Mom, if you didn’t get around to reading my blog until today, be sure you go look at the entry from your birthday. This one you won’t care about as much.
I was hoping to start today’s post with the words “Terminus Est,” which would be indicative of the fact that I have finally done with all 630-something pages of my Walt Disney biography. (How funny/sad/strange is it, though, that I started my day thinking about how I wanted to end my blog tonight?) Alas, it cannot be so. I’m getting closer, though. Walt Disney has just opened Disneyland, and I think he’s getting ready to start drawing up plans for Epcot.
I’m still working my way through every Disney cartoon ever made, or at least, every Disney cartoon they have at Video Isle up on Queen Anne. Right now I’m watching 10 hours worth of Mickey Mouse color shorts on Walt Disney Treasures: Mickey Mouse in Living Color, Volume Two. It’s so interesting to think that these were made for the express purpose of showing them in theaters, because I can’t imagine watching them on anything other than my television. I watched so many of these growing up in the 80s, and they were made almost entirely in the 40s and 50s. Also interesting: every 3 or so shorts Leonard Maltin will interrupt to remind us that when these cartoons were made, it would not have been seen as inappropriate for Mickey to be dressed in disguise in traditional Native American garb, or for one of the characters to speak in an exaggerated Italian accent and be named ‘Macaroni’. “Remember,” he says with a smile, “guns are never funny, but in this case the cat is threatening to shoot himself as part of Pluto’s nightmare.” This all feels a little over the top, even more so because some of the things he’s cautioning us to be aware of are the LEAST of the problems that today’s viewers might have with the shorts. Like maybe it’s not a great idea to give a dog a birthday cake covered in lit candles.
I think next I’m going to try to hunt down a collection of Goofy shorts. I’ve concluded he’s my favorite. I remember at one point in my childhood, during one of our trips to Disney World, my family concluded that if I were a Disney character, I’d be Goofy. I’ll let you draw your own conclusions as to why. Jennifer was Tigger, and Deborah had no character, because she was cute and young and at that point had not developed enough opinions to be stereotyped.
I promise this obsession will be over soon.
Also of note: for the last two days I’ve been listening to cars skid up and down the surprisingly icy hill by my apartment. It’s an eerie sound, and I keep expecting one of the skids to end in a crash.
I decided that this was the morning to give up caffiene. The heart palpitations have been somewhat out of control the last few days, and from my extensive research (read: I looked up some stuff on Wikipedia), it looks like caffiene can be one of the main causes of what my doctor assumes are premature ventricular beats. I don’t drink much caffiene to begin with; aside from my morning pot of coffee, I always drink decaf, and I usually buy caffiene free soda for my home. However, if changing my morning beverage to decaf will keep my heart from jumping out of my chest, then I’ll do it. I was expecting a major headache, but instead I’ve just been lightheaded all day. Again, my research (Wikipedia) tells me that caffiene causes blood vessels to constrict, which gives people the slightly wired feeling, so I’m assuming that by eleminating caffiene I’m allowing the blood to flow freely to my brain for the first time in who knows how long, which would explain the wooziness. Maybe if I keep this up I’ll get smarter.
Final story. This evening Joel and I went to see “Juno” and afterwards went to Daniel’s Broiler for dessert. We seated ourselves in the lounge area, right next to the piano, where a cluster of 40- to 60-year-olds were rockin’ out their Thursday night. After about half an hour or so one of the older gentlemen stumbled by our table. I was in the middle of what I’m certain was a fascinating story, and it took me a few seconds to realize he was listening in, staring right at the two of us. We gave him a smile, which he took as an invitation, lays a hand on each of our shoulders, and says something like,
“This is what I like to see. Two young kids, out having a good time, not causing trouble…Are you two in love?”
No, we respond, we’re just getting to know each other.
“Well, that’s good,” he says. “That’s what I like to see. How old are you?” he responds.
“And how old are you?” I respond.
“That’s good. You know, I’m a surgeon, and I haven’t been out in 20 years, and I’m having a good night.”
Yes, you seem to be, we say, and he gives our shoulders one more squeeze, shakes Joel’s hand, and walks away to enjoy his first night off in 20 years.
Between this and Bad Night Waitress from our first date, we have quite a track record.