In 1985, my family went to Disney (the one in Florida... Land, World, whatevs). We also took in many, many wonderful places that I feel still influence my travel needs! (Weeki Wachee- The Only City of Live Mermaids- is still among the coolest, kitschy-est delights EVER). But Disney, as you may guess, was the highlight. Our T-Shirts? Like highlighters! See, in my memory, my Mom wanted to be able to spot us in the throngs of potentially dangerous people that lurk amongst the rides, kidnapping at will and so she chose for us the YELLOWEST shirts ever Made (in China, no doubt). Forget seeing us from Frontierland, she could see us from SPACE! I had Minnie on mine. My Dad, had Donald (what with the name and all) and my Mom, of course, had Daisy. But the star of the day was worn by Jeff. He had Goofy on his T-Shirt. And you can imagine the shenanigans that ensued when we encountered the "real" Goofy on Main Street, USA. Not allowed to speak, Goofy kept pointing at the shirt, miming a pen, pointing, miming, pointing... you get the well, point? And my Mom, who had assumably taken a Mime Course at the Learning Annex, shouted, "he wants to autograph your shirt, Jeff!!" Oh, the excitement as she dug in her purse* for a pen (*may have been a fanny pack for safety). Oh, the jealousy as I wondered where the hell Minnie was and why wasn't I signing her fucking shirt?
In the end, Goofy autographed my brother's shirt. And then leaned down and was forced to ASK my mother where she got it- which had been his question all along. The lessons? 1) Don't assume anything when there is a Disney character involved. And 2) For every shade of yellow, there is a beholder to see its beauty. Oh, and 3) In no universe, was that beholder my Dad. As I am sure he doesn't have on his fine 80s jacket for warmth!
On a side note- and not that I should be one to talk with my high waist white shorts and mullet-esque hair do but I love that my Mom got a strangers gut in the pic!
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