A Close Call
Martín and I went to Disneyland yesterday. I bought us annual passes when we went for his birthday last November, and we haven't made use of them at all, which is a travesty in terms of value. So, I suggested we go on April 20th, and not just because it's Hitler's birthday. Also, because of Columbine.
That's not true.
Anyway, we went to Disneyland, and I took a customary lot of pictures, and as I was sorting through them late last night, I found this one that appears below, which I took while waiting for Martín to purchase a beverage. They were painting the Mark Twain riverboat to my right. Just a bunch of guys in painting attire painting the boat. I entitled that tableau "Cessation of the Suspension of Disbelief." It was one of quite a few incidents that befell us that made Martín cringe. They're supposed to paint the boats at night, according to Martín. And if they're going to do that sort of maintenance work out in the opening, shouldn't the painters all be dressed like Mark Twain or something?