A Disney Collector's Lament

Still life with Disney books, Orange Birds,
Mary Blair, Oswald, Big Al, singamajigs,
headscratcher and Whatnot Muppets.

Tom and I have been watching a lot of Hoarders lately. We can’t help it. A marathon aired before the new season got started and we spent one of our precious days off together on the couch, consuming episode after episode ravenously. I think there is a unique combination of factors that has lead to our (and America’s) love of this show. We feel grateful that we are not like the people being documented, and yet we see tiny bits of ourselves reflected in them. We feel a sense of schadenfreude and at the same time are uplifted when progress is made. We cheer them on and judge them simultaneously. This show and others like it (Intervention, Heavy) fascinate me to absolutely no end.

This last marathon, however, has mostly served as a motivator to get me to take a look at my own clutter.  As Tom and I are preparing for our big move out of the NYC, I am taking a more critical look at my own (in)famous hoarding tendencies and trying to purge our apartment of detritus here and there so that we aren’t overwhelmed in a few months. The last thing we need is to be forced to move a pile of unnecessary junk across the country.

Duane Reade shopping bags have been filled with books that I am slowly admitting to myself that I will never get around to reading and so will soon stick the shelves of the Strand. (So long, Anna Karenina.) Trash bags full of clothes have been lugged to the local charity store. (Bye-bye vintage shirts from my high school Goodwill scavenging days.) Progress is being made, slowly but surely. It has been surprisingly easy to let go of stuff, which is nothing short of a miracle and a testament to my excitement surrounding the imminent move.

I have a predilection for park vinyl.

I see a lot of negotiation in the next couple of months as I try to whittle almost ten years of acquirements down to a manageable haul. Mostly, it will be the media that will be a bit of a challenge. I have hundreds of CDs, DVDs and books that I need to devise a plan for. In this digital age, the CDs should be a snap, right? Just rip them onto my computer, store them in the cloud and rid myself of the bulky discs. Unfortunately, I am an old fogey who, after losing my hard drive many times over the years, is leery of abandoning the piece of plastic where the information is tangibly stored. I am also a dork who enjoys having such things as artwork and liner notes.

The DVDs and books, however, can’t all be stored on a machine. I am a bit crushed under the weight of the fact that I will quite possibly not get around to reading every word and watching every frame, but I am a man who needs options. One day I might turn around and realize that I want nothing more than to watch that American Gladiators DVD or read that important gay novel from the seventies. I don’t know if I can deal with the regret knowing that I had them and got rid of them, especially when I got most of them used and dirt cheap while braving the labyrinthine jungles of used book and/or DVD and/or CD stores. Bargain shopping for this stuff is the closest I’ll ever get to participation in a sport and I could be a major league player.

Florence and Adele watch over
my Disney CDs.

Possibly above all else, I like the aesthetic value of spines lined up on a shelf. When you are invited to someone’s place for the first time, what is one of the first things you inevitably do? You take a glance at someone’s collections to glean information. It allows you to bond over your shared love of obscure cast albums, connect over your hilariously curated coffee table books, and strike up a conversation about your extensive selection of amazing TV shows on disc. And it gives me great joy to be able to say, “Yes! Of course you can borrow my copy of Hey Dude! I’m so glad that you love it too! Did you know season two is finally coming out soon?” It’s a way to instantly suss out what you have in common with someone else.

The problem in New York City has, of course, become a matter of space. I don’t have space for enough shelves to make everything I have easily accessible. My CDs used to have some semblance of alphabetization going on, but once their dedicated spaced was filled, they started to stack on the floor in an out-of-the-way corner. DVD genres are somewhat separated, with children’s movies and anything made before 1980 in an Ikea cabinet near the bathroom door and Christmas movies and music in the couch (which has storage space under the seats). The catch 22 is that though we will have more space wherever we move, getting all of this stuff there will be a trial. So downsizing is inevitable, with one very notable exception. Can you guess what is non-negotiable? That’s right. My Disney stuff.

Top two shelves are Disney.
Yeah. They're three deep.

As I have mentioned before, I am a little bit late to the Disney enthusiast game. Most of my accumulated Disneyana has been hunted and gathered over the course of the last two to three years. I have shelves dedicated to my Disney books, a few to my Disney DVDs and Blu-rays (with the fifty animated classics separated and in chronological order waiting patiently for my DATE Nights with them), and a space reserved for my Disney CDs. My small collection of Disney vinyl decorates a wall while other souvenirs, such as lanyards stocked with pins, selected plush and very, very selected Vinylmation dot the apartment here and there. I have been a very busy beaver.

It’s been both an exercise in frustration and exhilarating beyond belief to build my Disney collection. There are elusive items that have become hard to find at anywhere near a reasonable price, like the Dr. Syn Walt Disney Treasures DVD or Disneyland: The Nickel Tour. As much as I want to get my mitts on them, I cannot justify plunking down hundreds of dollars for the bragging rights of calling them mine. It’s all balanced, however, by the amazing feeling I get when I finally find a coveted piece, make that winning bid or click buy, see it beckoning to me from my doorstep after delivery. It’s an undeniable high when I rip through the packaging, revealing the Polly soundtrack or The Colors of Mary Blair Japanese exhibition book.

Animated classics on top, Walt Disney Treasures on
the bottom, Bullwhip Griffin on the telly.
Blu-rays out of frame.

Even the less momentous buys are always fun. Few things give me as much pleasure as flipping through a Disney Park souvenir book that I found for a dollar plus shipping on Amazon, laughing at the out-of-date clothing on display, dreaming about my next trip, and discovering the changes, both subtle and substantial, that are a part of the DNA of the ever-changing parks. If it hadn’t been for the fact that I won it for a buck on eBay, I would have never been privy to the soothing twang of Rex Allen’s Yellowstone Cubs narration. And I certainly would have never invested in music from Selena Gomez or Miley Cyrus has it not been relegated to dollar bin at my favorite NYC used media joint (Book Off in midtown).

Our lanyards and pins.

As we take stock of what is making the journey from the Northeast with us, it is not even up for discussion whether my Disney stuff is coming along. Tom has contributed a few items to it himself, like our Art of Mulan book and what may be my favorite piece- a stretching portrait from the Haunted Mansion, an attraction that holds a very special place in our hearts. When he moved east from California, he left everything he couldn’t fit into a couple of suitcases behind. After giving away the majority of his possessions, I think he’s kind of excited to get some of them back through me. Not only does he know it wouldn’t be wise to try to get me to let go of the Disney, he wants to keep it within his own reach as well.

So why, you ask, will we be taking our own personal Disney mountain along with us? First and foremost, Disney makes us both blissfully happy. I found Tom soon after my interest in Disney took off. From our first date, one of the things we most connected over was our mutual love of all things created in the House of Mouse. He has seen me through the creation of this blog, which has become an important outlet for me. From our trips to the parks, to watching the films, to our times bantering in Kathryn Beaumont or Hayley Mills voices, Disney has been one of the constant threads in the tapestry of our shared life. It doesn’t define us, to be sure, but it’s a slice of our experience together that is precious to us.

The stretching room portrait
above Tom's keyboard.

This move is going to be huge for me. It will be the first time I have moved in almost nine years, when I moved to New York City from Tallahassee. Over that near decade I have (arguably) grown into an adult. Along with adulthood has come a bevy of things that have been heaped onto the two suitcases I arrived here with. For a long time these objects gave me a sense of consistency. They made me feel like I had laid claim to a space of my own where I belonged. Now that I’m married to the most amazing man in the world, anywhere that I go I know that I will feel loved unconditionally. As Barbra might say, “Any place I hang my hat is home.” As long as Tom is there, that is. I don’t need a plethora of possessions when what is essential will always be by my side. So as we look forward to a new beginning, we shed what weighs us down, keep close the things that bring us joy, and start our own mutual collection- of memories, experiences and things alike. No doubt, more than a few will involve Disney in some way or other. Let the memories begin.

Orange You Glad

In case you didn't know, I heart pin trading. It's one of my favorite parts of going to Disney Parks. I usually stock a lanyard up with traders before I go, trade them throughout the trip and emerge with a unique souvenir. It's par for the course to go to Downtown Disney when I arrive in Orlando and have a looksee at the the new pins in Disney's Pin Traders.

Must be hard for him to find Mickey ears that fit.

When Tom and I went this past February, they were displaying a new set of hidden Mickey pins featuring a weird little orange and green dude that I was completely unfamiliar with. I thought he was cute and he piqued my curiosity, but I was too preoccupied trying to get a complete collection of Country Bear Jamboree pins to worry about collecting him.

Since then, I have done my research like a good boy and now I know that the little dude was the Orange Bird, who is a character created by Disney especially for the Florida Citrus Commission in 1970 to live in the Sunshine Tree Terrace, which the Enchanted Tiki Room would, coincidentally, empty into, and encourage people to, as M'Lynn would say, "Drink your juice, Shelby." He was a meet and greet character and was merchandised heavily throughout Florida, so I'm surprised that I'd never really seen him, considering that I was born and raised there. He was featured pretty prominently in the park until 1986, when the FCC and Disney parted ways, and faded a bit until folks in Japan embraced the cute little bugger and sparked a resurgence of Orange Bird related merch.

Meeting his public at the Sunshine Tree Terrace.

All of this is well and good, but I'm leaving out one major fact about this adorable little guy. He was inextricably linked to one Ms. Anita Bryant. Ring a bell? She's a pretty atrocious human being whose legacy is her organization Save Our Children, which in the late 70's succeeded in repealing a Florida ordinance banning anti-gay discrimination and convincing the legislature to pass a law barring gays and lesbians from adopting. She claimed that homosexuality was "immoral", "against God's wishes", and that "since homosexuals cannot reproduce, they must recruit and freshen their ranks." Charming, huh? The ex-pageant queen was famously rewarded for her efforts with a fruit pie in the face.

I was first made aware of Ms. Bryant in high school through the (life-changing, so you should read them now if you haven't already) Tales of the City books, which take place in San Francisco during the 70's and have a gay character, Mouse, who hails from Florida and is deeply affected by Ms. Bryant's disgusting shenanigans. Why is the character called Mouse? You get three guesses and the first two don't count.

I like her better when her hips wiggle.

So how does this harpy have anything to do with adorable orange friend? She was, at the time, also the spokesperson for the FCC, who had commissioned Disney to create him. After her crusade against the gays, there was a huge uproar and orange juice boycott, so it should come as no surprise that Ms. Bryant was dropped as the voice who implored you to "Serve it generously!" But not before she appeared in print ads and commercials with our orange friend and recorded a 45rpm record featuring his story and song, which was distributed free of charge to WDW guests. This is how it came to be that such a cutie pie was saddled with such awful, negative associations in many people's minds, including this gay boy's. I was even born and bred in Florida and fell right out of the very Sunshine Tree that Ms. Bryant was warbling beneath.

Since Orange Bird is becoming more ubiquitous in the parks, his round face calling out to be re-examined and better understood, I decided to try to gain some more perspective on what the little guy was all about. First I watched one of the Orange Bird commercials featuring Ms. Bryant, her children, Billy and Barbara Bryant (oh, the alliteration!) and Orange Bird, who is apparently kept in a fancy box in the kid's room.

It's kind of amazing how different the pacing for commercials in the 70's was, huh? That was downright epic compared to the twenty second, jump-cutting ads of today. They told the whole story of a sunny morning at home with the Bryants. Not a very exciting story, but nonetheless. There's nothing offensive about the clip. Ms. Bryant is terribly sunny, flirting with creepiness in a way only former beauty queens can manage. She's excited about how thrifty and delicious OJ is, just as she was paid to be. The Orange Bird is charmingly animated flying about and looks genuinely ecstatic to escape Stepford at the end and think orange thoughts in his orange tree home, unfettered by the oppressive Ms. Bryant and her perky bouffant.

She follows him out into the citrus groves for another commercial. Her hair is longer, but no less pert, and she introduces Orange Bird to the audience, mentioning his home at Walt Disney World. He really is adorable flitting around, thinking orange.

It was after seeing these that I stumbled upon a gold mine. Some genius had the wherewithal to make a YouTube video which taking the recording of the Orange Bird story and songs 45 and matching it to illustrations from the accompanying book. It lasts about twenty minutes and is totes worth the time. That's shorter than that episode of Friends that you've seen a hundred times and just as funny, but not as good as that episode of The Golden Girls that you've seen a thousand times. Nevertheless, the clip is quite well put together. I especially appreciate the subtle hip swinging they added to Ms. Bryant for the title song.

The basic story centers on our friend, Orange Bird, who cannot make any sounds, but thinks beautiful thoughts. When he concentrates very hard, his sunny thoughts appear above his head in a cloud of orange smoke. He loves his beautiful orange tree home, but is lonely, and so he ventures out into the world to find friends. He comes across a group of birds in the picnic park who mock and reject him for being silent. He can't sing like they do and can only muster an orange musical note in orange smoke above his head. Next, he goes to the city, where he narrowly escapes being eaten by a cat. He mistakes a stoplight for a birdhouse and is crestfallen when the kindred "orange bird" in the center roost disappears when the light turns red.

Isn't he just too precious for words?

He returns to the country, where he happens upon a family picnicking. The children and mother are charmed by him, but the father is suspicious and will not allow Orange Bird be their pet, despite thinking "I love you" in a puff above his head. "It's three against one," thinks the Orange Bird. "Isn't this a democracy?" (Bold political thinking by Orange Bird. If only it were that simple.) Though disappointed, the Orange Bird flies ahead of the family, keeping an eye on the road, when he sees a washed out bridge in their path. Knowing that he had to do something or the family was in real danger, Orange Bird concentrates harder than ever before and thinks a big orange stop sign. The father stops the car just in time and the family is saved.

The family emerges from the car to find their little orange friend and thank him. The daughter says she always knew he was a friend, despite what her father thought and says that "when you meet somebody new, you should stop, look and listen and most times he'll turn out to be a friend." The father admits that he's "jumped to too many conclusions in [his] life and many times [he's] been wrong." Then, the Orange Bird is invited to join the family and be their friend forever. And they all lived happily ever after, but not before one final ballad about his magical orange tree home, no doubt included to keep the FCC happy.

It's pronounced "or-eenge", thank you very much.

It's all actually quite charming and completely weird. Personal feelings aside, I can't say I care much for Ms. Bryant's performance. First and foremost, you'd think that the orange juice spokesperson would be required to be able to say the word "orange" correctly. Former Miss Oklahoma's odd accent means that we are, in fact, listening to the story of the "little Or-eenge Bird" in the "or-eenge tree" thinking "or-eenge thoughts". Ugh. In the words of a fed up toddler in tiara, you're drivin' me nuts!

I'm not a fan of her voice in general, which is rather flat and tinny, though I know recording technology didn't help her out in that regard. I think she would benefit from a healthy dose of auto-tune. Cue the Orange Bird dance remix. Her performance as narrator is fine. Nothing exciting. Not horrifyingly bad, but certainly not good. She did not miss her calling as a children's storyteller. I shudder at the thought of poor Billy and Barbara's nightly bedtime story with mom ("And the moral of the story is- if you meet a man who loves Judy Garland and dresses well, avoid him at all costs. He just wants to recruit you so he can get his toaster. Sweet dreams!").

The songs, it should be noted, are Sherman Brothers creations and are rather good if not outstanding. Second tier Sherman, to be sure, save that spritely title tune. The Orange Bird song is bright and sunny, appropriately enough, bouncing along and incorporating some clever wordplay, such as "his little beak can't even peep a squeak", while laying out the premise of Orange Bird as mute feathered friend who thinks in puffs of smoke.  I love the gentle slide up at the final world in the line, "Won't you think of something sunny just for me-ee?" It no doubt makes the FCC happy by incorporating the word "orange" in as much as humanly possible and including the Sunshine Tree that was so much a part of their campaign.

He's even a dancer!

What really hit me in the gut when hearing the whole story was that it can easily be read as an allegory. There are so many parallels between what happens to Orange Bird and the experience of a young gay man. He is voiceless, which is how many closeted young people feel. He lives in his thoughts, trying to stay positive and hopeful about his chances of finding love and others like him despite the world making him feel that he won't. He longs to reach out and make a connection with others. He escapes home looking for like-minded folk to accept him, but is shunned for being different and attacked for seeming vulnerable. He longs to be part of a family and is rejected by a paternal figure. He is looked upon as odd and not taken seriously because he communicates differently. These are all common threads in the stories of many gays youths.

It even has my name on it!

What I have come to genuinely love about Orange Bird is the persistent optimism he displays in the face of severe obstacles. Despite being rejected, physically threatened, and outcast, Orange Bird never loses faith and always believes that he will find love. In the end, happily, he does find the love of a family. I'd like to think that if there were a sequel, he would find another Orange Bird to makes his nest with. It is a story of hope overcoming hardship and love overcoming fear. I would love to see his It Gets Better video. Orange Bird is the kind of hero that my little seven year old gay self could have used in the 80's, but I guess we missed the record giveaway at WDW.

That's right, Orange Bird.
Kill 'em with kindness.

The irony that Anita Bryant was being so horribly small minded, spewing hatred and fear mongering, while at the same time narrating a story about understanding and accepting others who are different from you, is blindingly apparent. She herself should heed the sage theory about people-you've-yet-to-meet espoused by the young girl in the story. Stop, look and listen. Most times they'll turn out to be a friend. Kids say the darndest things, huh?

I think that it is time to completely pull Orange Bird out of the shadow that Ms. Bryant has cast and embrace him. All the reticence I had regarding the character at first has been wiped away and I now look on him as a gay icon of sorts. At the very least, he is certainly a role model for anyone who has felt crushed by the weight of being different, gay or straight. He reminds us that is up to us to triumph in spite of other's prejudices and think sunny, orange thoughts.

You can bet that next time I'm at WDW, an Orange Bird t-shirt is at the top of my list of purchases to make and I will make sure to explore the area that was formerly the Sunshine Tree Terrace a bit for remnants of his stay there. Also, I'm excited to say, there are rumors that Orange Bird will be incorporated somehow into the Enchanted Tiki Room when it reopens in Walt Disney World. The attraction was shut down after catching on fire and the rather unpopular (especially with me) "Under New Management" theming is being replaced by something akin to the original show.

I would love it if this idea comes to fruition. It would be awesome to have a place to visit my new orange hero and think my own "I love you", even if it's not in a cloud of orange smoke.