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Living Next to Disney

Disney-World“People who live next to Disney hardly ever go there.”

I lived the first twenty-one years of my life in Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love, the birthplace of the U.S. Constitution, and the home of the famed Liberty Bell. And after I ventured out into the world and met more people from other places, I finally realized just how interesting the place of my birth was. The history packed into the place could fill several books, and yet it was something I took for granted being able to walk into Independence Hall anytime I wanted, or passing by Betsy Ross’s house on my way to South Street on Thursday evenings in July. Moving away, though, gave me a perspective I never would have had otherwise.

When I won a trip for a week at Disney World, to stay on the park property, I was ecstatic. I was going to the most magical place on earth, to spend a week with several other groups of kids from all over the U.S., and it was going to be amazing. Among the group of kids who all congregated there for the week were teenagers from California, from Texas, and from Atlanta. There was also a group from Orlando, and I was so excited to meet them. I mean, they lived right down the block from a place I would kill to live near, and I wanted to know how amazing that was for them. But when I asked the question, one of the girls laughed at me and said, “People who live next to Disney hardly ever go there.” She explained that it didn’t mean the park wasn’t amazing. What it meant was that you can get used to anything. You can take anything for granted. Continue reading “Living Next to Disney”

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Deluge

The bridge is out Submerged in water Ropes visible above Attached to heavy posts Drunk with the weight Of the river wide On its tiptoes Tilting the world Hazy and forbidden Even in summer When the rains come That slow buildup The quick switch Dropping the hammer Swift and solid A wall of water Sanguinely … Continue reading Deluge

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Keeping It Brand: Part 11

une-tenue-ultra-glamour
Carrie Underwood? Yes, please.

I could’ve sworn I saw Carrie Underwood in Target today. You know how it is when you think you recognize someone but you don’t want to be stupid enough to call their name, only to realize it isn’t them when they don’t even turn around. Or worse yet, when they turn around and you realize it isn’t who you thought it was. Now, I’ve never met Miss Underwood before, so it was definitely possible I had made a mistake, but I wasn’t willing to give up on the dream just then. So I followed her. And I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t like that at all. I just didn’t want to embarrass either of us when I inevitably yelled, “Carrie!” as if we were old friends. But it wasn’t her, I found out when I caught up with her cart. I was glad I didn’t yell out or ask for her autograph. Close call. I did say hi, though, because I say hi to everyone who walks into my domain, and she smiled at me, so it wasn’t all bad.

If you didn’t know, I work at Target, where we all wear red & khaki and hopefully smiles as well. I have stories I could tell you every single day, tales from work that you wouldn’t believe actually happened. Today was no different. The following are true quotes from guests who I talked to while they were shopping in the store:

“Is there a bathroom in every department?”

“Do you guys carry shrimp rolls, you know, like at a restaurant?”

“What happened to all the pools?”

“Do you still have real books here?” Continue reading “Keeping It Brand: Part 11”

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I Did What?: My Sordid Job History, Volume 7

The cattle were lowing, and making more manure.

It was only my first day of high school and I was sticky with sweat, my brand new sneakers were ruined, and I smelled like manure. Not to mention that I had cried my eyes out no less than two times, my parents had left me to fend for myself, and my prospect of getting friends was dim, considering I smelled like manure. Home seemed too far away to dream about, and my sister was pretending not to know me. Yes, my high school career started off with a bit of a bang, you know, like most people’s. And I remember it like it was yesterday, even though it was 23 years ago.

See, I went to a boarding school in mid-western Pennsylvania where they practiced what they preached. It was all about helping god help you, or something like that. Which meant that even thought the tuition to attend the school was larger than a golden goose egg, the school made sure all of its students worked to help lower that tuition. They were called on-campus and off-campus jobs, and they were not all created equal. Needless to say I got the worst possible job, in my opinion, working on the campus farm.

When we arrived at school on the Sunday before the first day of school, my parents had no idea what job I was going to picked to do, but I had high hopes. I wanted to work in the administration building, maybe answering phones or cleaning floors or something. I thought that job would be possibly even fun, but when we got up to the work assignment table in the gym I was hit with the truth. In the state of Pennsylvania, as a 13-year old there was only one on- or off-campus job that I could legally perform. You guessed it: the farm. As soon as they told us, I was so shell-shocked that I just stared down at my brand new white sneakers purchased specifically for a new school and a new attitude for me. I knew they were toast. Continue reading “I Did What?: My Sordid Job History, Volume 7”