Disney-fied

As some of you may know, I recently went to Disneyworld. Which got me thinking for some reason.

I have friends who are anti-Disney. They can't stand any Disney movie (Pixar doesn't count), because of its medieval/unrealistic/babyish ideas. NOT every girl will be a princess (in fact, if you live in America, you never will). NOT every singer becomes a world-famous rock star with two identities. There is NO SUCH THING as a magic carpet, a star you can wish on, or a benevolent fat lady with wand that will give you anything you ask for out of thin air. NO frogs will turn into princes upon being kissed, and then promptly marry you.

I remembered these people (you shall forever remain nameless, don't worry) as I was walking through Disney (specifically, as I was waiting in a line. One of many lines.). And all I could think of was how much they would hate this place. It was so...happy. So...magical. And so very unrealistic.

Of course, that practically ruined my mood, so I tried not to think such thoughts for the rest of the day.

On the opposite tack, the next evening, my brother and I were sitting on the bleachers, watching "Fantasmic," one of the big Broadway spectacular/fireworks extravaganzas. I remember sitting right next to me was a little girl, maybe three years old. The minute a Disney princess came out on the stage, she would stand up on the bleacher and point, with a smile the size of a watermelon slice on her face. When the big dragon appeared to devour Mickey, she began sobbing like the world was about to end. In fact, when even the entrance music for one of the bad guys began playing (the bad guy didn't even have to show up), she would bawl.

Of course, my first thought is "Aw, isn't that sweet." And the next thought, "Wow, that's really innocent...and naive." That, of course, put me into an argument with myself as to how to react to such things - with cynicism or with "childlike wonder."

I ended up choosing the latter option - which made my experience all the more pleasant. With just a tiny effort, my entire week was made "magical." I would gasp every time a firework went off, as if it had been pixie dust and not gunpowder. I would sing randomly throughout the day, as if there had always been a soundtrack to my life. I played along when Peter Pan asked me if there was a fairy in my battery-powered light-up pen. I was an evil bounty hunter for ten minutes when I got stuck in a line with two 4-foot-tall Jedi. I had the time of my life.

I realized - it's a lot like reading fiction. Or watching movies. No one points out the fact that the Boondock Saints could never have existed, that DeLoreans can't be modified into time machines, that there is no Middle Earth besides the white-hot core of our planet. Because for those 2 hours, we're not absorbed in how unrealistic the movie is. We want to know the story. And we'd quickly duct-tape closed the mouth of anyone who tries to ruin it for us by constantly reminding us of how unrealistic it is.

So if I ever go to Disneyworld with any of you reading this blog...beware. I have duct tape. And I'm not afraid to use it.