The Day the Mickey Died - In memoriam: Pal Mickey

[Peter Panic Attack]

Hehehe, two days and a few extra pant changes later( it seems I have the same problem your dearly departed Pal Mickey had, except mine only happens when I laugh too much) I am finished catching up on your TR. YaY! Now hopefully I don't have to wait forever for the finish, cause I hate to wait.... Kinda glad I caught on near the end.

Your timing is nearly impeccable....glad you're enjoying it.

Thanks for the new chapter PPA! No mention of Mickey, though. Out of sight, out of mind, huh?

Apparently so.....Tinkershell noticed the same thing. Maybe I'm in denial.

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

I have to give your Le Cellier server credit for at least trying to find something for DS Buddy to eat besides Chicken Fingers. You know, roast chicken, chicken fingers, I see a common theme. Too bad your Le Cellier experience didn't live up to last time. DH and I always do the Candelight Processional dinner package and we usually end up like your family did, coming in from dinner only to find a very long line of "Reserved Space Holders" already waiting. Rita Moreno is very good, we saw her the first time. We've also seen John Stamos, Gary Sinise, and Marlie Matlin. I think she was my favorite, although I was very star-struck by Lt. Dan and Uncle Jesse!

How did I miss shebaxric? Actually, I would still say our Le Cellier experience was a positive one....even with the roast chicken and burnt digits. It's definitely Tinkershell's favorite.....and would probably be mine if it weren't for the Biergarten's black forest cake.

Man....you've seen the Candlelight Processional a few times...haven't ya? Was Lt. Dan in his combat fatiques?

 

[My sister's princess]

Great update as always! I was also excited to hear you pick on Jennifer instead of my beloved Kate

 

[estherhead]

I have no idea what our waiter’s name was....but I can tell you that he was a guy.....and that he was pretty funny. I am always amazed by people in their trip reports who can retell their server's life story. Their name.....where they grew up.....how they got their job. I mean....how is all this information gathered? “Welcome to 50's PT...I’ll be your server....can I start you out folks out with an appetizer. Why yes....an appetizer sounds lovely....but do you mind if I ask you a few questions about your childhood first?” or “So, did anyone leave room for dessert? We sure did.......you know what else we left room for ....the end of that fascinating story you were telling us earlier about why your second marriage failed.” Anyway, I’m sure our waiter mentioned his name.....

I discovered something shocking while writing my last TR with my sis, Suzy. She kept mentioning the names of her wait staff which granted, she is a lot more observant than me, but she is certainly not chit chatty. So I called her on it & asked her if she had notes or something. She then confesses that the names of server is on the bottom of the receipt! Duh.

 

[Kimberly815]

I found your trip report the other day and have been enjoying it ever since. . . that is until I read today about poor Mickey's passing. I am still reeling from the event but with time I am sure I will be able to move on like the rest of the Panic Attacks.

In the meantime, please keep the tales coming. I am sure it will help my mourning process.

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

Great update as always! I was also excited to hear you pick on Jennifer instead of my beloved Kate

Thanks you. See, I can be unkind to others besides Kate......she just seems to hog the spotlight lately.

I discovered something shocking while writing my last TR with my sis, Suzy. She kept mentioning the names of her wait staff which granted, she is a lot more observant than me, but she is certainly not chit chatty. So I called her on it & asked her if she had notes or something. She then confesses that the names of server is on the bottom of the receipt! Duh.

So its just a cheap parlor trick.....and here I thought all of these other people were brilliant.

I found your trip report the other day and have been enjoying it ever since. . . that is until I read today about poor Mickey's passing. I am still reeling from the event but with time I am sure I will be able to move on like the rest of the Panic Attacks.

In the meantime, please keep the tales coming. I am sure it will help my mourning process.

Thanks....I'm glad you like it. I had hoped to have another chapter today.....but I guess it wasn't in the cards....just didn't have the right groove today. Tomorrow for sure though.....probably.

 

[hucifer]

In my mind I could just picture Pal Mickey....sitting in the middle of a big pile of misplaced cameras, sunglasses and grandchildren....trying to comfort them with his silly jokes... while he waited patiently to be recovered.

I can totally picture that too...that's just the kind of plushie he was.

we all knew she was just telling us what we wanted to hear....because statistics have shown that plush interactive toys that are missing for more than an hour are seldom recovered. We had to accept that fact that some wretched person.....or possibly a rogue gang of poisonous lizards....had taken our Pal Mickey.

Darn those statistics. DARN THEM!

Was that just the spray from the fountains on that quiet family's cheeks? Who's to say.

If you were sitting in the front row, and it was windy, it very well could have been.

we wandered off in the direction of the Streets of America where they had the Osborne Lights. Kind of funny really, Pal Mickey had always loved Christmas lights.

Yes, he did. In both years of his life.

As we stood among the lights....and listened to the beautiful music....it was like a sense of peace came over us. There was so much joy in the air.....it was kind of like it started to smother our grief. There was magic in the air....and that’s what Pal Mickey was....magic. Standing in the middle of the street... surrounded by all those Christmas lights that one special family had lovingly collected over a life time....I kind of felt Pal Mickey slip his little hand into mine.....and that’s when I knew he would never really be gone.

This is both wildly hilarious and incredibly depressing at the same time.

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

Chpt 40 - Our final chance for Wishes

Ok....so it was the final morning of our final full day at WDW. I’m sure many of you never believed this day would come.....and I will completely understand if you need to take a moment to compose yourselves. However, even though you may be able to see the light at the end of the tunnel.....it ain’t over yet. If you’ll recall, I was on chapter 15 by the time I finished up our first full day at WDW. I’m not saying…I’m just saying.

Just like on the previous day, we abandoned our carefully laid plans and decided to head to Epcot for the morning and then hop over to MK for the rest of the day....even though Tinkershell’s non-negotiable itinerary clearly showed us that the entire day was supposed to be at MK. Our kids were beginning to wonder if their parents had been abducted and replaced with spontaneous alien replicates. So what had gotten into us? Honestly, I don’t know. Ever since Pal Mickey’s disappearance, we’d been like a ship without a rudder. I guess he was our rock. It could be that Pal Mickey’s disappearance had taught us to live life to its fullest.......because you never knew which day would be your last. Or, maybe we just realized how much we had paid for the park hopper option on our tickets and were bound and determined to get our money's worth. In one scenario, we are wise and reflective.....and in the other were short-sighted and cheap. So you be the judge. But judge wisely....because you’ve been given a tremendous responsibility. In any event, as soon as we announced our decision to head for Epcot, the non-negotiable itinerary tendered its resignation and stormed out of the room in a huff. Don’t worry.....it’ll be back. That was like the third time it had quit in the last two days.

Anyway, as we exited the bus at Epcot, we were confronted with another early morning EMH. Nuts! See, this is why we don’t wing-it......because we stink at it. If only I had invested in that copy of “Winging it for dummies” when I had the chance. At the last minute, Pal Mickey had slipped it out of the shopping cart and replace it with “Picking up redheads for dummies”. Hmmmmm.....I wonder if that book came with a money back guarantee? I know one thing for sure, he never read the chapter on avoiding restraining orders.

Yup....we finally ran out of tie-dye mickeys

Since the park was already teeming with people, we knew there was no hope of riding Soarin’ in the stand-by line. Instead, Tinkershell and the kids were going to head for Mission Space while I hustled over to Soarin' for a set of fastpasses....for I am.....still.....the designated fastpass specialist. I briefly considered asking Tinkershell if she would be the designated fastpass specialist....since it was our last day, but she is what doctors call directionally challenged. I was afraid that we would point her in the direction of the Soarin' fastpass machines.....and she'd end up somewhere in the middle of Universal Studios Orlando.

At Mission Space, we all rode the green chicken-baby version....and I can’t remember why. It could be that the line for the orange version was ginormous and stretched out over the horizon......or possibly we wanted to make this into a special family bonding experience, akin to joining hands and singing Kumbaya around a roaring campfire.....or maybe....just maybe....Gary Sinise had visited me in a dream and warned me that something horrible was going to happen on the orange version that day. I just don't recall. In any event, we all rode the green. Afterwards, DS Buddy and I played Space Race in the big post-show area of Mission Space. You know, the one where you’re racing against another team to try to fix your ship. Unfortunately, we were placed on Team Triton....which turned out to be the biggest collection of bumbling losers that has ever graced the red planet....and we got spanked pretty good. To be honest, it could have been my fault. Pal Mickey used to be my wing man when I was collecting the different items....and I stunk without him.

After Mission Space, we wanted to get fastpasses for Test track...but we had about 12 minutes to burn before we were eligible to get another set. I volunteered to wait by the machines while the rest of the family went to Innoventions.....because I'm not a huge Innoventions fan....and believe me, that's an understatement. Now I realize that 12 minutes doesn't seem like a very long time.....but I swear to you there was something seriously wrong with the clock by Test Track. So the question is......why would Epcot rig their park clocks to run slow just to irritate me? Don’t ask me......I’m just the helpless victim. Anyway, after the Epcot version of "12 minutes"....which was probably closer to 30 minutes if you ask me.....I got into the shortest line available at the Test Track fastpass machines.....which immediately turned into the longest line.....because that’s my lot in life. When it was finally my turn.....I reached into my trusty fannypack (thaaaaaat’s right, I said fanny pack.......and I can’t believe you are still snickering at that after all these months) and pulled out three cards. Wait a tick.......three cards? I’m no math whiz.....but I’m fairly positive that I counted four members in our family...and three does not equal four....not even if you're using the new math that they’re teaching our kids these days. That’s when I remembered that Tinkershell had taken her card so that she could go get DS Buddy a soda from the refreshment cart. Nuts! That's why I treat those cards like I'm Kirstie Allie and they're the last slice of Jenny Craig triple chocolate cheesecake. Anyway, I had to high-tail it over to Innoventions to get the missing card.....and then high-tail it back to Test Track....and that about filled my high-tailing it qouta for the day.

With four fresh Test Track fastpasses safely in hand, I picked up the family at Innoventions and we all headed over to Soarin'. The last time we had been here, I had needed to use the restroom....and I took Pal Mickey in with me....because he was clutching his santa pants and hopping back and forth from one foot to the other. Inside, he explained that he didn't have to go.....he was just jumping around because he had a bug up his pant leg. Anyway, I didn’t want to place him on the floor....for obvious sanitary reasons.....so I had tucked him under my arm. Apparently, I squeezed his tummy a little too hard as I stepped up to the urinal.....because all of a sudden he started to give one of his multiple choice quizzes. So now I’m standing up to a wall of urinals with a bunch of strangers and Pal Mickey is asking me to squeeze his left hand if I think the answer is Snow White....or his right hand if I think it’s Sleeping Beauty. I tried to shush Pal Mickey....because this was hardly the proper venue for a multiple choice test involving Disney princesses....but once he started on a quiz he just couldn’t stop. There are many unwritten rules in life.....and near the top of the list for guys is the rule that there is to be no unnecessary chatter at the urinal. You might be allowed to speak if someone’s life hung in the balance....like if you noticed a large concrete block teetering above your neighbor’s head....but that’s about it......and even then you're dealing in a gray area. What could I do? I just stood there and finished my business in horrified silence.....although I'm almost positive I heard somebody whisper "try Sleeping Beauty" from one of the stalls.

Next up: Chpt 41 - Black Forest Cake for lunch.

 

[hucifer]

Was it an easy morning? No....it was hard......especially when we woke up to see Pal Mickey’s empty little dresser drawer.

I still can't believe you made him sleep in a drawer. I'm beginning to think he ran away to find a family who cosleeps.

As we strolled up Main Street, we noticed places like Main Street Confectionery...and remembered the time that we had eaten these large mickey shaped sugar cookies covered w/ white chocolate....and Pal Mickey had refused to even look at us for 2 hours...let alone talk to us.

Hang on to those precious memories...because they're all you've got now.

We also passed by the Harmony Barber Shop where we had taken Pal Mickey for his first haircut....only to be turned away at the door because they said his synthetic fur would clog up their clippers. They did still give him a certificate though....but we passed on the complimentary mickey ears.....because in Pal Mickey's case that would have been redundant.

If Mickey wore Mickey ears, wouldn't that paradox create some major blip in the space-time continuum, and the earth implode as a result? I shudder to think of what else might happen...like cats and dogs sleeping together.

I used to wonder what he was thinking...and had been tempted on more than one occasion to offer him a penny for his thoughts. But I never did....because I was afraid I wouldn’t get my money’s worth.

I echo my sentiments made about the whole drawer-sleeping arrangement.

not in some retirement home for plush inter-active toys where every Wednesday was meatloaf day....and you had to wait around for hours for some uncaring orderly with cold hands to come change your batteries.

Is there any chance Mickey sensed that this scenario was in his future? It may point to further clues that he left on his own.

Ariel's Grotto......of disappointment

That's goes without saying. I was stuck in that line once and I swore I'd never do it again.

 

[hucifer]

With Pal Mickey....we were never comfortable visiting the grotto because we were afraid he would lovingly stroke Ariel’s tail as well.....but to a much creepier effect.

Well, she IS a redhead. He isn't made of stone, ya know.

My only chance now was to distract Tinkershell until we had safely passed by the teacups....so I tried to convince her that a cloud formation looked just like Jon and Kate playing tug-of-war over a giant bag of money.

That would certainly get MY attention.

I was in rare form that day....and soon our cheeks started to ripple and our eyeballs sucked back in our head like Tom Hanks leaving the earth’s atmosphere in Apollo 13.

So what does this look like to the folks in line? Are the three of you nothing but a colorful blur of rainbow shirts?

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

Hucifer is back! I find it very entertaining that you're scrambling to catch up and I just posted another chapter. Does life get any better than this? I submit that it does not.

 

[hucifer]

we freshened up in the room and then headed for Epcot for our 5:45 pm ADR at Le Cellier....which I believe is french for “The Cellier”

Just when I thought you couldn't possibly impress me anymore, you go ahead and type that.

Nemo.....and his tiny shriveled fin....which I’m a little surprised they couldn’t fix.....what with all the advancements of modern medicine.

They can put a man on the moon...but they can't fix a shriveled fish fin.

When she was about 3 years old, we were over at a friends house who happened to be making lamb. Now I realize that most kids love lambs......just not necessarily on a platter with a nice mint sauce. Anyway, we gave her a little tasty-bite on her plate....and had barely turned away when we heard...”more sheep please.”

As a vegetarian, this horrifies me.

Tinkershell ordered the filet with mushrooms...and I had the herb-encrusted prime rib. Both were delicious.....although mine was better by default.....because it wasn’t smothered in a vile spore-bearing fungus that you find growing in damp dark places.

Even as a vegetarian, I detest those slimy little boogers too.

We had just crossed over the bridge to France, when we started to see people standing in a giant line. Suckers! If they were smart like us.....they'd be holding reserved seating tickets...instead of bringing up the rear of the world's longest conga line of losers. We were still patting ourselves on the back when we arrived at the theater entrance... and were informed that the line we had just passed was for the reserved seating ticket holders. So we took the walk of shame all the way back to end of the line.....grabbed the hips of the loser ahead of us....and started to conga. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, kick. Shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, kick.

Been there, done that. If you had read my first trip report you would know that the same thing happened to us at Chef Mickey's.

 

[hucifer]

Hucifer is back! I find it very entertaining that you're scrambling to catch up and I just posted another chapter. Does life get any better than this? I submit that it does not.

Yeah, I'm scrambling. I see you've been a very busy boy.

And my trip was AMAZING. Lots of good stuff to write about...let's see if I have the time to write it.

 

[hucifer]

Ever since Pal Mickey’s disappearance, we’d been like a ship without a rudder. I guess he was our rock. It could be that Pal Mickey’s disappearance had taught us to live life to its fullest.......because you never knew which day would be your last. Or, maybe we just realized how much we had paid for the park hopper option on our tickets and were bound and determined to get our money's worth. In one scenario, we are wise and reflective.....and in the other were short-sighted and cheap. So you be the judge.

First of all, you're mixing metaphors all over the place and I cannot keep track of your imagery. B), I'm glad your recent tragedy is teaching you a thing or two about appreciating life's pleasures. And third...never mind, too easy.

In any event, as soon as we announced our decision to head for Epcot, the non-negotiable itinerary tendered its resignation and stormed out of the room in a huff. Don’t worry.....it’ll be back. That was like the third time it had quit in the last two days.

See, this is where I relate with the itinerary. It wasn't created in a few days, my friend. That thing was carefully crafted and sculpted and tweaked for weeks and weeks, maybe months. It was a living, breathing document until Tinkershell finally did the painstaking thing of stamping "FINAL" on it and carving it into stone. It's a long, laborious process. The final itinerary is to be respected and obeyed. And so it was written.

Anyway, as we exited the bus at Epcot, we were confronted with another early morning EMH. Nuts! See, this is why we don’t wing-it......because we stink at it. If only I had invested in that copy of “Winging it for dummies” when I had the chance.

Which only further stresses my point that the itinerary is to be respected and obeyed.

Unfortunately, we were placed on Team Triton....which turned out to be the biggest collection of bumbling losers that has ever graced the red planet....and we got spanked pretty good. To be honest, it could have been my fault. Pal Mickey used to be my wing man when I was collecting the different items....and I stunk without him.

Sniff...is that a Top Gun reference I'm smelling?

I got into the shortest line available at the Test Track fastpass machines.....which immediately turned into the longest line.....because that’s my lot in life.

We must be cut from the same cloth, because this crap happened to me a LOT this last trip.

Wait a tick.......three cards? I’m no math whiz.....but I’m fairly positive that I counted four members in our family...and three does not equal four....not even if you're using the new math that they’re teaching our kids these days.

All hail New Math.

Anyway, I had to high-tail it over to Innoventions to get the missing card.....and then high-tail it back to Test Track....and that about filled my high-tailing it qouta for the day.

And it isn't even lunch yet.

So now I’m standing up to a wall of urinals with a bunch of strangers and Pal Mickey is asking me to squeeze his left hand if I think the answer is Snow White....or his right hand if I think it’s Sleeping Beauty. I tried to shush Pal Mickey....because this was hardly the proper venue for a multiple choice test involving Disney princesses....but once he started on a quiz he just couldn’t stop. There are many unwritten rules in life.....and near the top of the list for guys is the rule that there is to be no unnecessary chatter at the urinal. You might be allowed to speak if someone’s life hung in the balance....like if you noticed a large concrete block teetering above your neighbor’s head....but that’s about it......and even then you're dealing in a gray area.

You guys have weird urinal rules. If I saw a precariously dangling safe over the next chick's stall, and I would SO tell her.

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

Yes, he did. In both years of his life.

Ok....I'll grant you, two years doesn't seem like much time to build up a deep love of Christmas lights.....but around our house they're up a lot longer than most....so he kind of got a crash course. Plus, I think it may have been part of his programming.

This is both wildly hilarious and incredibly depressing at the same time.

Yeah....well.....don't forget that I'm only relaying things as the actually happened. It's not like I am at liberty to change the facts.....or embellish things in any way.

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

I still can't believe you made him sleep in a drawer. I'm beginning to think he ran away to find a family who cosleeps..

I didn't want to make him sleep in a drawer.....but he snored like a bugger......so when it got really bad, we'd just close it up. It was a perfectly logical solution to a complex problem. Would it have been easier if he weren't claustrophobic? Perhaps....but that was a price I was willing to pay.

If Mickey wore Mickey ears, wouldn't that paradox create some major blip in the space-time continuum, and the earth implode as a result? I shudder to think of what else might happen...like cats and dogs sleeping together..

We didn't even consider all of that....although I think you make some valid assumptions. We were just stumped by the logistics of it.

Is there any chance Mickey sensed that this scenario was in his future? It may point to further clues that he left on his own..

I can't be sure.....but I think that Pal Mickey was comfortable with the thoughts of his own mortality. Lets face it, they don't build things like they used to. In any event, I'm sure he would have at least left a note.

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

Well, she IS a redhead. He isn't made of stone, ya know.

Well.....we were mostly just worried about Ariel. Although, Pal Mickey might have more self-control if she dressed a little more conservatively.

So what does this look like to the folks in line? Are the three of you nothing but a colorful blur of rainbow shirts?

I've got a feeling it can't be pretty. All of those colors probably make more people sick than Mission Space.

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

Just when I thought you couldn't possibly impress me anymore, you go ahead and type that.

Can you believe that was just a guess? That Hooked on Phonics tape has almost paid for itself.

As a vegetarian, this horrifies me..

I should have included a vegetarian disclaimer.

Even as a vegetarian, I detest those slimy little boogers too..

A vegetarian that hates mushrooms. This concept fascinates me for some reason. I knew there was something inherently evil about mushrooms.

Been there, done that. If you had read my first trip report you would know that the same thing happened to us at Chef Mickey's.

That sounded like a dare to me.....so I have in fact tracked down your first TR.....since you refuse to provide me with a handy hyperlink. Which leads me to my next question. Why hasn't anybody ever volunteered to set up neat little chapter links in my TR like Loubon did for you? Now I feel totally inferior.

 

[Peter Panic Attack]

First of all, you're mixing metaphors all over the place and I cannot keep track of your imagery. B), I'm glad your recent tragedy is teaching you a thing or two about appreciating life's pleasures. And third...never mind, too easy..

First of all, I will see your mixed metephors comment....and raise you the space-time continuum reference that you made a couple of posts ago. Also (or B), I take great pride in learning nothing anymore....because a leopard can't change his stripes.....and lastly, I can't believe you judged me as short-sighted and cheap.

See, this is where I relate with the itinerary. It wasn't created in a few days, my friend. That thing was carefully crafted and sculpted and tweaked for weeks and weeks, maybe months. It was a living, breathing document until Tinkershell finally did the painstaking thing of stamping "FINAL" on it and carving it into stone. It's a long, laborious process. The final itinerary is to be respected and obeyed. And so it was written..

Believe me....I have seen the light....for I have witnessed first hand the tribulation that results from forsaking the itinerary. Never again, will I stray from the wise direction of careful planning....probably.

Sniff...is that a Top Gun reference I'm smelling?.

Any similarities between parts of this TR and Top Gun are purely coincidental.....especially the parts where I call Pal Mickey "Goose" and he refers to me as "Maverick".

We must be cut from the same cloth, because this crap happened to me a LOT this last trip. .

And we look forward to hearing all about it in your upcoming TR.

You guys have weird urinal rules. If I saw a precariously dangling safe over the next chick's stall, and I would SO tell her.

Don't blame me.....I didn't write the unwritten rule. Also, with what you already know about guys.....is any of this really that suprising?

 

[erinch]

okay, you and Hucifer totally have to quit your tea party thing because you are wasting all your creative juices on one liners, and the rest of us are starting to feel left out. Since you still have probably 432 chapters left to go, we think you should get to it.