By Paul Clark (aka motomynd)
[The first installment of this story, with the subtitle “Or Just Too Smart for Adults?,” appeared on October 30 last year.]
When my son was 2-years, 8-months old, he and I were getting on an elevator in Anaheim when a 40ish woman joined us. She was headed for Disney and was decked out in a bulging yellow and black tightly stretched lycra mouseketeer-like outfit and some sort of bee-like pseudo-princess headband with flashing lights - apparently a Junior Leaguer who had not taken an objective look in a mirror in quite a while. She looked at me, looked at my son, and practically screamed: “Is your grandpa taking you to Disney?!!?”
My son retreated to the back wall of the elevator, looked at me, looked back at her, and said, “What are you?”
She said “you mean who am I?”
He repeated, “No, what are you?”
She said something like “Would you believe I’m a bee and I’m going to fly around Disney?”
He said, “No. What is that crazy outfit?”
“This is how you dress to go to Disney. Are you going dressed like that?” (He was wearing shorts, t-shirt and running shoes.)
My son said, “We’re going trail running. Why would I want to go to Disney?”
She looked at me: “You’re not taking him to Disney?”
“Only if someone abducts us at gunpoint.”
She stepped back and glared at me. “You’re not being a very good grandfather.”
My son spoke up. “Actually, he’s my dad. My grampa is back home in Virginia.”
You could almost hear the wheels spinning as she did the math. Then she crossed her arms, spun toward the door, and didn’t speak or look at us again. When the door opened, she practically stormed out of the elevator.
My son just stood there, obviously perplexed. “What on earth?” was all he said.
As we headed down the street rows of kids were seemingly everywhere, linked together like dog teams, being pulled, pushed and prodded toward Disney by eager adults.
“Are they being arrested?” my son asked.
“No, they’re just going to Disney. Do you want to go?”
“Do I have to go?”
“No. But we can if you wish.”
“No. I really want to go trail running.”
And so we went trail running. Back at the hotel I had my wife ask him if he would like to go to Disney.
His answer to her was “No. But can we go to a beach?”
The next day we both again asked him, “Do you want to go to Disney, or to the beach?”
“Why do you keep bugging me about going to Disney? I already said I wanted to go to the beach.”
So we did that three-mile run/walk on Huntington Beach that I mentioned on October 30, and we stayed to enjoy a magnificent sunset.
Apparently kids can live very happily without Disney, even if their Disney-indoctrinated parents and grandparents refuse to believe it.
| Copyright © 2021 by Paul Clark |
I just have one question---have you or your wife been to Disneyland at some time in another life? And Happy 2021 everybody.
ReplyDeleteEd, my apologies for a belated reply. No, neither my wife nor I have ever been to Disney, in this life or any other, as for as I know. Neither of us ever had a desire to go to Disney, or had parents who pushed us to go to Disney, and all our lives others have regarded us with thinly veiled suspicion over this, and have been quick to point out all we have missed by not going to Disney. Determined to be "proper American parents" and raise our son to perhaps fit in with his peers better than we ever have with ours, we go out of our way to push him into places and activities that never enticed us. So far we seem to be failing, as this "Disney" piece illustrates. Despite our efforts to immerse him in activities aimed at children his age, the only places our son has requested to go are the 24 Hours of Le Mans, the Grand Canyon, and fly-fishing for trout in Colorado. But he is only six, maybe he will come around and learn to be a typical American kid before he is too old to be one.
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