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Stoney Baloney | A Narrated Cannabis Column

Sep 12, 2022

If you missed going to Disneyland as a kid, there’s a part of you that feels like you got gypped. Maybe your parents provided a solid upbringing, but if you never felt those nervous butterflies before crossing the threshold into the Imaginarium where animation blends with real life, you may be more likely to compensate with unhealthy methods of coping in adulthood.

Let’s be real.

There just is no more imperative bucket list item for a youth. I mean, even if your only highlight was getting spit-farted on by Donald Duck, at least you had context to quell your curiosity. Because when your peers came back to school from summer break wearing mouse ears with their name stitched on the back, it meant that while you were mowing the lawn, they were at mecca, peering into a kaleidoscope of make believe where each attraction is a highly detailed spectacle designed especially for you.  

This is the happiest place on earth. 

Until nap time, that is. 

Because happiness isn’t a place, it’s an energy. And it’s not easy to keep the vibe upbeat when your kid is a huge mermaid fan and the only place to see Ariel is in her grotto which is packed, and the newness of the theme park is wearing off while the patience turns to tears thanks to uncomfortable heat and lengthy lines. 

By the way, when are they going to create a land of make believe where each segment is a highly detailed spectacle, hyper-designed especially for adults who missed Disneyland?

Oh wait, they already have that. It’s called Las Vegas. Except you get strippers, not cartoon characters. 

However, they might be named Bambi.