The NYT speculates on what it means to operate "an international symbol of American commerce" (i.e., a Disney Park) in the era of Code Orange hysteria. Hell, if higher alerts mean shorter lines, I know where I'm going when we hit Code Red.
Having security guards search through visitors' belongings at the entrance to his beloved park could not have been part of Walt Disney's idea of a "big, big beautiful tomorrow" when he opened Disneyland in 1955. But ever since the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks, that's become as much a part of the Disney experience as standing in line for the Pirates of the Caribbean. And after Tom Ridge decreed a heightened state of alert (Code Orange) last week, Disney's security was ratcheted up even further…
Inside the park, mentioning terrorism seems mean, and almost impolite, in a world so determinedly dedicated to innocent escapism and perfect order. One of the attendants at the entrance to the Haunted Mansion gave me a blank stare when I asked about the real-life horrors possibly lurking behind that Code Orange. "I thought the air was cleaner now, and that we didn't have to worry about that ozone stuff anymore," he said.
An utterly unscientific poll of 11 groups of visitors showed that all but two were aware of the federal government's call for stepped-up vigilance, although not everyone got the colors straight. The two families that had missed the news were Japanese. "Should we go home now?" one man inquired.
