Wednesday, May 25, 2011

M-i-c-k-e-y-m-o-u-s-e......

WEDNESDAY, MAY 25, 2011

M I C…K E Y…M O U S E…

On one of my first visits to mainland USA and sunny California, about twelve years ago now, my new husband took his cousin, Aunt and I to Disneyland. I couldn't believe it, at the ripe old age of thirty-six, I was finally fulfilling a life-long dream of going to D*I*S*N*E*Y*L*A*N*D.
Even strolling along Hollywood Boulevard, visiting Grumman’s Chinese Theater and seeing all the handprints cast in concrete on the pavement from all the many famous stars of yesteryear and today, couldn't compete with Disneyland.
Nowhere he took me on that trip could.
Growing up as a kid in New Zealand, I'd ride the bus home from school, run down the hill to our house and inside, make a 'door-stop' sandwich (two over-thick slices of bread I’d cut from the loaf, smothered with vegemite or golden syrup), then settle in, in front of our black and white telly to watch the Mickey Mouse Club Show.
Like the true mouseketeer I imagined myself to be, I’d sing along and prance around the living room with my fluffy rabbit ears on—that I'd folded over to look like mousie ears—and pretend I was one of the gang. One day I’d go there, and it would be everything I had ever dreamed it would be.
To the child I was then, growing up with just my Dad and siblings, and very little in the way of material things that weren’t necessities, Disneyland was simply magic. It was the place where a real Sleeping Beauty’s castle stood, there were fireworks every night, rides that defied imagination, and especially, a place where all my favorite characters roamed the streets and were happy to see you.
Disneyland inflamed my imagination and the Disney classic movies like Cinderella, The Little Mermaid, Peter Pan, Lady and The Tramp, Fox and Hound, Fantasia and Snow White and the Seven Dwarves and more, were my tentative ideals of romantic love.  
It was an enchanted place of fairies and fairy Godmothers, flying lost boys and crocodiles that ticked, beautiful witches and ghastly stepmothers. Dastardly pirates and a wizard mouse, capable of creating a cacophony of Fantasia. Where talking dogs ran free and unchecked, and mermaids could walk on land. Or where you could ride on a magic carpet up and away, and discover a cave of treasures and it was the place where beautiful Disney Princesses, all got their handsome Princes in the end, and lived happily ever after.
I was convinced it was all real, because Disneyland, was a real place, where dreams really did come true.
Seems so silly now, but I was young and impressionable with an imagination that knew no bounds.
When it finally came to pass that I'd walk along Main Street Disney, that ragamuffin 'little girl' I once was, beamed bright from within me like a spotlight and made sure I left my age at the gate on arrival. Cousin Carole had worked at Disney in her teen years, which was a Godsend, as she knew the best places to eat, and sit, the what/when/where of all the rides and where to get the best souvenirs and everything else Disney. I was in heaven and determined to keep them all there at the parks, from the time it opened, until the final fireworks burst above in all their splendor against the night sky.
Even though I was no longer the little girl with big dreams I’d once been, Disneyland through my thirty-six-year-old eyes was sublime, breathtaking and exceeded every expectation I’d ever held. I rode as many rides as I could that day and evening, sat cross-legged on the pavement with everyone else to watch the parades, and drank in every little thing, sight and sound and catalogued each memory away to relive another day.
I had a sore jaw for a week afterward from grinning ear to ear, the 'funniest' thing happened on the way back to Main St to see one of the parades...
The cast actors in their Disney costumes had passed by us all day long. I'd smile and point like everyone else and watch with pleasure as the kids raced to flock around them in earnest for the chance of a hug, a photo and autographs. I remember marveling how some of them, in full animal costumes, didn't keel over and pass out in the heat! I'd bought two autograph books with me to America ("I'm bound to meet someone famous! Right?" I'd told my sons) and I hoped to fill them on my travels, and thus, kept them with me at all times 'just in case'. I hadn't had the opportunity to get one signature in either book at that stage, when I spotted the small dressed character of Mickey Mouse, trailing a gaggle of children, like the proverbial Pied Piper behind him. I'd been talking animatedly with my family, but stopped mid-sentence when I saw Mickey, 'stepped out of myself' and watched fascinated, as the girl I'd once been darted over to join the children, with my autograph books firmly in hand. It was only when she was nearly there and glanced back with eyes bright and a huge smile that she 'saw' me and the dumbstruck looks on my new cousins' and Aunts faces, that my smile disappeared. I stood forlornly looking at the ground and immediately felt myself slam back into my body as a wave of shame and nausea flowed over me. It felt like everyone was staring at the 'old' lady acting like a kid. My eyes burned and I wanted to flee but stood there rooted to the spot instead, not knowing what to do. Horrified and feeling helpless, I looked up and saw again the faces of my cousin and Aunt, then finally braved a look at my new husband. I could just imagine his face, he'd probably be scowling, maybe I'd even embarrassed him in front of his family and he'd want to leave the park.
The thoughts chased each other through my mind in an instant, convincing me of what I'd see, so it took a moment or two to realize he wore that soft, sweet smile instead. The one that lights up his eyes with laughter or passion and never fails to 'rock my world'. God, I LOVE his eyes! He calmly came over and took my hand and brushed his lips over my fingers, tilted my chin up and kissed me right where I stood, in front of everyone including his Aunt and cousin. I blushed to my toes, just like a silly schoolgirl. Then he calmly slipped my hand in his and patiently waited in line with me.
I got Mickey's autograph in both books and later in bed, just before going to sleep, I thought to tell him what had happened. To try to explain in words, what must have seemed such odd behavior. When I got to the bit about 'stepping outside myself,' he simply said, "I know sweetheart, I saw her. Such a beautiful bright flame of a girl with wild hair in tangles down her back and laughing big brown eyes! Do you think we could make one just like her?"
Funny how the words he spoke came back as clearly as if he'd said them yesterday...
We didn't get the daughter I would have liked to have given him but were blessed with a most precious and bonny son, who brings us so much joy.