Sunday, September 10, 2006

One year, long ago, my parents took us down the coast to Los Angeles. We went to some places they wanted to go to, driving the 101 where it perches on the edge of the continent, eating Chinese in San Francisco, and visiting the small town where they got married in 1945.

We also went where the children wanted to go- Disneyland, where we waited in line for rides, ate some cotton candy, and were not terribly impressed by the amusement park, in spite of having seen it on tv.

And that, in a nutshell, is the 'magic of Disney'- crap and cotton candy that can't hold a candle to real life. Some people prefer it, and worship little mouse statues that don't even look like mice.

Me, not so much.

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