no one fights like Gaston

Disneyland is the original, self-proclaimed "Happiest Place on Earth." But recently, it was anything but. A cellphone video taken by a recent theme park guest went viral when it was posted to YouTube. It was immediately exploited by every local Los Angeles news broadcast and then — through the power of social media — it spread nationally. As chronicled by the amateur video several adult members of one family are shown arguing... arguing loudly enough to garner attention from other Disneyland visitors. Suddenly, the argument escalated to shouting which, in turn, explodes in violence. A man is seen striking a woman in the face several times. Then there's some spitting, followed by another man throwing hard punches. Then, another woman is thrown to the cement ground by one of the men after she surprisingly abandons her electric scooter. The whole episode lasts just under minute, but it is very unnerving and upsetting to watch. A few brave onlookers attempt to intervene. Eventually, park security arrives on the scene and handles things in a proper manner. They were all escorted off of Disney property and into the waiting hands of the Anaheim Police Department.

Happiest Place on Earth

The video is difficult to watch for a few reasons. One... it's Disneyland, for goodness sake! Not only that, the melee took place in the Toontown section of the park, an area that is geared towards younger guests. Seeing these folks smacking each other around in the shadow of Goofy's house, complete with its whimsical cartoon mailbox just a foot or two away from the fisticuffs, was, among other things, surreal. Second... aren't these people on vacation, where all of your troubles and anxieties are put on hold? Third.... as my son pointed out, there are so many cheaper places to fight with your family than at a Disney theme park. Each one of those guests easily paid around one hundred dollars to beat on each other. They could have done it for free out on Harbor Boulevard.

The entire episode, unfortunately, is not uncommon. In hot weather, in stressful situations with sensory overload, tensions mount and emotions explode. As a veteran of many Disney vacations (in both Disneyland and Walt Disney World), I have personally witnessed instances of this behavior. On every trip we have taken to either Disneyland or Walt Disney World, my wife, my son and I stroll through the various themed lands looking for people who are very obviously not enjoying themselves. "Oh, that guy really wants to be here." we'd quietly point out to each other, singling out an angry Dad with a scowl across his face, arms tightly folded across his chest, leaning on a stroller that is unsuccessfully trying to contain a crying infant. The mouse ears hat atop his infuriated head is the crowning glory. We've often seen family members screaming at each other. An agitated father yelling about how much this trip is costing him. An exasperated mother throwing up her hands in surrender and children of varying ages, their faces smeared with dried remnants of ice cream, stomping their little feet or escalating a tantrum to rolling uncontrollably on the ground (and blocking the path of other guests).

As I watched the YouTube video (along with, at last count, over 4 million other viewers), I was reminded of a few episodes similar to the brawl depicted in the video — one dating back to 1986. My wife and I drove to Walt Disney World in December 1986 along with a friend of ours. Mrs. Pincus was three months pregnant and this would be our "last hurrah" before the responsibilities of parenting took over as top priority in our lives. At the time, Disney property boasted only four resorts and all were way out of our price range. We opted, instead, to stay at a small motel on I-192 in Kissimmee, just a mile or so from Disney World and not far from where Mrs. P and I spent our honeymoon two years earlier. Upon check-in, we were given keys (yes, actual metal keys on a big plastic fob) to a room at the rear of the parking lot. We unpacked our car and and readied ourselves for a week-long vacation. We headed out to Walt Disney World Village, the small shopping area at the crossroads of Apopka Vineland Road and Hotel Plaza Boulevard. (This little distraction has since been expanded several times and is now known as Disney Springs.) We ate dinner, browsed some shops and then retired to our room for some sleep before our first day at the Magic Kingdom.

wah wah wah

We were awakened early the next morning — not by an alarm or a prearranged wake-up call — but by a muffled sound coming from beyond the adjoining wall of the room behind ours. Almost as soon as it began, the sound increased in volume. They were obviously human voices, but actual words were not determinable. It was closer to the sound made by adults and teachers on the Charlie Brown animated television specials — that "wah-wah-wah" supplied by a trumpet player skillfully applying a mute to his instrument's brass bell. The sound got very loud very quickly, sounding as close as though the folks were in our room. Actually, there were some words that we could make out. Four words, as a matter of fact. Four consecutive words that stood out, clear as a bell, among the other muffled words coming through that six-inch thick drywall barrier. Among the unintelligible vocalization we distinctly recognized "shut the fuck up" being repeated by both parties as though each monosyllabic word was intoned by a diction coach. The gist of the disagreement was unclear, but "shut the fuck up" that punctuated nearly every sentence rang out each time like a church bell on Sunday morning. As the week went on, we were awakened by this same muted dialogue from our neighbors every single morning. We were in a motel, so we knew we were on vacation. We could only assume that the "Shut The Fuck Up" Family (as we came to affectionately refer to them) were on vacation, as well. If this was how they behaved on vacation, we couldn't imagine what their interaction was like at home.

I'll show you a Laughing Place.

Years later, my wife, my young (at the time) son and I found ourselves in the Magic Kingdom in the summer — a particularly volatile time for stress and emotions and our extended family was no exception. My wife's brother and his wife were also along on this particular trip and we met up with them in the queue line for Splash Mountain. The line was unusually long and we were inching our way towards the actual ride entrance (which, if you've ever been to a Disney theme park, is nowhere in sight from this end of the line). With a park filled with people and a concentration of hot, sweaty, uncomfortable folks surrounding us, my brother-in-law and his wife broke into a very loud, very heated disagreement that very quickly blossomed into an angry and raw shouting match. Their caterwauls stopped passing groups in their tracks and elicited judging side looks from our fellow queue-members and we genuinely were afraid that the two of them would soon come to blows. (Seriously!) Suddenly, my sister-in-law spat out a final word and stormed off, disappearing into the crowd swarming in and around nearby Frontierland. My brother-in-law, looking forlorn and helpless (he's six-foot-four and was bedecked in a particularly gaudy Disney-themed shirt), asked his sister if she thought he should go after his spouse. This did not really require an answer and he reluctantly left the ride line in search of his wife and possible reconciliation. Although we were all staying in the same hotel, we never saw them again for the remainder of the week.

The scene of the crime

In 2009, we were told of an almost fist fight that was squelched by a quick and attentive Disney cast member. My family and I were finishing up our dinner at the Rose & Crown Pub in the United Kingdom pavilion in EPCOT. As Linda, our waitress for the evening, cleared our table of the dinner dishes, she made friendly chit-chat. Actually, she was quite friendly all evening. We seemed to have been one of the last guests remaining in the restaurant's dining room, as most other diners had moved to the outside patio that overlooks World Showcase Lagoon for an optimum view of the IllumiNations nighttime spectacle (which sadly ends on September 30, 2019 after nearly 20 years). We had marveled at the signature fireworks and lighting display many times before, so seeing it through the large glass windows of the dining room was just fine for us. Linda took a seat at our table and began to relate some "insider" stories of being a Disney cast member. She told us that she rarely waits tables and usually works the bar in the front part of the pub. One evening, she explained, two gentlemen were throwing back beers while their families were checking out the quaint offerings of the UK pavilion. It seems their intake of alcohol was more than they could handle and they began to get loud and unruly. In the heat of a disagreement, on of the men poked his finger a little too close to the other man's face. The pointee stood and uneasily leaned into his tormentor. Linda told us how she leaped over the bar and wedged her small frame between the two men and into harm's way, using her slight arms to separate them. "Hey," she shouted, "remember where you are, guys! Disney World! Y'know Mickey Mouse and all that!" Linda's efforts were successful and the two men left separately and under their own recognizance. She continued to tell us that this was only one of dozens of fights and near fights she witnessed during her employ with Disney.

So, if you are planning a trip to Disneyland or Walt Disney World.... remember two things: Try not to fight. But, if you feel the need to fight, make sure you know where your camera is. After all, are stress levels going to be high on family vacations? Of course they are. Is fighting in a Disney theme park anything new? Not at all.

It's a tale as old as time.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

i love the dead

With so much going on in the world — so many important topics up for discussion and debate — I thought I'd focus on a subject that holds the utmost importance to me.

Me.

Specifically, my wonderful and turbulent relationship with the internet. Over a decade ago, I entered the world of the World Wide Web when I published the first entry* on joshpincusiscrying.com, my illustration blog. My blog consisted mostly of entries for the weekly challenge posted on Illustration Friday, a sort-of community of artists from all over the world. Illustration Friday offers a single word of inspiration and allows artists a week to interpret that word until the next Friday brings a new word. I have actively participated in this process for eleven-plus years, never missing a single week (even when Illustration Friday missed a few themselves). I began small, hesitant to post anything controversial, fearful of editorializing, expressing my opinions or — gulp! — causing a stir. In between my weekly drawings, I began to create drawings of my own inspiration, under the category title "from my sketchbook."  But, over time, I began to inject some of my unorthodox sense of humor that has become the unofficial Josh Pincus trademark. 

In 2008, I posted this drawing of aspiring actress Peg Entwistle, who met an untimely demise in 1932. A distraught Peg, weary of the cruel treatment she received from film executives who crushed her glittery dreams of stardom, flung herself from the top of the massive "H" in the famed "Hollywood" sign that loomed over Tinsel Town. My illustration pissed a reader off so much that he contacted me with a series of threatening emails. I was so pleased that someone took that much time and effort with something that I created, I couldn't have been more flattered. As an artist, as far as I'm concerned, there is no such thing as bad publicity. I would rather have my art evoke anger than joy. Anger is a much stronger and more passionate emotion. 

But it didn't end there. I was reprimanded by the admin of another illustration website. I received more threatening emails regarding a drawing I did of session drummer/convicted murderer Jim Gordon. I pissed off a fellow artist who accused me of being a bully. The list goes on and it's all documented under the "About" tab on my blog's homepage.

In 2008, I joined Twitter, which — depending how you look at it — was the best or worst thing I could have ever done. Twitter became the ideal place for Josh Pincus to flourish. It became an outlet for  my jokes, commentary, sarcasm and stream-of-consciousness thought. To date, I have logged over 55,000 tweets. It's a wonder I ever get any work done. Soon, I began to promote my drawings on Twitter. I gained more followers and widened my audience, although, I maintain, that I draw primarily for my own amusement.

Troublemaker

Last year, while looking to amp up my illustration output from what had dwindled to just one per week, I began a new series on my illustration blog. I kicked off 2016 by posting the first drawing in my series I decided to call "Dead Celebrity Spotlight." As I stated in the premiere entry, this would marry two of my prime interests: drawing and celebrities who had passed on. The "drawing" part was obvious. I have been drawing since I was a child. The "dead celebrity" part stems from my love of old Hollywood, chock full of obscure tales of fleeting fame and spectacular deaths and my affinity for visiting cemeteries (yeah, I do that). So, after drawing and writing about a different dead celebrity (some that you recognize, some that you hardly even heard of) every week for an entire year, I continued the series into the current year, adding some special "mid-week" entries as the news of the passing of a beloved and renowned public figure broke. There are (as of right now) one hundred and twelve drawings and stories in the Dead Celebrity Spotlight series. I plan to keep posting new ones every Friday. I hope they garner the reaction that my most recent post achieved.

Early Friday morning, I woke up at 5:45 and, after showering and brushing my teeth and warming up the Keurig, I lumbered up to the third floor of my house to post the daily celebrity death anniversaries on the Josh Pincus Facebook fan page. Then, before heading back downstairs for a cup of coffee, a bowl of Raisin Bran and a couple of episodes of The Andy Griffith Show prior to catching my morning train, I selected a draft from the backlog library of "Dead Celebrity Spotlight" section of my blog to publish. This day, I chose a personal observation of teen idol David Cassidy, whose death just last week at a youthful 67 shocked and saddened a generation of fans who grew up watching and loving him on The Partridge Family. My drawing and commentary went live at 6:19 AM and, little did I know, all hell was about to break loose. My tweet, which is set up to automatically generate from Facebook, got some "likes," some "retweets," and some "replies" — one of which was quite displeased by my sentiment.

A Twitter user named Mar offered this reply:

In typical Josh Pincus fashion, I responded:

I thought this was funny enough to post as a screenshot on my Facebook page as well.

Later, another angered Twitter user, suspiciously calling herself  "Laurie," perhaps as an homage to Susan Dey, David Cassidy's TV sister on the 70s sitcom, expressed her displeasure at the choice of terms I used as the title of my illustration series (on my blog).

This one was puzzling. Was she offended? Really? It's not like I said "Croaked Celebrities," or "Celebrities Now Residing in Box City," or "Lifestyles of the Rotting and Famous," or any number of other derogatory euphemisms for "The Great Beyond." "Dead" is a perfectly good, non-offensive word. Funeral directors, doctors, newscasters, even your mother ("Oh dear, I just heard from Fannie that Milton is dead.") use it all the time. 

So, not being one to drop things until they are thoroughly beaten into submission, I questioned:

Laurie replied:

But the criteria for inclusion in this series is the celebrity has to be dead. Not for any particular length of time, just dead. I have done drawings of celebrities within minutes of the announcement of their death (former Phillies pitcher Roy Halladay comes to mind). I tried to stress this in 140 characters or less, but my confusion hindered my ability to be as articulate as I would have liked. Instead, I returned this:

Her brief retort popped up almost immediately, followed by what is commonly known as  a "kiss-off:"

And, just like that, she was gone. Her portion of the debate ended. Her final summation delivered. As Archie Bunker often proclaimed: "Case closed!"

When I was compiling screenshots to compose this entry on It's Been a Slice, I was met by this message when I visited "Laurie's" Twitter account page:

Now we're talking. Or... maybe we're not.

I said it before, and I'll say it again: Oh, do I love the internet!

* Ironically, that initial entry, in March 2007, featured an illustration of Bill Cosby, whose shattered career has been chronicled in recent headlines. How prophetic of me. I think.

***** ***** ***** ***** *****

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(Please contact me if you have trouble with the download.)

www.joshpincusiscrying.com