely stymied by it and were trying to open the small handicapped gate next to it. (Mind you, this was after 11pm, they'd been in the park all day and -must- have bumped into a turnstyle at one point.)
I just can't be expected to understand a thing like that.
9. Mesmerized By The Magic
Disney's parks are truly magical, it's one of the things that attracts me to them: the simple, childlike wonder that they instill in the hearts and minds of all who experience them.
I just get a little confused when the childlike and wonder part get a little too close to each other.
Have any of you honestly thought any of the automatons or effects within the park were real? Well, since you were seven? Yet I continually cross paths with grown adults who wonder why those birds in the Tiki room don't fly off or poop all over everything, or who are amazed they actually shot darts at them on that Indiana Jones ride.
The two best examples of this are in two things oft discussed here on Micechat. One is my infamous tale of my first post-upgrade Pirates trip where a bank (flock? herd? school?) of teenage girls were absolutely convinced that not only was Jack Sparrow real, but he was actually Johnny Depp. They were just puzzled why he wouldn't respond to their screams of love and adoration. The other is the lovely and talented Sadako's infamous photo the...intimate gift one female admirer left for, well, a robotic replication of her favorite star, the good Mr. Depp.
10. Rushing Out
I'll end this with the last thing I usually see before leaving the park each visit.
I can understand that people are overcome with excitement and rush like mad to the tram, and then from the tram to the gate, then from the gate to the first attraction of their day. I can even understand the misguided 'commando' mindframe of bustling from one attraction to another trying to cram in as much as possible into one day.
What I absolutely positively refuse to understand are the literal -multitudes- of people who seem hellbent on being the absolute first people...OUT of the park!
Even after the majority of the guests have left for the day, you'll still see a power-walking couple weaving in and out of foot traffic to get to those exit tunnels at mach 3. Why in the world would you do that? Did you just realize, at 12:27am, that you left the oven on? Are you that thrilled to exit the Happiest Place On Earth and return to your overpriced apartment in Burbank after a soul-crushing trip up the 5, dodging drunks and bleary-eyed tourists just trying to find Drew Carey's house on that map they bought?
I don't understand it. But I may have part of it sorted out. Sitting in Main Street Square after the official park close last Sunday, watching these people with their unhappy, tense faces, it dawned on me. The only way a person could spend even a portion of their day in this amazing park and yet leave so clearly unhappy and unaffected by the magic is if they never really arrived in the first place.
Oh sure, they come in, spend their money, ride the rides, watch the shows...all probably in record time, always pushing and weaving, making sure they're the first in line for every event. But they never really leave the world of today behind and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy.
They don't do this because it makes them happy. They do this because their lives are empty in some way, and all they have is the race. The constant race. We call it the rat race, but let's not demean rats like that. They have cheese at the end of the races we put them through, we usually don't even have 401k's.
We live in a society with unlimited potential, but these people have chosen to remain blind to that potential and continue to pursue what they believe will make them happy...except that they have no idea what that would be. Their jobs do not satisfy, their relationships are troubled and floundering, the have no idea who their parents are OR who their children are (either literally or intimately) so they chase...nothing. But chase they do, constantly, ceaselessly.
It's not important that they're the first one to get the bagel at the coffee shop each morning, even if it means shoving and shouting. It means nothing if they swerve ahead of me on that freeway exit and gain two whole car lengths. It also doesn't mean anything if they rush past people as they exit Disneyland...but these victories, empty as they may be, are all they have. They're just as empty after these 'victories' as they are when they began, and the prize is another pointless, fruitless race with a finish line in futility.
I'll never understand that, even if I can analyze it and put it in words. I hope you, dear reader, never understand it either. I'd also ask that the next time you see someone racing, whether it's inside Disneyland or not, that you'll do what you can to get them to realize that success is found in and outside the park not by going, but by stopping. Stopping to notice what's all around, the people they're surrounded by, the sights they're ignoring in their hurry. If they do that, they'll discover an entire world of goals to pursue that don't require fast feet, sharp elbows, or loud voices. Then, maybe, if the wind is right, they might find something worth racing for.
That's all for now. I thank you for your patience in getting through this silly little bit of fluff. I appreciate any and all feedback, as positive or negative as it might be.
I spend a lot of time in the park doing very little. I have some health issues that mandate some pretty frequent rest stops some days, and I'm generally a shiftless layabout and can't be bothered to exert myself for eight hours straight on my days off.
I spend most of this time relaxing and observing people and what they do. Note that these two things do not always happen concurrently. All too often, relaxation is absolutely impossible while watching people at Disneyland these days. There's just no way a sane man can relax while watching the puzzling way some people behave in the park.
Now, this could easily become just another Micechat post ranting about kamakaze strollers, rampant smokers, or a multitude of other frequently-rehashed flamebait we see around here. I'm determined to steer clear of that.
I make no promises on that.
I DO promise that this is amazingly, unacceptibly long and probably isn't worth even a quarter of the amount of time it'll take you to actually read. I'd still really like it if you did, you may even be amused at one point or other.
1. The Left/Right Thing.
It exists all over Disneyland, from the entrance to the parking structure all the way to the trams on the way out. You have two or more ways in or out of a situation: left and right. Being the herd animals that they are, people almost -always- go to the right. This is most obvious at Pirates of the Caribbean. Two separate lines, right and left. Even though the left line takes a much longer route, it's almost always faster to take the left line. Why? Because nobody goes into it! Restaurants, attractions, the list goes on...everyone goes to the right.
Except for the British.
2. Responding To Inanimate Objects, NOT Responding To Living People
The Tiki Room is a great show, I'll be the first to admit that. Those birds are timeless, and people of all ages get into it, clapping at the right times and singing along with Jose and the boys. There's nothing wrong with it, and if you spend much time there on Sunday evenings, chances are you'll hear my stirring rendition of 'Let's All Sing Like The Birdies Sing' belted out from the back right wall near the exit door, right down to the whistling segment. (Except for the last part when it gets really high. Even the Dole Whip isn't tart enough to spur the level of puckering required to hit notes that high.)
Now, imagine yourself, if you will, on a Jungle Cruise. That's a real live human there, putting their own personal creative touch to spiels created by Walt and his original WDI crew fifty long years ago. Listen, in your mind, as they do a particularly excellent and entertaining job throughout the ride. Now, focus on what happens when the boat returns to the dock.
Do you hear the crickets? So do I. Every single time I ride these attractions.
I do not and will never understand why people regularly and habitually applaud plastic automatons and exploding fireworks yet look upon hardworking cast members with glassy-eyed gazes best suited for a Romero movie.
3. Inappropriate Stopping
There are 10 of you.
I understand you're all together.
I get that you may not spend much time together.
Smack in the middle of the junction where Pirates exits and the Bayou and Cafe Orleans enter is not the place to stop and chat for 25 minutes. Yes, I'm sure. Find a Denny's. It's much cheaper than 10 Park Hoppers, and the coffee refills are free.
4. Chatting During Attractions/Shows
I'm not talking about discussing the ride, or even just generally being noisy. I'm speaking about those who spend the -entire time- having deep and detailed conversations about things that have no bearing whatsoever to what's going on around them. It's as if they were so embroiled in conversation that they accidentally purchased Disneyland tickets, entered the park, and wandered into the queue for Pirates or Small World or whatever and will continue this conversation until security eventually escorts them out at 1am. I can only assume eventually they'll nod off somewhere and wake up the next day, starting right where they left off, wandering the streets of Los Angeles.
You'll know these folks when, after a particularly noisy event (such as one of the drops in Pirates or the finale of the stretching room on Mansion) you hear one say 'So anyway...'
Maybe I'm just a grinch, but I really don't want to hear about the Peter Frampton concert you went to in 1976 while the Wicked Wench and her crew are pummelling the walls of the city with cannon fire. Go join that big group of 10 over at Denny's. They won't notice you're there, and you won't notice them, but the rest of us will be so much happier. And STOP GOING TO THE MOVIES. You people have been in every theater of every feature film I've seen in the last five years.
My confusion over this is amplified with it's one person on a cell phone.
5. Ticket Taking Mayhem
'Why yes, this is my family of six. What? Oh, you want to see our tickets! Oh, well, hang on, I think they're at the bottom of this diaper bag, give me about 27 minutes and we'll have those all ready for ya.'
'Yes, I'm an annual passholder, that's my pass. What do you mean by, 'I'm a big fat white guy?!?' My name is Tamako Yama****a! I was just thinner then...and I had plastic surgery...this is racism!'
'What do you mean it's a blackout day? Doesn't the park have power? Why are all these other people being let in? Different kinds of passes?!? Six Flags doesn't treat their customers like that!'
6. Tray Passers
It apparently comes as a shock to some people, but when you order food at a cafeteria-style service restaurant like Redd Rocket's or French Market, they will be handing you one or more plates of food and you'll be taking a drink with you.
That stack of trays at the -beginning- of the line wasn't there for show.
Inevitably, the line of people waiting turns into a conveyor belt and the trays begin surfing, person to person, down the line to the individual who completely overlooked this complex and demanding tool of modern technology.
7. Ignorant Experts
I understand that urban legends are very popular and spread with intense speed via the Internet, despite the efforts of sites like Snopes and, in our own little way, Micechat. I understand the desire for people to appear informed, in the know, and otherwise smarter than their friends and family. I do -not- under stand folks like this.
People in recent days have been engaging in statements that aren't just incorrect, they're downright wacky. I can understand not knowing that the Haunted Mansion didn't open with the rest of the park in 1955 and similar bits of trivia. However, stating that the birds in the Tiki Room used to be real is just a big step outside reality, especially considering the cast member gives a brief history of the attraction before the show even starts.
In my most recent trip through Pirates of the Caribbean, for example, a young man emphatically declared to his family that they'd 'cut a lot out of the ride'. Now, he didn't mean, they removed ride elements, oh no. 'It's a LOT shorter than it used to be! It used to be twice as long, man!'
I was tempted to say yes, it is. They removed the loop.
8. Dole Booth Confusion
I'm thrilled that the Dole booth at the Tiki room has been rebuilt, improved, and has proven to be an outrageous success. That's easy to understand, as the products there are top-notch and an essential part of the Disneyland and Tiki Room experience.
What I don't get is why people interact with the Dole booth the way they do.
This is a simple construction: two sides, two counters: one outside on the walkways of Adventureland as they enter the hub, and one inside the waiting area for the Tiki show.
I defy you to find a time when the line for the Dole booth isn't huge on the outside of the booth...and nearly non-existent on the Tiki side. I've watched people wait 20 minutes for a product, the entire time of the pre-show, when they could have just walked into the waiting area, ordered on that side of things, and then enjoyed the pre-show and the attraction instead of waiting in line doing nothing!
Last Sunday, however, I witnessed one of the most puzzling things I have ever seen. A young man with his parents had been waiting for about ten minutes during the pre-show, watching the Dole film, then he gets up and exits via the turnstile at the entrance. With nobody ordering at the waiting area side of the booth, he walks around to the outside, waits for the three people in line to be taken care of, then places his order. He pays for it, takes his treats...and walks back into the waiting area, sits down, and starts eating his Whip.
Well, first, he had to pause and explain the turnstyle to a couple who were completely stymied by it and were trying to open the small handicapped gate next to it. (Mind you, this was after 11pm, they'd been in the park all day and -must- have bumped into a turnstyle at one point.)
I just can't be expected to understand a thing like that.
9. Mesmerized By The Magic
Disney's parks are truly magical, it's one of the things that attracts me to them: the simple, childlike wonder that they instill in the hearts and minds of all who experience them.
I just get a little confused when the childlike and wonder part get a little too close to each other.
Have any of you honestly thought any of the automatons or effects within the park were real? Well, since you were seven? Yet I continually cross paths with grown adults who wonder why those birds in the Tiki room don't fly off or poop all over everything, or who are amazed they actually shot darts at them on that Indiana Jones ride.
The two best examples of this are in two things oft discussed here on Micechat. One is my infamous tale of my first post-upgrade Pirates trip where a bank (flock? herd? school?) of teenage girls were absolutely convinced that not only was Jack Sparrow real, but he was actually Johnny Depp. They were just puzzled why he wouldn't respond to their screams of love and adoration. The other is the lovely and talented Sadako's infamous photo the...intimate gift one female admirer left for, well, a robotic replication of her favorite star, the good Mr. Depp.
10. Rushing Out
I'll end this with the last thing I usually see before leaving the park each visit.
I can understand that people are overcome with excitement and rush like mad to the tram, and then from the tram to the gate, then from the gate to the first attraction of their day. I can even understand the misguided 'commando' mindframe of bustling from one attraction to another trying to cram in as much as possible into one day.
What I absolutely positively refuse to understand are the literal -multitudes- of people who seem hellbent on being the absolute first people...OUT of the park!
Even after the majority of the guests have left for the day, you'll still see a power-walking couple weaving in and out of foot traffic to get to those exit tunnels at mach 3. Why in the world would you do that? Did you just realize, at 12:27am, that you left the oven on? Are you that thrilled to exit the Happiest Place On Earth and return to your overpriced apartment in Burbank after a soul-crushing trip up the 5, dodging drunks and bleary-eyed tourists just trying to find Drew Carey's house on that map they bought?
I don't understand it. But I may have part of it sorted out. Sitting in Main Street Square after the official park close last Sunday, watching these people with their unhappy, tense faces, it dawned on me. The only way a person could spend even a portion of their day in this amazing park and yet leave so clearly unhappy and unaffected by the magic is if they never really arrived in the first place.
Oh sure, they come in, spend their money, ride the rides, watch the shows...all probably in record time, always pushing and weaving, making sure they're the first in line for every event. But they never really leave the world of today behind and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow, and fantasy.
They don't do this because it makes them happy. They do this because their lives are empty in some way, and all they have is the race. The constant race. We call it the rat race, but let's not demean rats like that. They have cheese at the end of the races we put them through, we usually don't even have 401k's.
We live in a society with unlimited potential, but these people have chosen to remain blind to that potential and continue to pursue what they believe will make them happy...except that they have no idea what that would be. Their jobs do not satisfy, their relationships are troubled and floundering, the have no idea who their parents are OR who their children are (either literally or intimately) so they chase...nothing. But chase they do, constantly, ceaselessly.
It's not important that they're the first one to get the bagel at the coffee shop each morning, even if it means shoving and shouting. It means nothing if they swerve ahead of me on that freeway exit and gain two whole car lengths. It also doesn't mean anything if they rush past people as they exit Disneyland...but these victories, empty as they may be, are all they have. They're just as empty after these 'victories' as they are when they began, and the prize is another pointless, fruitless race with a finish line in futility.
I'll never understand that, even if I can analyze it and put it in words. I hope you, dear reader, never understand it either. I'd also ask that the next time you see someone racing, whether it's inside Disneyland or not, that you'll do what you can to get them to realize that success is found in and outside the park not by going, but by stopping. Stopping to notice what's all around, the people they're surrounded by, the sights they're ignoring in their hurry. If they do that, they'll discover an entire world of goals to pursue that don't require fast feet, sharp elbows, or loud voices. Then, maybe, if the wind is right, they might find something worth racing for.
That's all for now. I thank you for your patience in getting through this silly little bit of fluff. I appreciate any and all feedback, as positive or negative as it might be.
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