Addison Road

I went to High School. Actually, I went to several High Schools. Hell, I went to almost every High School in the Thousand Oaks, Conejo/Simi Valley area. I studied such important subjects as “Hide Behind the Dumpster and Smoke Cigarettes” and “Scuba”. (No joke. Thousand Oaks High had a scuba program. Damn rich white kids…) I went to college. I promptly dropped out after a few semesters of Criminal Law and Judiciary Methodology - but I went to college. Eventually, I found my way through the doors of Video Symphony, where I became a “Certified” (Which actually means “Functionally Retarded”) film and video editor.

Now I work at a theme park. It’s only on weekends, and part-time between my other jobs. But I’ve been running a steadicam and editing the pre-show material for Universal Studios Hollywood’s “Fear Factor Live” stage show for two summers now. I have learned many valuable things at this job. But the most valuable thing I have learned is this:

Theme parks make people stupid.

Like, dumb-as-a-sack-of-wet-biscuits-stupid. For the first few months, I was actually convinced that guests were escorted to a booth after entering the park where they would have a partial (or complete) frontal lobotomy performed with a rusty spoon. I’m sure each and every day, every one of of us witnesses something that makes us question the intelligence of the human condition. But when you work at a theme park, my friends, your opinion of the common man goes crashing into the abyss.

After 2 years, I have compiled a few notes on this place:

1. It costs between $45.00 and $59.00 to enter Universal Studios Hollywood. For a family of four, that’s about $200.00, not counting the $7.00 Churros, of which each member of your family is contractually obligated to eat at least 3. For this kind of money, you could take your family to every museum in Los Angeles, and still get cheap seats at the Hollywood Bowl.

2. Universal Studios Hollywood, calls itself a “theme park”. I still haven’t figured out what particular “theme” it subscribes to. I am open to suggestions.

3. Guests have no sense of space. I have performed numerous tests wherein I walk in a straight line, through a lightly populated area of the park, my eyes focused on my destination. In roughly 90% of these tests, I have been stopped in my tracks my someone who is aimlessly stumbling in front of me. Yesterday, I was punched in the nuts by a 7-year old - no joke. Skipping and swinging his fisted little paws wildly, I tried to avoid him completely. But he zeroed in on my baby maker, and squarely rang my bell. For a split second, I considered fighting him. Not his parents, but HIM. OK, you got me - I considered it for about 20 minutes…but eventually realized that he may be able to kick my ass.

4. Considering what people wear to the park, apparently, the day your family decides to visit Universal Studios Hollywood is the same day you’re: a) doing laundry, b) colorblind, c) devoid of any sense of style/class/social acceptance and/or ridicule, or d) suffering from inoperable brain damage. Men: Fanny packs do not work when you’re so overweight they ride above your nipples. In fact, they don’t really work at all. Neither do Speedos. (100% not kidding) Ladies: 7-inch heels are fine for a night out on the town at a “classy” restaurant, or maybe your bi-weekly porno shoot, but they are NOT OK in a theme park. If you don’t break your legs getting on and off the escalator, you will trip and fall under the Studio Tour Tram and be crushed by one of it’s 10-ton cars. (Or so we hope.) Also, leave the Wet Seal t-shirts at home. This is a family place. (See #1) Your cut-off t-shirt bearing a picture of a beaver and text that reads, “Eat My Beaver” pleases no one. If they could read, I’m sure beavers themselves wouldn’t care for it. Not even the overweight fanny-pack guy cares about you. He’s too busy eating his Churros.

5. Universal Studios Hollywood is one of only a few theme parks in Los Angeles that serve alcohol. Actually, guests are encouraged to drink heavily. (Some might argue it’s the only way to deal with the place…) At every turn, there is a cart offering some overpriced beer, delivered in a shatter-proof, re-sealable plastic container. “Go ahead - drink up, Johnny! The Mummy ride runs BACKWARDS! When we projectile vomit, it will be on the back of some dude’s head! Awesome! Whooo!!! Let’s hit the Jurrasic Park ride! We’re so hammered, we’ll get our pictures taken on the Big Drop, while we’re shotgunning our Coors Lights!” Actually, what will happen is you will smash your front teeth out when you get to the bottom. Those plastic bottles are strong enough to stop a bus. Your teeth are not that strong. Drink up!

That’s it. Rant over…