Remain Seated Please... Permanaced Sentados Por Favor

After the week I just had (one of the worst in a very long time) - I could not decide which would be more interesting to "blog" about: 1. My brand new car getting stolen from my garage 2. My 24 hours of being awake and driving to LA 2X in one day to finally get home at 4.36 am = only because I forgot to lock the theater door or 3. Losing my cat Saturday night and breaking into hysterical tears in the backyard - crying and trying to call out her name - Since all of those options seem to be sad and "just my luck" I actually thought I would focus on a friendlier and more positive blog (it has been a while) --- DISNEYLAND!!! The happiest place on earth.

So over the past few weeks I have had the unlucky pleasure of driving up to LA at least 3X a week and on Saturdays to my theater in Hollywood. Most of these drives take me right up the 5 freeway, right pass Disneyland. The silly part about this is - I probably live less than 10 miles from Disneyland but the traffic on the 5 freeway through this stretch can take up to 45 minutes.

Each time I sit in bumper to bumper traffic pass the "happiest place on earth" - I think back to the days when I was less then seven years old - when we would drive in from the gutter of California (San Bernardino) to go to DISNEYLAND!

I remember being so anxious, so excited, so ... nervous. Would I see Mickey Mouse? Would he talk to me? Would I get sick on the T-Cups. I want to be the one to lift Dumbo up and down this time? Oh I love Small World - they remind me of my dolls. We better get to go to Country Bear Jamboree, Are those Pirates real? and OH MY GOD!!!!!! SNOW! SNOW! Snow? Snow in the city? It must be magic, real magic.

There was nothing like driving on the 5 freeway during the years of 1974-1977, depending on which parent had my brother and I for the weekend; we were either in a Pinto or a Corvette - either way the view from the freeway was magical.

I remember knowing we were close when I could see The Matterhorn in the distance. It was huge. It was the biggest mountain EVER! My mind back then truly thought that they had built Disneyland around the mountain - I never actually could have fathomed that The Matterhorn was not real. Certainly it was real - it had snow on it and trees = Not to mention real people from Switzerland were climbing it - Oh My God - what if they fall off - are they safe? How do they get down? Oh I was so scared. No way was I going to ride the bobsleds - no way = plus I remember hearing that the Abdominal Snowman lived inside the mountain - Are you nuts? I do not think I rode the Matterhorn until I was about 13 years old.

Now I am 37 years old and each time I drive by and look at the Matterhorn - I actually kind of giggle - it looks like a pile of rocks. It is so undaunting, so small and were did the climbers go. I can totally tell that it is man made and to be honest - I am not sure what I was so afraid of as a kid - that ride is a "yawn". The best part about the ride is standing in line reciting the bi-lingual greeting - which has not changed probably since the ride opened in 1959.

I wonder what the adult equivalent is now to the Matterhorn of 1974? I am not sure I have found the mountain of wonder today in 2007. You know that great feeling of anticipation, the eagerness to get somewhere with wide eyes and total belief in what is right in front of you. Does the reality of age take away the youthful imagination? Or can we find something magical to believe in today? And I am not talking about world peace, no hunger, and no poverty - I am talking Matterhorn Magic?

Who knows? Until I discover it - I guess I will look the other way as I drive pass Disneyland. I really don't want to see the Matterhorn from these eyes. I want to always remember the Matterhorn as I saw it from the window of the car back in 1977. 30 years ago.

Are you my Mother?

Have you ever had one of those dreams where it seemed like you were in a cartoon, but not just any cartoon - more like the pages of a Dr Suess book. Like you were skipping through the pages of "Who-ville" counting fishes and eating green eggs and ham, although you don't like green eggs and ham, wondering what mischievous deed is about to explode with the Cat in the Hat or better yet having conversations with Fox, or Horton, or even POP. I think last night I was actually having intense debates in my dreams with all of my Suess friends. Perhaps I was questioning those hard questions in life, like If I ran the circus or better yet if I ran the zoo - it all seemed oddly real, fun and then it went to poo!

I woke up.

I had not been drinking last night, and I do not do drugs - although most would question my sanity right now. I remembered my dream and it was a good one too. I thought about all the Dr Suess books I loved as a little girl and it brought me back to my most favorite.

Are you my mother? The story of a little bird who hatched while his mother was away, who set out to find her on a larger than life journey. This little bird asks everyone along it's path, a dog, a cow, a plane and even a tractor. Are you my mother?

Had I not dreamed about all of my Suess friends, I don't think I would have actually picked up on the question I have probably been asking for most of my life, myself.

It is strange to be without a mother, sometimes I wonder which part of her did I inherit. Did she have an insane love for theater and art? Was she incredibly emotional and felt the pain and sadness of those around her? Better yet - did she insist that background music was playing from all the early decades each and every day in her life to accompany the many, many special moments.

I often wonder about those things. I often wonder if she wonders about me? I often wonder what it must be like for her to not know me? Not that I am so damn great but it is odd to know that she is out there, and I am here and yet .... we don't know anything about each other really.

I happen to actually find this photo of my mother this morning, I was not looking for it. I was filing old bills in individual plastic accordion files by year, by category, and separated by statement date (that trait is from my dad by the way) and ironically I found this photo. Funny how dreams lead you to something, even when you have no idea. I blame the Cat in the Hat (always trouble with that guy - always).

I don't search for her anymore but I do wonder.

Thanks mom for the blond hair and blue eyes.