Disneyland's Jungle Cruise, circa 2010:
"Welcome, everybody, and please watch your step while boarding. Before we
begin our cruise, please take a moment to fill out the waiver form in the
seat pocket in front of you. It says that you will not sue us for any offenses,
unintended as they may be, that you encounter on the ride.
"I'll be your tour guide. My name is Jeremy W. Martin and I am a professor
of sociology in the University of California system. I also hold degrees
in anthropology, animal husbandry, comparative cultures and formerly hosted
a public television talk show titled "Man's Place in the Universe." "As we
pull away from port, which was built with the sweat of exploited Third World
labor, you will notice the towering trees on both your left and right. They
are emblematic of the thousands of varieties being destroyed daily in South
American rain forests by multinational corporate interests inimical to the
people's wishes. Please note the trees are made of a synthetic material that
is easily recyclable and transportable, and which do not contribute in any
way to industrial pollution."
Silence from the stone-faced guests is interrupted by a youngster's voice:
"What happened to those funny people who used to work here?"
"We have upgraded our job requirements, young man, and many of those former
guides simply didn't have the advanced degrees required for the job. Their
idea of humor poked fun at certain things, and that isn't what an amusement
park does.
"Now, as we continue, you'll notice the presence of completely fake elephants
who appear to be cavorting at a watering hole. If you would like to photograph
them, that is permissible."
Again, the young boy interjects: "I liked it better when the tour guide used
to say, 'Go ahead and take their pictures, they're wearing trunks."
Awkward laughter filters through the boat. "Well, young man, that line was
a bit risque and made some of our guests uncomfortable, so we discontinued
it after receiving a number of complaints."
The boy slumps in his seat.
"As we make the bend in the river now, in about 10 seconds you will see some
large hippopotami rise from the water. I want to warn you of that, because
a guest once was surprised and jerked upward, bumping her head on an overhead
railing. She sued us for $1 million. OK, folks, when the fake hippos rise
from the water, I want everyone to say in a normal voice, "Look at the hippos
over there."
"Hey," the young boy says, "didn't the guide used to have a fake blunderbuss
and shoot it? That was the funny part."
"We banned that in 2001. Son, we here at Disneyland don't want to encourage
the use of guns and certainly don't want to suggest they be directed at animals.
We respect animal life, especially our friends of the animatronic species.
We'll be handing out brochures to each of you that decry the mindless killing
of wild beasts around the world.
"Now, as we near journey's end, we direct your attention to the prehistoric
village scene on your left, once inhabited by indigenous peoples of the area.
Do you know what 'indigenous' means, young man?"
"Yeah, it means they couldn't swallow the missionaries they were cooking."
The guide reddens. "No, it means these prehistoric peoples were here before
anyone else visited, and that they made many important contributions to future
societies."
"Oh. Where are the skulls of people who were being cooked by the cannibals
in the big pots?"
"That part of the tour was discontinued years ago. It provided a distorted
picture of the peoples who lived in ancient times and shed little light on
our efforts to understand our historical connections. Besides, some parents
thought it frightened their children."
"But it was funny," the boy says. "This is all supposed to be make-believe,
anyway, isn't it? I didn't laugh once the whole ride."
"Laughing and escapism has its place," the guide replies, "but not at an
amusement park. This concludes our tour. Does anyone have any final
questions?"
"I do," the young boy says, glumly. "Can I have my money back?"
*
Dana Parsons' column appears Wednesdays, Fridays and Sundays. Readers may
reach Parsons by calling at (714) 966-7821; by writing to him at The Times'
Orange County edition, 1375 Sunflower Ave., Costa Mesa, CA 92626; or by e-mail
to dana.parsons@latimes.com.