Sunday, June 16, 2013

the cause of my poverty

Three or four years after my grandfather immigrated to the US, he was hired on as 2nd Vice Treasurer of an up and coming, sparsely known, amusement park. The genius behind the idea came from a pair of brothers who, years earlier, established a production company together. With the new venture, my grandfather was hired to help oversee the finances of it all.

Before the gates opened to the public, my 4 year old aunt tested rides that throughout the following decades would be enjoyed by millions upon millions of children, young and old.

But it was a family run company, my grandfather reasoned. He would never advance further than his current position, he assumed. So a few years after the launch and success of the park, he quit - thus squelching any opportunity for his posterity to become moguls in the Disney empire.

It also means that we have to pay the same astronomically priced entrance fee as every other peasant wanting to enter the world of magic and adventure.

Disney plays a part in our family's history though, and as such, we have an obligation to it. After all, some of my grandfather's ashes weren't scattered in the flower beds at the entrance of California's Disneyland by my aunt and mom for nothing.

So, with that obligation in mind, I implored a friend who was in town for the weekend to join me at the happiest place on earth. (Otherwise known as Disneyland Paris).

Although, truth be told... EuroDisney ain't all that.

1 comment:

Patti said...

That was a well told story. You built it up perfectly so that when I realized it was Disney your grandfather walked away from there was a little gasp on this side of the computer. Oh my.