The Show Must Go On

This story epitomizes the Disney "work ethic" or whatever you want to call it.

 

As many of you know, Walt Disney World has a thing for parades, with an afternoon parade and an evening parade (usually). Occasionally they get 'rained out' and the fancy floats get replaced by the cool automobiles from Main Street (for Magic Kingdom parades, not sure about the parades at Animal Kingdom and Hollywood Studios), with the characters riding along the vehicles, instead of the floats.

 

This is what happens when the storm hits, mid-parade:

 

I got to the park just before 3 p.m. and my drive down had been sunny and pleasant. The parade stepped off on Main Street under fairly blue skies, but in an instant everything changed. A huge storm cloud blew over top of us so quickly that Mickey and Minnie got by me in Town Square without a drop, but by Pinocchio's float -- the next one -- a heavy rain had started.

Disney equips characters with clear plastic umbrellas and Snow White's poor Prince struggled mightily to get one open for his princess. To her credit -- as did all the performers -- Snow White carried on smiling, singing and dancing.

But things were getting worse quickly. The female dancers' hair was already sticking to the sides of their faces. Thunder was starting to crackle. I assumed floats would stop coming out of the gate, but they all came out. Aladdin, umbrella-less, was sporting a very soggy turban. Mary Poppins, of course, has her own umbrella, and Bert was cheerful as ever. Alice and the Mad Hatter even had a little horseplay as she was too short to effectively hold an umbrella over his gigantic hat.

It was a deluge by the time the Fairy Godmother and three royal couples arrived. Fairy Godmother seemed flustered -- and who could blame her? Her hood was being blown off by the gusty wind, and she was forced to literally hold on to her hair. Thankfully, her platform was lowered to bring her closer to earth.

Suzy and Perla, Cinderella's mice, didn't make it out of Town Square, but cut back across the square to scurry toward the parade entrance gate. Lady Tremaine and her ditsy daughters also chose to return that way, but the not-so-good Lady elegantly maintained her composure, lifting her gown as she stepped across puddles that were quickly merging into a giant lake.

There is more, and some pictures, at the link.

I wonder if my in-laws witnessed this, since they are there now.