When Mickey Mouse Ruled The Night-The Trials And Tribulations Of Sand-Bagger Johnson-Part 8

When Mickey Mouse Ruled The Night-The Trials And Tribulations Of Sand-Bagger Johnson-Part 8 

 

Talking to no one in particular as the golf foursome in the van heading down to Mickey’s land, down to the old-time Orlando Disney courses, Palm and Magnolia (he forgot the order in which they would be played just then in any case one in the morning and one in the afternoon since he was hot on the trail of memory lane), he mentioned that he had had dream that night about a Mouse-ateer, a girl not Annette something, the dark haired one [Jerry Jeff the driver of the van on this six rounds in four days tour of Central Florida, okay, okay Central Orlando if there is such a place shouted out “Fuinicello.”] “Yeah, that’s right. Not her though the skinny kind of still a stick one with brown hair Melody, Melody Darling I think.” Roger the Dodger sitting in the front seat passenger side acting as navigator for the tour since he was the only one with a Smartphone wit GPS connectivity chortled out “Melody Dowling, you might have been thinking she was your darling in that silly dream but tell us about it, tell us about your chaste childhood desire to get into her pants if you ever found yourself in Mickey’s world. I had a crush on her too since I figured I had no chance with Annette and this Melody was really a stick until a couple of years later she filled out, filled out quite nicely. You know she wound up doing a few porn films when she got older, before she feel off the radar, you know giving guys a blow job on screen trading in on her Mickey days when she and the guys got older and could articulate why the female Mouse-eteers were distracting us so when we tuned in to the Walt Disney Hour every Sunday night show. Had quite a following including me when she went porn, probably somebody’s nice old grandmother now.”  

“Guys, at six in the morning I don’t want to hear about girl crushes, porno queens or kindly grandmothers, just keep quiet until we get to the clubhouse so I can get a few minutes shut-eye” murmured Earl the Pearl, the last up, last out guy in the group. “Hell I grew up in L.A. and went down to Anaheim to check things out and the average Mouse-eteer girl usher was hotter than any of those bimbos you saw on television and ready to go too if you approached them right but let me sleep and I will fill you in some other time”

Finally getting a chance to have his say Sand-Bagger said “Hey, I don’t want to hear about what happened to Melody later, half of the child stars in Hollywood wound up worse than being porno stars and I don’t want to hear about hot tour guides either. What I had my dream about, after fixating on Melody for a bit was how much the Disney shows, and others like them helped create our little world when we were say ten to twelve, maybe thirteen the times when we were clueless about why we had all these funny feelings about girls which we hadn’t had before and which gave us a little knot every time we saw Annette, Melody all those girls that we wanted to be our girlfriends especially after Elvis came along and we didn’t mean a thing to the real girls that we had to deal with (or not deal with which is perhaps a better way to put it).”

“How we longed for Sunday night to come by and avoid the dread of Monday morning for an hour, hour and one half with our little secret television pleasures. You know somebody could, maybe already has, write a book about that particular time, that “golden age” time when things were tough, tough around our house [Roger: ours’ too.] but come Sunday night, poverty, shyness, physical discomfort, acne, lack of coolness, all that stuff we worried about the rest of the long week kind of took a holiday, and you know I don’t think since that time I can’t remember having that cocoon around me like that when I needed it, had to face the world straight up ever since. I’ll bet I could…..”

Just then Jerry Jeff stopped the van in front of the security outpost to “sign in” in Disney world. Everybody catch the irony when Sand-Bagger morosely stated, “See what I mean signing into a damn gold course down in Mickeys’ land. Was that Walt’s ultimate dream for us.”

But enough of philosophizing for we need to get to Casey’s summary before he too begs for a few minutes of quiet to nod off. Palm course results (meaning morning round results-meaning better of the two course that day results): Earl apparently after having had that quiet time to nod off took the vaunted putting honors-three bucks. Swept Roger front, back and all-six bucks, took Jerry Jeff front and all, two buck. A “winning day” but Sand-Bagger now fully recovered from the shock of Melody’s fate wondered, wondered to himself, what she looked like with her clothes off back then in her porn days when she “played the flute” as the guys in the old neighborhood used to call giving a guy oral sex.