The Happiest Commercial on Earth

Yesterday Stacy and I braved the rampant consumerism and took our daughter "L" and son "N" to the Happiest Commercial on Earth.

While I love to hate Disney and its full-frontal marketing assault, I have to admit a grudging admiration for them in several aspects. What I really do love most is the attention to detail that pervades all the structures of the park. Kitschy Disney memorabilia aside, the art inherent in the park design is truly fascinating. I can spend hours appreciating all the thought that went into the faux-architecture, how every plastic thatched roof or fiberglass-molded log has been painstakingly designed to look real, but "cartoony" (for lack of a better word). Every building is a distillation (sometimes into absurdity) of some real or fantastical period architecture. And its all manipulated to bring about the whole "world apart" and "hidden paradise" illusion.

I've been told that the scale of the buildings that line Main Street get slowly smaller as you walk into park. This supposedly gives the illusion, standing at the entrance and looking down, that the street is much longer than it is, receding as it seems, in the distance. I've looked and tried to decide if it was true. I can't tell for sure, but the thought that they might have done something that clever seems to fit these folks.

But all philosophizing aside, the kids had a blast. N was enamored of Pluto while L would have nothing to do with him. When it came to the rides, L was quite fearless. There is one kid-friendly rollercoaster there that L was big enough to go on, though watching it go by, it definitely seemed geared for kids twice her age. But She wanted to ride it and I agreed, smelling a disaster in the making. At the first drop I vaguely remember hearing her scream like I've never heard her before and was sure she was was going to be a snivelling basketcase when we were done (which fortunately was VERY quickly - I guess that makes it kid-friendly). Stacy, watching from the sidelines with N, was shocked and convinced our daughter was going to be traumatized for life. But as soon as we deboarded she was begging to get on again. I was rather stunned.

All in all, she was pant-wetting excited the whole day. I think N was just happy to be out of his prisonlike playpen. And truth be told, Stacy and I had as much fun as the kids... The best part was, of course, the 45 minutes of perfect peace on the drive home with two sacked-out park-rats in the backseat.