In Defense of the Happiest Cruise That Ever Sailed

I'm about to lay some heavy poetry on you. It's very deep. Take a deep breath and dive in when you feel like your mind and heart are open. Here we go...    

it's a world of laughter, a world of tears

it’s a world of hopes, and a world of fears

there’s so much that we share

that it’s time we're aware

it’s a small world after all

it’s a small world after all

it’s a small world after all

it’s a small world after all

it’s a small, small world

there is just one moon and one golden sun

and a smile means friendship to everyone

though the mountains divide

and the oceans are wide

it's a small, small world 

I hope you don't think I was joking. I'm completely serious. If, when you realized that it was the lyrics to "it's a small world", you skimmed through them and skipped to here, then I want you to stop, go back, and actually read the words with care as if you had never read them before. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Note to self and Tom: Baby's room will
be done in Mary Blair style.

What did you think? Didn't expect that, huh? The simplicity of those words makes it very easy to overlook how profound they actually are. 


I, for one, am pretty much tired of how much ridicule this ride gets. I know, I know. I get it. The song is repetitive and gets stuck in your head. It's unwaveringly cheerful. It's uncomplicated. It aims low by being simple enough for children to grasp easily and bright enough to keep their attention. It uses what some consider to be stereotypes to convey cultural differences quickly in a visual way. 

I've spent a good chunk of time hearing horror stories of being trapped on the ride and tortured by the music, seeing it parodied, sometimes in clever ways, such as in Shrek and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and sometimes in very mean-spirited ways, and reading a lot of pretentious academics who think that the ride is racist, insensitive and outrageous. And I'm over it. I want to make a case for this much maligned attraction and share why it is one of my absolute favorites.


First and foremost we need to discuss the look of the ride. It's style can be attributed to Mary Blair, who is my favorite Disney artist. I could devote an entire blog to my all-consuming love for her art. She worked on several Disney films- the major three being Peter Pan, Cinderella, and Alice in Wonderland- making art designed to give inspiration to the animators who would do the actual designs. She brought a sense of adventure with her touches of expressionism, whimsy with her use of color and joy with her artistry. Here are a few of my favorite Mary Blair inspirational art pieces.

Mary Blair's art is what my wildest imagination could look like on it's awesomest day. There is an exhibit in the Disney Gallery in Disneyland this summer devoted to Mary's work. Tom and I will be visiting in September before it closes. I'm already piddling in my shorts just thinking about the prospect of being surrounded by rooms full of her art. 


After she amicably left the Disney studio, Mary did a lot of children's book illustrating and ad work. When Walt was given the opportunity to create "it's a small world" for UNICEF at the World's Fair in New York in 1964, he thought of Mary and her artistic style. She had come to be known for her very distinct style of depicting children. 

Walt felt that Mary would be the perfect artist to give a visual style to the project and he was right. Along with Imagineers including Rolly Crump, Marc Davis and Alice Davis, she created one of the most memorable theme park attractions in the world. 


As an example of its impact, just think of that end scene, where everything is in white. It is pure magic. We've been so saturated with color over the course of our trip that the sudden shift in the color palette is stunning. By keeping everything in the same shades of white, etc., the scene reinforces the unity of all the children just through the use of color, which I mentioned Mary was fantastic with. Though they are each different, they literally wear their similarities on their sleeves as a visual representation of a deeper truth. And white is the perfect choice. It is the color of promise yet to be fulfilled. Mary took the final scene and made the children of the world a blank canvas waiting to be painted on. That is the work of a brilliant artist. 


She came back to do concept work and designs for the attraction and continued to lend her talents to Disney parks, including the amazing murals in the Contemporary in WDW with the famous five-legged goat.

Next time you're on the ride, a fun thing to do is to look for Mary Blair herself on the ride. In both Disneyland and Walt Disney World, a doll that looks like her was added to commemorate her singular contributions to "it's a small world". Try to spot her next time you ride. She looks like this:

Of course the attraction is simple. Of course it is bright and colorful. Of course it boils everything down to the essence. This ride is intended as a gift to the children of the world. As a child, all my mind thought about was how cool all of these other places must be and how much I wanted to learn more. To me, that is accomplishing the noble task that Walt set out to do. 


Let us not forget that we are not exploring the world's socio-political interactions for a doctoral thesis. We are introducing young ones to a representation of other young ones all over the world so that they can see themselves in them. What kid doesn't have a ball pointing out different countries and cultures while in that boat and feeling so proud when they can identify them? At the same time, children are not pandered to. There is enough going on, enough details and surprises, that even now I find new things to charm me. I still have codfish mouth every time.

If the visual design engages you with other cultures, the much-maligned song unifies everything. Originally each country was going to sing its national anthem. When they realized how cacophonous that would end up, Walt brought the Sherman Brothers, who were working on Mary Poppins, in to write a song that could be used throughout. It gives all of the children one single voice, even when they are speaking a different language. 


The song was originally written as a slower, wistful, even sad song. Look at those lyrics again. It's not as peppy as you assume from the cheerful arrangement. Along with the laughter, there are tears. Along with hope, there are fears. It's a plea for unity as much as it is a celebration of it. Through the simplest gesture, like a smile, we can reach across borders, real and imagined, and create a world like the one we are sailing through on the ride. A world of joyousness and togetherness. 

I'm no fool. I am, however, an optimist. Right now,  I live in a country where red states and blue states spar constantly through the representatives they have chosen. Where you can be considered a second class citizen because of who you love, the color of your skin, or the God that guides you. Where there doesn't seem to always be the hope and promise of a brighter tomorrow for the next generation. To me, "it's a small world" is kind of like the golden rule. Things really can be that simple. The golden rule teaches us to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Likewise, "it's a small world" teaches us that no matter how different someone may seem, they are human just like you, and they are deserving of kindness. That to me isn't trite. It's truth. A truth that we need to hear now more than ever. You can make the world that we live in a better place by keep wisdom like that in your back pocket. 

It is time for the backlash to the backlash to begin and for it to be cool to love this ride again. I have no qualms about shouting from the rooftop how much I adore it. When I went to Disneyland for the first time with Tom last year and we got to the area of "it's a small world", I actually wept. It was so beautiful and moving. Mary Blair's influence is all over the whole corner of the park, making it into a mini Mary Blair land. The ride's gorgeous facade and topiaries stood there, inviting me in for five of the loveliest minutes I've ever spent in my life. I sat in that boat, which has been sailing for 45 years, and watched the real children's faces light up as we travelled through a blissful world free of hate and cruelty. I held the hand of the man that I love, got swept up in the magic and gave the dream of a better world for my children permission to stay afloat.  

Here We Go!

In March of 2010, I was visiting Walt Disney World with my family. Dad has been over the idea of walking around till his feet are blistered for a while at that point, so he stayed home in Tallahassee. Probably on the back porch, playing his harmonica, with a glass of sweet tea in close proximity. So it was me, my mama, my sister and some friends of the family spending three days in what has become one of my favorite places on Earth.

I had spent the previous months working on what I called The Disney Project. I watched every animated classic starting with Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and getting all the way through The Great Mouse Detective. It exploded my universe. I had collected most of the Disney movies here and there over several years (I am a bit of a media hoarder), but had mostly watched the special features or put them on in the background. I was not prepared for what watching the actual films all the way through in chronological order as an adult would do to me. It gave me an appreciation for the artistry of the films. I was moved emotionally. I shared the experience with friends, who would drop by to join me for a film or two and share in the discussion. It became a significant part of my life.

As my Saturn had just returned, I was immersing myself in the films of my childhood. Now, over a year later, I am moved to start this blog to explore what exactly it is about Disney that has ingrained itself into the second third of my life with such a vengeance. My friends kept telling me that I should blog the Disney Project. So here I am. Doing that and expanding the scope a bit. I will share thoughts from the Disney Project, along with my opinions on Disney news, music, parks, attractions, and anything else Disney related that strikes my fancy. I have no affiliation with Disney officially. Just a lot of love and curiosity. And opinions. A lot of opinions.

Where was I? Oh! Now this all started with a story about a fateful trip to the Magic Kingdom in 2010. This lil' nugget will give you a sense of what you may be in for with this blog. Gird your loins, folks. It's a doozy. One of the things I wanted to do most on this trip was get off of the Monorail at the Contemporary and take a look at the Mary Blair murals. I had become enamored of this woman's incredible artwork- the colors, the innocence, the playfulness- and I wanted to take some time to soak in this major piece of her artwork. The day in the park was lovely and the plan had been to hop out on the way back to the parking lot and take a looksee.

As the day wound down, I was starting to feel a little bit wonky. Not sick, but not quite myself. I had done everything in the park except for Space Mountain, so, after a moment of contemplation bracing myself in a Main Street doorframe, my sister and I headed over to take in one last attraction. I can be a bit of a completist when it comes to taking it all in at the parks. Bad move. As soon as the ride was over, I knew something was up. We made our way our of the park.

When we got to the monorail platform, I was woozy. Some evil beast of groty was taking over my body and I wasn't quite sure what to do about it. I told everyone that I wasn't feeling well, to which my sister (who is really a lovebug once you get to know her) promptly replied, "Stop complaining." There was, blessedly, an empty bench halfway up the crowded ramp, so I sat down to wait for the next train. The train came and we started moving toward it. I was almost a step closer to the hotel room, where I could feel like doo doo in private. I was bracing myself on my mama's shoulders. She was blissfully unaware, assuming I was either being lazy or loving. Though I can often be both of those things, this time it was different.

This is where things get hazy for me, but from piecing together fragments of memory and hearsay, I can provide this much narrative for what happened. I told mama that I couldn't see anything, which she thought was odd, so she turned around only to have me black out and collapse on the platform as we were about to enter a car on the middle of the train. When I came to, my stomach was churning. I repeated "Bag, bag, bag" like I was in a production of Noises Off. My brave sister quickly consolidated all of our souvenir treasures into one bag, freeing up the other for me. I promptly filled it with my puke. After it seemed that I had emptied my stomach out completely, my sister took the bag and tried to get it to the trash can as quickly as possible. Crisis averted. Almost. The bag slipped. The bag dropped to the ground. Protein spill on the Monorail platform. Mortified 29-year-old male is the culprit.

By this time, I was at least somewhat lucid. Half of the platform had to be shut down as cleanup commenced. Two paramedics came to check me out. As a single (at the time) gay man, this was not the state that I wanted to come into contact with two handsome, cheerful men in the medical profession. I grinned, wiped away tears, told them I was embarrassed but otherwise fine and just wanted to go home. They took some vitals, had me sign a piece of paper probably saying I wasn't going to sue, and vanished as quickly as they had appeared, gurney in tow. I hopped on the next train. The mess was cleaned up as if it had never happened. Anyone who had seen the incident was now back in the parking lot, wearily laughing about what happened and looking ahead towards another day of magic.

Meanwhile, my family and I got our own monorail car all the way back to the parking lot. We drove back to the hotel. I was sick several more times spanning the ride home and the entire night. The next day was Epcot and I had planned to join in my first Drink Around the World experience. Needless to say, that didn't happen. I got out of bed very late, went to the park and slowly waddled about with my amazing, patient mama. We went on Spaceship Earth and Soarin'. We walked. Slowly. And met up with my tipsy sister and her friend in Mexico, where they were enjoying a drink at the tequila bar.

Though it may not have been the ideal Disney visit, do I even need to justify the fact that I was happier being sick at Disney than I am most days in NYC, sitting at my desk, living out a sad eight hour span of time in a parody of The Devil Wears Prada mixed with Groundhog Day and just a sprinkle of Zoolander? That's why Disney is the happiest place on Earth. I can be sick out both ends and still be happy just to be alive, though inconvenienced. I'm just sad I didn't get to drink around the world.

By the way, I didn't get to see the mural that night. I flirted with the idea, but just felt too puny. My sister, bless her soul, tried to snap some pictures, but they came out blurry. But as a happy footnote, I visited again a few months ago and after a full day of amazingness at the Magic Kingdom, I stopped at the Contemporary with my fiance, who had accepted my proposal earlier that day in the stretching room of the Haunted Mansion. We got out and explored the mural, awestruck. It really is an incredible and epic piece of art. Mary Blair snuck a bit of a joke into it, giving one of the goats five legs because she believed that art should not be perfect. And now that little five legged goat holds a special place in my heart, reminding me that imperfection is not only something to accept and embrace, but can sometimes be by design.

That's all for now. I would love for you to join in the conversation at any point in this journey I'm taking. Share thoughts, memories, opinions. I would love to find a community of people who have been moved by the mouse!