I’m going to Disney World!
As I write this blog, I’m seated on our patio in Florida, having just arrived after a 19 hour drive from Canada. It’s March Break and we’re here for a week to relax, enjoy the sun and hit the Parks.
I also promised myself a blog update.
We’re Disney World regulars, and, as a middle-aged guy, I am not ashamed to say my favourite attraction/ride at Disney World has always been the Haunted Mansion. In fact we have fast-passes reserved for tomorrow at 10:10 a.m.
I thought I was savvy when it came to Disney. I’ve read books, researched, and know enough to debunk the whole cryogenic head rumor.
But I didn’t know this.
Park goers – occasionally – spread the cremated ashes of their loved ones, on the Haunted Mansion ride.
Yes, at both Disney World and Disneyland.
The Disney Corporation fields requests every year from mourners asking if they can spread ashes on Park property. Haunted Mansion and Pirates of the Caribbean, both in Magic Kingdom, are the most requested destinations. And while the answer is always a legal ‘no’, a determined Executor will not necessarily be deterred. Options exist for the surviving family member of a Mouseketeer.
Disney Staff have a code word for this scenario. No, it’s not ‘clean up on isle four’. The code phrase is ‘Hepa clean up’.
Hepa filters – not just for pet dander anymore.
There’s a term for the tactic – wildcat scattering – the surreptitious dumping of human remains in public or private places, sans permission. While I understand the concept, I question the logic.
Sure, aunt Agnes loved all things Disney. And spending an eternity listening to the Grim Grinning Ghosts, in the happiest place on earth, is a fitting tribute. But – what if things change in 20 years? Even Disney has to move with the times. If Haunted Mansion becomes passé, or is no longer pulling in the crowds, what’s to say a major revamp isn’t in order?
Perhaps a ‘Bieber-Land’. A ride dedicated to all things Justin Bieber. Not that I have anything against Justin, I’m a big supporter of great Canadian talent, but think of poor aunt Agnes’ soul, lost in all eternity, listening to JB’s ‘Sorry’.
Tomorrow, when I’m in queue for Haunted Mansion, my senses will be ever vigilant. While I don’t expect to spy an urn, people are too clever for that, anyone carrying a Starbucks grande, or heaven forbid, a venti, and not drinking from it, is a prime suspect.
999 haunts, and Haunted Mansion welcomes one more. I think we’re well over that now, thanks Mr. Disney.
If you’re contemplating your own surreptitious deposit at Disney World, think again. Whether we’re planted six feet under, cremated or entombed, nothing is certain.
Eternity is not forever.
Until next time.