A Pirate's Life for Me.

I’ve seen the ceiling of the Pirates of the Caribbean ride. I remember when the pirates were trying to rape that chick in the village instead of steal her food. I’ve always thought it’s the best theme ride at Disneyland, with the most realistic animatronic dudes.

But I fell asleep in the movie.

It wasn’t boring, per se, but Orlando Bloom was in it, so, maybe I should reconsider that opinion. I just didn’t really get into the film all that much. I fell asleep for 40 minutes of it, woke up in time to see the ghost pirates march under the ship and then I more or less watched the rest of the movie in that just-woke-up mental fog. I recall that I saw this in the apartment downstairs, where a girl I liked lived. Her roommate was the one who wanted me, though, so the girl I wanted suddenly became off limits. Still, homegirl could drink and on a Sunday afternoon I had more Rolling Rocks than I care to recall. The beer, more than anything, could actually explain the falling asleep thing.

Nah. It was definitely Orlando Bloom.

You won’t find me in line for Pirates of the Caribbean 2: Dead Man’s Chest (or POTC2: RUN DMC) tonight. I’ll be in line for Strangers with Candy. If you didn’t like the Comedy Central series, then you won’t like the movie, you have no sense of humor, and I don’t feel sorry for you for not having a sense of humor. Kidding.

Before the movie, though, I’ll be watching the Giants (cross my fingers, please God, oh God, oh God, please) beat the Dodgers tonight at Chavez Ravine. I’ll be wearing a Giants cap. My biggest fear is not getting shot. It’s watching the Giants lose the game on a walk-off grand slam that knocks them out of the playoffs. Thankfully, the Giants can’t be eliminated from playoff contention with a loss tonight (their troublesome roster coming into the season has already done that), so I won’t have my worst fear realized.

That being said, I thought the topic of biggest fear is one worth posting about. I’ll twist it a little bit to make it things that scare the shit out of me. The one thought I can always go to for cold shivers up my spine is the thought of being a maintenance guy on Disneyland rides.

Think about it: you’re standing on a concrete island covered in Astroturf, behind a cardboard cutout of a palm tree, while across the way you see this ginormous riverboat rocking back and forth with animatronic animals wearing ridiculous while they sway to and fro. You can’t hear the music (“Zippity-Doo-Da”) because the tech guys have turned it off so you can repair the stage lighting aimed at the riverboat and its painted orange backdrop. What you can hear is the sound of the air compressors and mechanical lifts that rock the riverboat and animate the animals. You can also hear the water splashing against the side of your concrete island and flowing through your indoor artificial outdoor environment.

The lighting on the Disneyland rides sell the illusion of those suckers. If you ever saw any of that with work lights or natural lighting you’d not only recognize that it’s junky old dusty pieces of prop handiwork, but you’d also be creeped out because its acting like it’s real and alive. The more intensely I scrutinize the pirates of the Caribbean, or the animals of Splash Mountain, the more I can conjure up some weird, twisted nightmare. The rides are just creepy sometimes.

But Orlando Bloom sucks all the time.

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Part two of Thine Own Self will be posted tomorrow. I am writing this post on a computer that doesn’t have the script on it, so once I get home and I can do it. Suffice it to say, the hackneyed opening definitely branches out into some odd territory.

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Music suggestion for today: Still in Love Song by The Stills off of Logic Will Break Your Heart.