Woah. In the early days, Disneyland looked like every other desolate, depressive, heat scorched, hellscape of a County Fair, except, perhaps, that the carnies' pants had more pleats, and fewer suspicious stains.
My last visit to The Magic Kingdom was on my birthday in 1967. I was refused admission because I did not meet the Happiest Place On Earth's standards of dress.
I wore jeans with a hole in them at the knee, and worse, long hair.
My only visit to the Magic Kingdom was in 1981. Had a medium format camera and was sent on assignment to grab publication-quality shots suitable for advertising. I was paid well but felt depressed for days afterward. Was, however, impressed with Disney's crowd control methods. Haven't returned.
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He's hiding the suspicious stains in his pleats!
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My last visit to The Magic Kingdom was on my birthday in 1967. I was refused admission because I did not meet the Happiest Place On Earth's standards of dress.
I wore jeans with a hole in them at the knee, and worse, long hair.
As I often say, it was a time of great madness.
Wow. Feel the fun.
My only visit to the Magic Kingdom was in 1981. Had a medium format camera and was sent on assignment to grab publication-quality shots suitable for advertising. I was paid well but felt depressed for days afterward. Was, however, impressed with Disney's crowd control methods. Haven't returned.
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