This is going to sound stupid and it probably is but as my family and I were watching the evening fireworks show (Fantasmic) in Disney Sea, I got really teary eyed. So teary eyed that I was dangerously close to full on crying. My eyes actually stung from keeping the tears in.
I brushed off the sudden burst of emotions as simply being awed by the incredible display – a creative and technological feat worth praising endlessly, like damn Disney, you guys spare no expense – but as the show went on I knew it was more than that. Seeing Mickey Mouse, er, rather, a person wearing a legit Mickey costume provoked memories and feelings in me rather explosively. It’s silly, I know, psychoanalyzing something as trite as a kids’ amusement park show but I was just so deeply moved that I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t laugh it off.
Yes, it was just a show about an anthropomorphic mouse – arguably the most famous one in all of history – and his gang of fictional characters of varying degrees of absurdity but, at the same time, it wasn’t. The show, a half hour display of a series of monumental feats right after another, wasn’t just a show. It was the days my sisters and I were left at home while my parents worked hard all day and we had no one else for company but ourselves and our borrowed VHS tapes of Disney movies. It was the comfort of a familiar movie whenever I’d feel particularly lonely despite being with my family. It was the foundations of my concept of good and evil, which would later be scrutinized excessively as the years passed, as it should. It was the childlike hope and belief that so long as you work hard, be good, stay positive, you too will have a happy ending somehow. It was my introduction to how powerful an imagination was and how important creativity is so you need to cultivate whatever powers of imagination and creativity you have and wield it like a weapon and a shield when facing demons. It was the everything of my childhood, perhaps simply the beginning and end of it.
That’s why I almost cried. Because, as hard as I may have denied it (and continue to deny it), Disney has a special place in my heart. It has always been a part of me, the part that still believes that the world is black and white and happy endings exist. Yeah, I act all stoic and jaded but when Cinderella came out and fireworks started shooting at the sky, I just broke apart.
I’ve always been a dreamer and I highly suspect that Disney played a key role in shaping me that way.