The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up
Part 5
Posted by Trevor on February 5, 2009
Tags: Disneyland, Fantasyland, Goofy, Harry, Make A Wish, Micky Mouse, Peter Pan, Pluto, Scotty
Being Pluto in the A unit was cool. I was one of the Fab Five. An instantly recognizable celebrity. It meant a steady, if monotonous, schedule each day on Main Street. The mice were both played by very short women. Long gone were the days of the old "Mr. Mickey" who'd been hired by Walt himself. This Mouse was played by Polly, a veteran and mother of three who was the sweetest Mouse the park had ever seen. Minnie was played by Cate, a twenty-something tomboy with close-cropped red hair who always wore flannel, even on the hot days. Fred was our Goofy. A real character in and out of costume. He was about as flaming as it was possible to be, without actually swishing in costume. A cross-dresser of long standing and well-deserved reputation. He affected an elongated drawl when he talked that made Truman Capote sound butch. He had been around the park since they had changed over from the old costumes. Back when they were allowed to talk. On occasion you could still hear him "H'yucking" for the guests. With Harry as our Donald, the five of us were one big family. Eight sets a day, everyday, rain or shine. In the same place. Doing the same things, over and over again.
Despite Pluto's celebrity status, he wasn't what I really wanted to be. When I was 5 my grandmother took me to see a production of Peter Pan at the Music Circus in Sacramento, starring Sandy Duncan. I thought Sandy was a boy's name, I mean I grew up watching Flipper. We were in the third row, and since the theater was in the round, when Peter Pan flew overhead some of the glitter they were using for pixie dust landed on me, and I swear I could feel myself levitating in my seat a fraction of an inch. If it had been a larger dose I would have flown right out of the theater. But it was only secondhand dust. Still, I saved what I could and put it in my pocket for later use. After the show we went backstage, because I had to have Peter's autograph. Imagine, the real life Peter Pan! I made my Grandma wait half an hour in front of that tent. Finally this woman comes out and she's older than my mother and I ask, "Where's Peter?"
She laughed and said, "Silly, I'm Peter." And struck the pose, arms akimbo.
Ever since that day I have been convinced that Peter Pan should be played by a boy.
Later that year, when I went down to Disneyland for the annual family pilgrimage, I noticed for the first time that their Peter Pan actually was a guy. I remember watching him climb the rigging of the old Starkist Tuna pirate ship restaurant in Fantasyland. He was fighting with Captain Hook and one of the pirates when he dropped his dagger, so I ran over and handed it back to him. He said, "Thanks a lot," and went on to defeat the pair of buccaneers.
It wasn't until later that it dawned on me. He was an actor. That was his job. To be a boy that would never grow up and to play all day at Disneyland. I had found my career goal.
It's two weeks later, and the guy I'm replacing still hasn't come back. Something about back injuries. I could feel why. The big yellow dog was not only one of the hottest fur costumes around, the head also pulled forward and put a lot of strain on my spine. Without a back brace like many of the other "big heads" used, it began to take its toll. But I wasn't complaining. I was even allowed to sit in on the card games with the lifers. They've sort of accepted me. We're playing cards in the break area between sets. With Jerry on the warpath, bucking for another promotion, and gambling being strictly verboten, we would play a little game called Bullshit, which by its very name broke one of the other cardinal sins of Mouseland: No swearing, in or out of costume, but especially where any guests might overhear. But as Harry liked to point out, we weren't betting, and if there were any guests back here where they shouldn't be, then "Fuck 'em." It's threes to me.
"One three."
I had just bought a birthday card for Scotty over at the Emporium, using my employee discount. It's fours to Kari, one of the two morning chipmunks; she was either Chip or Dale. I could never tell which was which without their heads. Her cousin works with the Make-A-Wish Foundation, so I asked her for their address so I could send Scotty his card through them. She said, "Oh, didn't you hear? They can't find a donor, they don't think he's going to...um, you know. One four."
Then Jake, a burnt-out surfer who was playing Br'er Bear that day said, "Oh man, what a waste. They'd give him anything he wished for? And he came here." He blinked and made a unique noise that was part snort, part laugh and all his own. "That's tragic." He blinked again. "One five."
"Well, he's probably going to a better place," Harry said. "One six. Hey, sevens to you"
"Hmm? Oh, uh, yeah...one seven. Yeah, anywhere's better than here, huh?"
"Bullshit!" Harry snarled.
"What? Oh...right, take 'em." I said, showing them the seven of diamonds in my hand and folding the rest of my cards onto the break table. "Look, I better go. I don't wanna be late."
I started to get back into costume when Harry came over to me. "Hey rookie. Look, I saw you the other day with that chemo kid . Last rule of thumb. Never get emotionally attached. It'll rip yer fuckin' heart out. That dog suit is like emotional armor, use it. Cuz they don't want to see you. They want Pluto. They want the magic! And I got news for you kid: There ain't any. And the sooner you learn that, the sooner you'll fuckin' grow up. Welcome to Mauschwitz!
As I stood there with Pluto's head in my hand I thought, But, I don't want to grow up. I want voice clearance. I want to be a Face Character. I want to be Peter Pan!
TO BE CONTINUED...
Previous Dropping | Next Dropping
Mouse Droppings
by the Month
June 2010
August 2009
July 2009
May 2009
April 2009
March 2009
February 2009
January 2009
December 2008
Mouse Droppings
by Category
Playing anything else
Playing Mr. Smee
Playing Pluto
Playing the Mad Hatter
Subscribe to the Mouse Droppings RSS feed