Disney, the Fakest Place on Earth

I often tell people, if you’re looking for a screaming, crying, whining kid, look no further than Disney, the “happiest” place on Earth. I have mixed feelings of Disney. It is undoubtedly a monstrous conglomerate with a facade of happiness that cranks out superficially artist movies and annoyingly poppy music. But really, is that always a bad thing? When searching for a nice, sterile environment that at least feels better than the rest of the world, there’s almost no better place.

Take vacationing, for instance. There are many who travel to tropical resorts to places like Mexico or the Bahamas to enjoy a little slice of paradise. But in reality, when most folks visit these places, they never see the extreme poverty or drug gangs or homelessness or crime of Mexico or the Bahamas. Instead, they stick to the candy-coated resorts that shield them away from the realities of their “paradise”. How is this different than Disney, a place that screen their employees based on physical appearance and place more emphasize on cleanliness than the quality of their food?

And then there’s Disney’s music, something that often hits me like a wasp to the ear. Yet I find myself playing this music for my kids… on purpose. Why? For the same reason that when my kids are in the car, I flip the radio to either local Christian pop station or find something from the 50’s or 60’s. These options are often already filtered and sanitized for my kid’s ears.

And then there’re the gems in Disney productions. There are a lot of Disney movies and other creations that are… well, garbage. Things that are so bad I feel insulted having wasted my time on it. The ending of Lilo and Stitch for one. But through the muck, there are certainly productions that are wonderful. The Fox and the Hound remains one of my favorite movies of all time. And I occasionally catch myself singing “Chim Chimney” on a particularly good day. And in spite of the distaste toward crowds, I’ll openly admit that I have annual passes to the parks that I take my family to enough times that both of my kids could easily be park tour guides.

So, love it or hate it, Disney is Disney, forever earning and spending billions on fake happiness for millions of families and other nuts who need a little sanitized get away. And I would openly admit that I too am one of these nuts.

Caine’s Arcade

In case you haven’t seen this short on Caine’s Arcade, check it out:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=faIFNkdq96U.

Stories like this are incredible. Because of the thousands of people who cheered on Caine through Facebook. And the few dozen people who showed up and played the games at his arcade. And the dad who gave Caine the space, freedom, and resources to build his enterprise. And especially Nirvan Mullick who had the vision to see how wonderful this work of a nine-year-old was and put in the work to share it with everyone.

The world needs stories like this. It’s not going to solve everybody’s problems. Caine isn’t going to suddenly be the savior of mankind with his cardboard creations. His games aren’t going to fix everything that’s broken in the world. But it is important, extremely important. Stories like this remind us that despite our conflicts and heartaches and horrors and wars and bankruptcies and crime and yadda, yadda, yadda, we are all people who need each other. Caine needed people to come to his arcade to validate his hard work. The people needed to come so they could experience an arcade from a kid’s perspective, and in doing so become kids themselves. And for folks like me who live across the country from Caine, I need stories like this to bring a little glimmer of hope that there just may be some humanity left in people and we’re not all just a bunch of robots cranking through our days.

So if you get anything out of this story of Caine’s Arcade, get this: opening your heart and your time to other people pays off, at times far more than you’d ever imagine.

Forgiveness

It’s hard to forgive people who’ve wronged us, especially if the wrong has lasting effects in your life. Normal reactions toward a personal attack are either fight or flight. I typically lean toward the latter of these two, but I always root for those who choose to fight; revenge always makes a good story. But then there’s forgiving, a seemingly unnatural reaction that is probably always the long term solution. It’s easy to picture yourself fighting back or cowering away, but how does forgiving work?

When I was a kid, maybe nine years old, I befriended a stray puppy in my neighborhood. I fed him some leftovers, played with him for a little while, and had to trick him to stay out in the abandoned little league field where I had found him since I knew my parents would never let him bring him home. The next day I came by with more scraps but couldn’t find him. After searching, I found the puppy dead near a storm drain. He had bike tread marks on him and his head was smashed apart. I could hear the echoing laughter of some neighborhood kids that I knew to be rough and notoriously destructive and I knew immediately they had done it. Months before I had witnessed them tossing about four or five hamsters underneath the tires of passing cars watched them laugh hysterically with every pop. For months and even years afterward, I hated these kids for killing this stray puppy that I barely knew. I’d glare at them whenever we crossed paths and in my heart I wanted to toss them under a few cars.

Now here I am, decades later, how do I feel about this group of kids? Or better yet, how should I feel? It’s one thing knowing what to do, but living it out is a different story.

This may seem like a weak comparison, but the families of murdered victims ask themselves the same questions. How should they feel if their loved ones are killed? I’m certain that time, the healer of all, gives these people an answer: forgiveness. The problem is how is forgiveness fair to the people alive who still suffer? But the people who live this out know exactly how it’s fair. The fairness comes from the freedom of letting go the resentment, finally giving yourself time to breathe.

I realize that this is only a blog, a brief verbal burp of thought, and I’m peaking into Pandora’s Box and expecting to reveal all the answers. But for those of you who have such experiences in your life, even if it’s as little as a puppy dog, this may hit close to home. Hopefully, like all of these blog entries, it’ll give you something to ponder as you lie in bed tonight.

Mom’s 10 Commandments

A little while back, I made this list of Mom’s 10 Commandments. It essentially answered the question: what were the rules and nagging phrases that my mom recited over the years when she was forced to endure me as a child? Here’s what I came up with:

1.         Thou shall listen. Listening is how we show that we love.

2.         Thou shall sweat. Work without sweat is lazy.

3.         Thou shall hug. Everyone needs to be held.

4.         Thou shall laugh, otherwise you’ll cry.

5.         Thou shall get out. You’re letting all the hot air in.

6.         Thou shall give. Never miss an opportunity to help.

7.         Thou shall learn. Your head’s not full yet.

8.         Thou shall dream. Dream all you want. Dreaming’s free.

9.         Thou shall remember. Cherish the love you’ve had.

10.       Thou shall eat. Skinny’s not healthy.

This is an interesting exercise since it forces you to not only remember your own childhood but see parenting from Mom’s point of view. What would be your Mom’s 10 Commandments? Give it some thought. Chances are you can rattle off at least the top three.