So I took a vacation. Packed up the wife and kids and mother in law in the family truckster and drove everybody to Wally World, represented in this case by Walt Disney World. It was suitably great, relaxing and tiring and fun and magical. I expected all that though, the walking and the lines and the rampant consumerism, the heartstopping awesomeness of seeing your kid's faces as they see something with their child's eyes that you could never hope to see with your cynical and jaded adult's. They still believe in magic; they don't care about tired feet and diminishing savings accounts, they think a pencil with Donald Duck on it is totally worth five dollars, and look hurt and confused when you can't see it too. It was incredible. I have never been to Disney before. It was promised me a couple of times and never seemed to materialize. I thought that my chance to experience it as a child was lost forever, and it was, in a very real sense, but I never knew that ...
Here in the Black and White