Twenty-five years ago, I worked at a theme park in central Florida, the one with the mouse. It was not a good fit; I lasted about 90 days, then fled back north. I learned some things, however, and the lessons stayed with me.
The first thing I learned is that appearance is reality. The theme park defined what a pleasing appearance was and enforced it strictly. In the “backstage” areas, managers (“leads” in theme park jargon) would post “hot lists” of “cast members” whose appearance was beginning at odds with the official appearance. (BTW, I was not an actor, I was a waiter. The whole “backstage” and “cast member” routine was part of the corporate groupspeak at the theme park.)
I made the hot list several times because my sideburns crept below my ears’ halfway point. If I worked a double shift, my lead would make me shave in the middle of the day, so our “guests” wouldn’t have to see a five o’clock (or even a three o’clock) shadow. Women made the list for allegedly immoderate displays of jewelry or makeup. Facial hair or visible tattoos were not allowed, period. When we were onstage – and most of us onstage were white – we were all smiles and manners, regardless of how we argued and cursed each other backstage.
Wholesome and clean was the look; no expense was spared to maintain it. If an ice cream cone is dropped on the park’s “Main Street,” a discreetly dressed cast member quietly radios for assistance and another discreetly dressed maintenance cast member emerges from one of many concealed doors and cleans the mess within seconds. Flower beds with a precise arrangement of 4,000 green and yellow flowers today will have a precise arrangement of 4,000 blue and white flowers tomorrow.
The second thing I learned is that people will pay for the clean, smiley, no-facial-hair-or-visible-tattoos experience. It costs $71 for people ten and over to walk through the front gate at that theme park. No outside food allowed and the inside food is expensive, so try not to drop that ice cream cone in the first place.
I’ve been thinking about theme parks as I’ve watched Rudy Giuliani hang all his hopes for the presidency on Florida. He brags about the way he cleaned up New York City during his tenure as mayor.
I knew New York before and after Rudy and he did clean it up. He made war on the squeegee men and scoured drug dealers and prostitutes from Times Square. New York was a success under Rudy, but a success with a cost. Times Square was “Disneyified.” Disney has a thriving store in Times Square.
Money poured into a cleaner, safer New York. Real estate went through the roof and soon all the working-class people were pushed out of Manhattan. Now, like that central Florida theme park, Manhattan is cleaner and more predictable, but it’s also duller and is something of a theme park for the rich or tourists.
If you’ve ever traveled in a way that transcends tourism – by which I mean you get away from the resorts and the places where everyone speaks English – you may come to see the United States as a theme park. If you’ve spent time in Africa, Asia, South or Central America, you start to realize the people there live in the real world and we live in a scrubbed, orderly simulacrum.
What’s wrong with that? Wouldn’t we all like to live on the Main Street portrayed in central Florida? Maybe, but remember the tremendous resources it takes to create that illusion. Our national theme park is sucking dry the planet’s natural resources and our financial resources. The newspapers are full of it.
Time to head for the exit. Back to the real world.
The Theme Park
Twenty-five years ago, I worked at a theme park in central Florida, the one with the mouse. It was not a good fit; I lasted about 90 days, then fled back north. I learned some things, however, and the lessons stayed with me.
The first thing I learned is that appearance is reality. The theme park defined what a pleasing appearance was and enforced it strictly. In the “backstage” areas, managers (“leads” in theme park jargon) would post “hot lists” of “cast members” whose appearance was beginning at odds with the official appearance. (BTW, I was not an actor, I was a waiter. The whole “backstage” and “cast member” routine was part of the corporate groupspeak at the theme park.)
I made the hot list several times because my sideburns crept below my ears’ halfway point. If I worked a double shift, my lead would make me shave in the middle of the day, so our “guests” wouldn’t have to see a five o’clock (or even a three o’clock) shadow. Women made the list for allegedly immoderate displays of jewelry or makeup. Facial hair or visible tattoos were not allowed, period. When we were onstage – and most of us onstage were white – we were all smiles and manners, regardless of how we argued and cursed each other backstage.
Wholesome and clean was the look; no expense was spared to maintain it. If an ice cream cone is dropped on the park’s “Main Street,” a discreetly dressed cast member quietly radios for assistance and another discreetly dressed maintenance cast member emerges from one of many concealed doors and cleans the mess within seconds. Flower beds with a precise arrangement of 4,000 green and yellow flowers today will have a precise arrangement of 4,000 blue and white flowers tomorrow.
The second thing I learned is that people will pay for the clean, smiley, no-facial-hair-or-visible-tattoos experience. It costs $71 for people ten and over to walk through the front gate at that theme park. No outside food allowed and the inside food is expensive, so try not to drop that ice cream cone in the first place.
I’ve been thinking about theme parks as I’ve watched Rudy Giuliani hang all his hopes for the presidency on Florida. He brags about the way he cleaned up New York City during his tenure as mayor.
I knew New York before and after Rudy and he did clean it up. He made war on the squeegee men and scoured drug dealers and prostitutes from Times Square. New York was a success under Rudy, but a success with a cost. Times Square was “Disneyified.” Disney has a thriving store in Times Square.
Money poured into a cleaner, safer New York. Real estate went through the roof and soon all the working-class people were pushed out of Manhattan. Now, like that central Florida theme park, Manhattan is cleaner and more predictable, but it’s also duller and is something of a theme park for the rich or tourists.
If you’ve ever traveled in a way that transcends tourism – by which I mean you get away from the resorts and the places where everyone speaks English – you may come to see the United States as a theme park. If you’ve spent time in Africa, Asia, South or Central America, you start to realize the people there live in the real world and we live in a scrubbed, orderly simulacrum.
What’s wrong with that? Wouldn’t we all like to live on the Main Street portrayed in central Florida? Maybe, but remember the tremendous resources it takes to create that illusion. Our national theme park is sucking dry the planet’s natural resources and our financial resources. The newspapers are full of it.
Time to head for the exit. Back to the real world.
© Mark Floegel, 2008