It's Sunday, which means it's time to post a few slides that are, for whatever reason, not "essential viewing". In today's case, the quality of the pictures is OK, it's just that they are among the three quadrillion images of the Mark Twain that I have shared on GDB.
There she goes (I guess the Mark Twain is a "she"; hey, I don't judge), churning up the greenish water of the Rivers of America. It looks like one river, but trust me, it's actually a bunch. The day is bright and sunshiny, and Frontierland is charmingly barren in that specific "1956" way. A few folks walk the wide paths on Tom Sawyer Island, which was newly-opened, and a Keel Boat leads the way for the Twain.
I don't think you see areas of flowers along the shore anymore… that real estate is needed for the hordes that want to watch "Fantasmic!". I always like seeing the Disneyland Band in their dark blue uniforms (they didn't use those for very long), and here they are, holding court at the bow of the sternwheeler.
Major-
ReplyDeleteAll those empty white chairs sitting along the top deck of the Mark Twain are certainly beckoning me to "climb aboard". I only wish I could trample through some lovely flower beds just so I can secure a choice seat for myself.
And those blue uniforms - they are the best.
Thanks, Major.
Nanook, I would love to do the same thing, though part of the thrill would be seeing Disneyland in the 1950's! I wonder why they phased out those blue uniforms? Maybe the red and white versions were just considered more "eye popping".
ReplyDeleteMajor-
ReplyDeleteYou and me, both. The sad part is I was there in the 1950's - starting in 1956 (okay - I was five), but still. I made many subsequent visits in the 1950's, so I'm gonna chalk it up to 'youthful-youth' and not realizing just how incredible and unique an experience Walt created, and there I was to experience in its early days.
Somewhere in the folks house is some 8mm footage of yours truly riding aboard a Conestoga Wagon, etc. But if it wasn't for that record, I'm afraid the actual record is buried too far down in the brain to remember it as an actual experience - and yet I was there-!