My favorite Disney character has always been Goofy. I loved him. There was something about Goofy that made him stand out from Mickey and the rest. He was funny, clumsy, prone to injure himself and just an all round crazy guy. Though I did have some trouble for awhile there distinguishing Goofy from Pluto, until I realized that Pluto did much more barking than talking. Ultimately, my love for Goofy is what makes this tale even more horrible.
At some point in my childhood, the whole family went to Disneyland out in California and you can imagine the excitement that comes with a young kid’s first trip to Disneyland. I was bouncing off the walls – I couldn’t be contained. I had to see Goofy. He was waiting for me, I knew it. We got to California too late the first day – we were going to have to wait until tomorrow for Disneyland. For some reason I believe a younger me did not appreciate the value of patience, nor understand the words, “we can’t go today, it’s too late.” I thought my parents were trying to hide Disneyland from me and I told them so. A few temper tantrums later, the second day arrived and I had my eyes peeled.
Then on some nondescript Disneyland bridge I saw Goofy surrounded by a group of other kids. I walked up with my parents and stood in the group around Goofy. I actually remember staring at Goofy, amazed for a long time. I finally came out of my trance and realized I should tell my parents what I saw and how incredible it was. That is when I turned around to celebrate finding Goofy only to find out they weren’t beside me any more. I turned all the way around and they were nowhere to be seen. I was old enough to have been told many times about lost children in amusement parks and here I was, not only lost but also deserted by my parents who used Goofy as a distraction!! They had exploited my love for Goofy!
I wandered back and forth on that bridge for an hour, screaming for my parents. Only after I was too tired to stand and getting hungry did I finally track down my parents and force them to take me back. Now that I am a little older, my parents have tried to tell me that they did not abandon me at Disneyland, but were rather right behind me with all the other parents watching their Goofy-starved children. They want me to believe that since I was only 3-4 feet tall, that they could see me the whole time. They say they never left the bridge and I was only screaming for them and walking around randomly for 10 seconds. Sounds like poor excuses of would-be-Disneyland-child-abandoners.
Sure, logic says that if you wanted to abandon your child, it might be more economical not to pay $50 for him to get into an amusement park and then leave him, but logic and I parted ways many years ago. I still have a fondness for Goofy, which includes two Goofy shaped hats, but it is tainted with the memory of Goofy distracting me while my parents tried to run away. I have been wounded, cut with a knife named Goofy.