The Everlasting Ribbons of Highway
I’ve already said before that I love to drive. There’s just some kind of euphoria that comes to me while behind the wheel of a vehicle travelling at 85 mph, and I don’t think that kind of a drug is ever going to lose its high.
In any case, a little while ago, a couple friends and I went on a road trip to Hollywood to go see Wicked. (I know what you’re thinking – “AGAIN? What’s wrong with this guy?”) To be honest, though, the other two hadn’t seen it yet, and so I volunteered to drive, because I really wanted to see it again, too. If you haven’t read my praising review of the show yet, then I invite you to do so. (You can find it here.)
But despite my self-proclaimed love affair with the open road, I have to admit that this trip could have done with a bit more planning, and that we certainly paid for it tenfold over the course of our rather adventurous journey.
The first oversight was that we drove my car. Now, I have a well-maintained Honda that can easily take the mileage, and I have full trust in my car. However, it’s a standard, and despite my assumptions to the contrary, neither of my other passengers drive a stick. As such, I found myself driving nearly the entire trip, totalling out around 30+ hours behind the wheel. As much as I wish that it didn’t, the drive really did a number on me.
Just to illustrate, we drove straight to Hollywood, about a 12-hour trip, and right to the Pantages Theatre, all with maybe a one-hour rest in between at a family-member’s house along the way. That’s quite a drive, let me tell you. Even in the daytime, with two good friends to keep me company and to keep my mind occupied, I was pretty wiped out.
We did find a neat little tidbit through a contact at Pantages, though. Every night, the actors are alloted a certain number of tickets for family or friends that might be attending that night. However, these tickets usually go unused, and so they are raffled off to whoever is there at 6:00 that night. Front-row seats for $25 a pop. But if you’re not one of the lucky few, there’s no need to worry. Right afterwards, they put the remaining seats on sale for $45 a piece, and so we ended up sitting about 20 rows back, which are still pretty amazing seats.
Now, back to the trip.
We sort of slept through the next day until around noon, until we had a (at the time) brilliant idea. Considering that two of us are California natives, and both thrill-seeking enthusiasts, we figured that we’d spend our afternoon at Six Flags Magic Mountain. I have an awesome contact in LA who gets really good discounts on Cali’s theme parks, and so he helped guide us downtown, where he met us to give us the tickets. But then, due to a mix-up with directions, we missed to 405 turn-off, and realized we’d made a mistake when we saw the Thousand Oaks exit. Basically, we wasted about three hours just trying to get there, and so we pulled up around 5:00. We then decided it’d be a better idea to go the next day, considering that they close at six. (We did stop at In-N-Out, though, so I did feel a lot better about that.)
That’s kind of how the trip went for us. We’d get directions from someone, and they’d end up being unclear, or missing a crucial part, and we’d go off-track. And I mean really off track.
On the way home, we headed to Palmdale, trying to find the I-15 east, and weren’t sure which way to go. I mean, I had a vague idea, but since we took a different route coming in, I thought I’d check. But, after getting bad directions from a gas station trying to find the I-15 and ending up deep in Lancaster, I pulled off to fuel up and bought the one thing that we should have had the entire trip – a $5 road map. From there, we figured out where we were, plotted out our course, and we were on our way.
12 more hours of driving, and four or more Rockstars later, we finally made it back home. It was just one of those experiences that, while you’re in it, you don’t know if you’re really having fun or not. I mean, you are, but you realize the amount of work and hassle that it took to get there, and it crosses your mind whether it was worth it all. But then, you realize that these are the kinds of experiences that you only get to have at a certain time of your life. While you’re young and single, with no strings attached. I figure you’ve got to live life to the fullest, in every single stage of it, and so I’ll always look back on this cooky road trip and smile.
And that is most definitely worth 30 hours behind the wheel.
- Kyle
The Random Meeting
I started taking the bus about two months ago to work, which is about a one-hour ride. It’s dark when I get up, and I’m tired when I get home, but that’s part of the work that you’ve got to do, right?
Anyway, when I was riding the other day, I noticed a little random meeting that seemed pretty interesting to me. As you might know, I have a tendency to see scenes as I’m walking down the street. Maybe it’s the lego-builder imagination that’s still in me, but I try to imagine what might be instead of what is.
There was a fellow walking up the aisle, headed for a seat, with a book in his hand. As he walked, he looked away for a second, and bumped into a girl who was sitting just across from the seat he was headed for. Coincidentally, she had the very same book in her hands. There was a quick glance, an apology, and then both sat down in their respective seats, not three feet from one another, and opened their books to read.
In my mind’s eye, this was no chance encounter. This is something that drips of destiny’s intervention. I kept on wondering what might have actually happened had either of them taken the chance to say “Hello, how are you?” Or even “Wow, we’re both reading the same book! Weird, huh?” There is potential for a romance, a friendship, a story! Coincidences happen so infrequently in real life that I think we need to grasp onto them when they rear their faces.
My invitation? Say hello to somebody. Sure, they might think it’s a little weird at first, but there are so many people who are just longing for a kind word, a smile, a joke, or even just a momentary acquaintance to make them feel good. And just think… The source of that happy little sigh could be you.
- Kyle
Growing Up With The Magic Kingdom
Growing up, my family and I traditionally went to an amusement park every year. It was just something that we did, and that we still do, actually, whenever we get the chance. For that, though, we would head down to Southern California. I’ve been to Universal Studios™, Knott’s Berry Farm™, Six Flags: Magic Mountain™, and Sea World™, a number of times apiece. But the one place that we seemed to go the most was Disneyland™, in Anahiem.
Now, the Magic Kingdom has evolved and changed a lot from year to year. I’m of the audience that I remember staying late to watch the Main Street Electrical Parade; I remember the People Movers, The Hall of Presidents, and even Captain EO when Michael Jackson was still cool. And who coudl forget the Skyway that passed right through the Matterhorn? I can also remember when Toon Town first opened, and was actually brand new, and I was there when the Indiana Jones ride was first passing out the cool little cipher cards.
I also saw the changes. I remember when they moved the Tomorrowland rockets from the roof in the center down to the front of Tomorrowland. I remember when the Swiss Family Treehouse was updated into the Tarzan Treehouse. I remember the brief stint of the Rocket Rods, and then the introduction of Astro Blasters.
The thing is, though, is that there have been a lot of internal changes at Disneyland as well. When I was younger, it truly was a place of magic. From the monorail, to the Pirates of the Carribean, to the Haunted Mansion, to the interesting animatronics that engulfed everything, it all just held a sense of wonder. But it wasn’t just that. The people who were working there, from the ride operators to the monorail drivers, to the garbage collectors, and even the guys driving the shuttles to parking at the end of the night, all of them were smiling, happy people who realized that this was a place of personal magic, where everything would and should contribute to the experience of each and every person who walked through the gates.
On my last visit there, however, after a three-year sabattical, I had a slightly different experience. The place was crowded, but I sort of expected that. Disneyland’s fame has sort of out-grown it’s landscape. But what seemed to bother me was the role shift that many of the workers had experienced. Because there was just such a large volume of people, many of the workers had changed in their roles from “Cast Members” to “Crowd Control.” As night approached, they would be there, with their little light-sticks, waving us to go this way or that, and telling us to keep moving, without regard to the fact that some of us were actually there to enjoy the experience.
Just by example, we had a group of fourteen people that we were trying to keep together. I was walking along, when we were sort of “swept up” into the rope-tethered river of people that was being directed to go a certain direction. It was no use fighting the current, and since we were going that way anyways, we didn’t really worry about it.
But as we were going, our group became seperated, and I only had three others of our party with me. So, we found a wide path in front of the Frontierland gate and stopped to wait. Immediately we were surrounded by three workers with their little sticks, telling us that we couldn’t stop there. Now, there wasn’t anyone else around us. I specifically picked that spot because the path was wide and there wasn’t a lot of traffic.
We explained that we were waiting for the rest of our group, and that we would stand out of the way. He protested at first, saying that we were blocking traffic flow, but I just looked at him strangely, and indicated that we would stay to the side. I could see the frustration on this little worker’s face as he realized that his little glowstick wasn’t going to get me to move. So, what did he do? He turned around, and started manuvering the few stragglers in his line around us, as if we were some traffic hazard. Within two minutes, the rest of our group arrived, and we walked away.
It was a very different story at some of the food counters, who hadn’t forgotten that customer service is what counts. They had a smile on their face, so why not the others? I can understand that doing the same job every day can be a little boring, but working at an amusement park is a job in the entertainment industry. It’s a show.
Every time you work anywhere, you’re putting your skills on display. Sure, you might not be the best in your field, but you can certainly be the most cordial, and the most polite. You can smile, joke and laugh with the guests, and provide help to those who ask. Were I in the same situation as my young frustrated friend, I would have found a place where the group could stand where we wouldn’t have caused a problem. If that didn’t work, I would have kindly told them why I was treating them as a road hazard, or would have found a better solution altogether.
But to simply wave a little stick at me and tell me to move is not a good idea. All it does is make the guests feel like cattle, and treating people like cows is never a less-than-demeaning solution.
- Kyle
The Small World is Too Small For Fat Folks
Here’s a fun little tidbit for you. Did you know that It’s a Small World, the infamous Disneyland™ attraction that has remained virtually unchanged since its opening in 1964, is to be closed for renovation? Now, this isn’t because it’s going to be revamped. It’s not going to be visually enhanced, and no, it’s not going to be replaced by a different version. The reason for the 10 month closure is pretty straightforward: The guests are too fat.
When the ride was originally conceived by Walt Disney and company, it was planned with the average 40+ American weight in mind. But what has happened since then is that Americans have become steadily, ahem, larger. The boats and the flume that passes them along simply can no longer handle such a load, (puns totally intended here), and so we’re looking at some monumental changes.
For 43 years, there’s been relatively few problems, but now America’s weight gain has finally caught up. The boats are starting to bottom out, causing them to get stuck halfway through the ride, freezing everything for up to three hours as the Disney Cast Members struggle to extract the helpless guests. (Apparently, the Pirates of the Carribean ride has similar problems on the initial flume drop, but so far it hasn’t been to “large” of a problem. I say, give it a few years.)
Can America just not exercise? Can we just not stop ourselves from at least working out to earn the right to eat fried chicken and doughnuts every night? Apparently not.
And so, the ride is closing for the better part of the year. And I think it’s being redesigned with an elephant’s average weight in mind.
- Kyle
