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"My 2 Cents!"
Zamgwar Gets Re-Moused
article appeared in the
March 27, 2001, Issue #78 of ALL EARS® (ISSN: 1533-0753)
place is too crowded." "It's so commercial -- I mean Main Street
is nothing but stores!" "They've taken away my favorite
attractions." "It's so
expensive!" "It's lost its charm." "It's just not the same."
Have you ever heard someone say any of these quotes about our favorite 40 square miles of Florida?
While comparing a week at Mousedom with your checkbook balance, have YOU ever found yourself saying any of these?
I must admit, there are times when even this Disney-loving columnist has been less than enthused about jetting off to the land of Dole Whips and Kaki Gori. In fact on my last trip down, I boarded the plane as the "husband grudgingly in tow."
Who Must Be Obeyed" assured me all along that it would be fine when
I got there, that I was just suffering from a momentary brain cloud.
I wasn't so sure.
Even immediately after arriving, I was not really feeling the Mouse.
But that's because I was looking in the wrong places. It wasn't the sparkle of the Main Street Electrical parade, or the soft colors at Cinderella Castle that re-moused me. Nor was it any of the new attractions I rode, parades I saw or characters I hugged. It wasn't the Mouse live in person, nor was it the fireworks that burst so brilliantly over my head.
It was the people who re-moused me.
Cast Members who participate in the newsgroup Rec.Arts.Disney.Parks who offered me personal assistance, covertly over the web, to try to overcome my de-mousing. Operators at Disney, who put me through to places most can't get into.
Folks in Central Reservations who patiently played and played with me, through my dozens of phone calls, as I went through my "should I or shouldn't I go?" phase.
It was the traditionally dressed Jewish and Arab families that wound up face to face, as the line stopped in opposite directions on the Spaceship Earth queue. They both immediately started laughing at the irony of it, threw up their hands, and in unison said "Mickey Mouse!" making a hand gesture like "It's different here."
It was the Asian girl, about 4 years old, speaking very excitedly in her own language. While I didn't understand most of what she was saying, her "Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse" as she pointed to an item in a store, was clear as a bell.
It was the two young lovers dancing vigorously to the "Baroque Hoedown" after the Main Street Electrical Parade, ending it in a grand twirl and a passionate kiss.
It was the wide-smiling conductor at the Main Street Station (better known to many as Zazu) who took the time to point out DOZENS of things I had never seen before.
It was all those wacky computer people I met.
It was the delightful unnamed CM, who, seeing the sadness in my face at the wait-time of what was to be my last ride at Disney, slipped me two Fastpasses and said, "Have your last one on Mickey."
It was the two truck drivers dressed like Hell's Angels members, with Mickey's Luau leis around their necks. In a dark alley you'd run from them. On a bridge at Port Orleans - Riverside, they became long-lost friends.
It was the
young African-American family I had breakfast with at the former Dixie
Landings, whose father jokingly said, "After 200 years of
fighting the bonds of slavery, here I am happily spending $134 a night to sleep at a cotton plantation." I had some great fun all morning with those folks and how excited their kids were to see Mickey Mouse.
It was the couple in their 70s who were giggling behind me all though Rock 'N' Roller Coaster.
It was the look and smiles on everyone's faces, all enjoying the wonder around them, linking directly back to a little black and white, pen and ink mouse, driving a steam boat.
After all, Walt only created the mouse. It takes people to make him real.
That's My2Cnts... What's yours?
Office of the Re- Moused
The Zamgwar Institute