Marceline (|Pop. 2,558 )

Driving home from South Dakota, I was in a wistful, bittersweet mood.  Nothing much had changed in the relationship department, his mantra being ‘a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.”  Like Frankie said, “I did it my way.” 

Frankly, the extreme poverty and desperation of the reservation gets to me.  They don’t call it the ‘Badlands’ for nothing.  I understand and appreciate Dr Hawk’s decision, but I still don’t want to live there.   

Still, it was a golden October afternoon as we took the blue roads back home. I have always been a ‘journey is the reward’ kinda guy and would much rather trade rural scenery for the efficiency of the interstate system.  With The Beatles White Album in the CD player and my best girl by my side, we headed south. 

“You want to go to Marceline?” I asked Missy.  “It’s a little town where Walt Disney used to live.”  Missy knows all about Disney of course, she was Princess Jasmine for Halloween several years in a row, although now she seems to be a Hannah Montana fan.

She expresses that she is up for a detour and hopes they have a Sonic.

From ‘Celebrating Technostalgia, by Joe Fowler: 

 Go to Disneyland in California -- or to the Magic Kingdom at Disney World in Florida, or Disney Tokyo, or EuroDisney outside Paris -- and you will find that there is only one entrance: under the station of the old-fashioned steam railroad, through a town square, and down the Main Street of a nostalgic, gingerbreaded, nineteenth-century American town. The town is lavish in its detailing: the names of the lawyers and accountants in gilt lettering on the second-story windows, the horse-drawn trolley down the middle of the street, the ice-cream parlor with the ceiling fans turning overhead. The town could be straight out of The Music Man, or Oklahoma -- or it could be Marceline, Missouri, the little town by the railroad where Walt spent his boyhood, finally made perfect. 

And it really was perfect.  Pretty black and white cows turn their heads to watch as you head into town.  Farmers, cutting down the last of the corn stalks, wave from their John Deers.  Pretty little houses, with pretty little gardens, white churches with steeples. Darling little houses are for sale for under $100k. Dads are tossing the ball to their sons in the front yard or firing up the BBQ grill.  Old folks are sitting out on the porch, maybe sipping lemonade. 

You would never find the frozen body of an Indian who has passed out drunk in the snow in Marceline. (a tragically regular occurrence on the rez) In fact you wouldn’t find any Indians at all.  Wiki reports that Marceline’s ethnic makeup is 98.7% white.      

Downtown is adorable.  Cute shops all decorated for fall with pumpkins and scarecrows, cute restaurants, a cute movie theaters. (even the orchestra is beautiful) Hey look, there is a statue of Mickey.

Shop windows have been handpainted, urging the Marceline Tigers to Victory.  Missy and I stroll down the street and people stop to speak to us and I truly believe they were real people, not automotrons. We enjoy an ice cream soda, not from Sonic. 

“Would you like to live in a small town like this? You could go to Walt Disney Elementary school.” I ask her.  Wisely, she wonders if they have internet access and cable TV.  I indulge in a daydream of my name in gold script on one of the shop windows, because I am not so naive that I figure no one in town has any psych problems. I’ll plant a garden and coach Little League and go to bed early. 

It would be good to get out of KC which is becoming the murder capital of the world because of the crack wars.  And everyone says it is cheaper to live in the country.

But it is time to head back to reality.  I remind myself that while Walt was a genius, Disney is a giant corporation that ruthlessly watches the bottom line and will go after a Grandmother who has embroidered Donald Duck on a tea towel.  A one day ticket to Disneyland is now $71 and that is before the $3.00 Coke and the $7.99 hamburger.

On the road out if town, I notice the Outback tavern, rusted pickups parked outside.Is this the dark side of Marceline…the other side of the tracks?.  No,  even the badboy bar is still  pretty cute.

 

Comments

[oneken]

you've got a lot of heart my friend, and that was a courageous and thoughtful journey you undertook. friends and family who love you are made proud by this effort.

hang out your shingle in marceline? mmm, not sure about that one --altho you can bet it's a seething mess beneath the tidy surface of picket whites and harvest golds!

[nick]

so wait.. he's never coming home?

[jeff]

sending hugs your way

[rob2]

Sorry, JJ. I was hoping for more. Maybe with a little time one or the other of you will decide you belong together no matter what, or where. Hey, you could be the Pecan Festival Princess! Anyhow, maybe don't keep too much company just yet with that cute boy Tyler . . .

[mark]

we gays invaded disneyland last weekend for gay days. You have to join us next year.

sorry about Ray staying.

[oneken]

4 yer dad...behind the flowers

video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-5052096054843836584

[mary e]

I'm sorry Justin about the way things turned out. You do have a lot of heart and courage - i'd be under the bed, in the back bedroom curled up in a fetal position if i were in your situation. Just remember two things, Sting's words of wisdom in if you love someone... and Ms. Elizabeth Zimmerman's exhortation to knit on with confidence through whatever crisis occurs.... not exact quote but pretty close. I'll keep all ya'll in my prayers.