Tuesday, July 12, 2005

Birthdays, Trains and the Magic Kingdom

Yesterday was my 48th birthday. Oh thank heaven for 7-11!!!

They don't make many things that last 48 years anymore so I feel this is a major life accomplishment.

I was thinking about that today. What do they make that lasts 48 years? A paperclip?

Sure you see things that say "lifetime warranty" but is that really so special if you're eighty when you buy it?

Do we really need lifetime warranties on things like hearing aids and walkers?

Show me a product with a lifetime warranty that you can give to a two year old and I'll be impressed.

You give a two year old a cast iron shovel and an hour later it will be in pieces and the dog will have disappeared.

A two year old can destroy anything.

I actually began celebrating my birthday last Thursday by spending a day and a half in Los Angeles and then two days in Disneyland.

I then I did what any normal 48-year-old Italian would do to celebrate his birthday. Last night I went to see Frankie Valli live in concert at Humphrey's in San Diego.

There's a show that didn't need security. Why? Because half the audience was in the Witness Protection Program and the other half had names that ended in a vowel.

There were more baseball bats in the trunks of the cars in the parking lot than the Padres and Dodgers own combined.

I'm not saying Mafia: let's just say there were a lot of legitimate Italian businessmen that were persecuted by the Federal Government in the audience last night.

If you know what I mean.

There are three people that helped create more Italian children than anyone else on this planet.

Frank Sinatra, Barry White and Frankie Valli.

Those guys sing you get sex.

I think it's a law.

It's not like the music people listen today.

You listen to Rap and all you want to do is put a cap in your own head.

If I ever sang, excuse me, rapped, a song/poem whatever, that called my wife a bitch "I" would have to join the Witness Protection Program.

So back to Thursday.

I went to Los Angeles by train.

Right after the London bombing.

Train depot security in the United States isn't like Airport security.

They don't make you take your shoes off, they don't X-ray your wife's purse, they don't ask you stupid questions like, "Did any Muslim terrorist unbeknownst to you help you pack your luggage or ask you to carry any suspicious looking packages that may contain a bomb onto the plane today."

No, they have a guy named Earl, who says, and I quote, "Today we're checking ID's of all passengers whose ticket number ends in the number two. That's two like in, two for one or too late."

There were only four of us on the train.

None of us had tickets that ended in the number two or "too".

I sure felt safe.

I then rented a limo to get around Los Angeles.

Why not take a cab?

Because I don't want someone whose last name sounds like the sound I make when I spit driving me through LA traffic.

I also don't want a driver who gives me his life story which is the same story I get from those e-mails from Nigeria.

I took the train to Anaheim on Friday to spend two days in the Magic Kingdom, the happiest place on earth.....DISNEYLAND!!!!

I love Disneyland. Disneyland is truly the happiest place on earth....the first day.

On day two if you see Mickey you want to beat him to death.

$345 dollars per night for a room at the Disneyland Hotel!!!

$345 DOLLARS!!!

I stopped being happy.

For $345 dollars Minnie Mouse better be lying on my bed wearing something from Fredericks of Hollywood saying, "Me love you long time" because it sure feels like you're getting screwed.

Two days in Disneyland before buying food or anything else cost me $624.

They have a new park called California Adventure, which is appropriately named because here you get to compete with gang bangers for your spot in line to get into the park and they're upset because they just came off the Pirates of the Caribbean ride and they didn't see Johnny Depp. (That's not a joke)

Quick note to any border patrol agents reading this. I may have a clue were some illegal aliens are.

Seriously if you go to Disneyland do not go on a Saturday in July. Unless of course you like standing in line for two hours with fat people wearing orange tank tops, Bermuda shorts, socks with sandals and Mickey Mouse Ears who smell like old cheese and feet.

If I'm going to have to stand in a line that long behind people who smell they should at least be required to renew my driver's license and registration.

I don't mean to pick on the chunky. I just lost 74 pounds. I know what fat is. But I never left the house in a bright orange tank top, shorts and sandals. That's just wrong.

There was one whole family, six of them, all fat, I'm talking really fat, all dressed in the same orange tank tops.

Well I couldn't stand it,I had to ask why.

The answer..."so if we get separated we'll be able to spot one another."

"Spot" one another?

Um.....these people were huge. These were immense beings. A traffic helicopter could have pointed them out.

But people don't care what they look like when they're in the Magic Kingdom.

I saw freaks, geeks and Sikhs.

I saw Japanese people, who apparently can't enter Disneyland without a suit and tie. I think they worship Winnie the Pooh.

I saw "Goths", which made me laugh because it was about 105 degrees and their white face and black eye shadow was melting.

Bozo the Clown would have been so proud.

By the time our stay in Disneyland was over I'd spent close to $1,500.

I bought a Pirate hat and a sword.

I'm going to use it the next time I go to the DMV.