Look at me way up high

Never gonna be a man, I won't!
Like to see somebody try and make me.
Anyone who wants to try and make me turn into a man,
Catch me if you can.

I won't grow up.
Not a penny will I pinch.
I will never grow a mustache,
Or a fraction of an inch.

'Cause growing up is awfuller
Than all the awful things that ever were.
I'll never grow up, never grow up, never grow up,
No sir. Not I. Not me. So there!
        -- Peter Pan, 1954

Peter Pan defied the adults in his life (mainly pirates and Indians) and he absolutely, unequivocally, undeniably and stubbornly refused to grow up.

I stood watching Peter Pan in the center of Disney World this week and listened to him as he contemplated the prospect of once again taking on the formidable Captain Hook in mortal combat.

1954’s Mary Martin, portraying Peter on live TV, knelt over the body of a dying Tinker Bell and implored viewers to demonstrate their belief in fairies.

I was 6 and, of course, I responded. And I’ve been responding, more or less, to one version or another of the Pan philosophy ever since – even after my rational self realized it wasn’t quite true.

Listening to Peter Pan in the shadow of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, I was inclined to believe. Good versus evil seems so well defined when all of the bad guys look like bad guys and the good guys are so very completely good.

Walt Disney said, “Disneyland is dedicated to the ideals, the dreams, and the hard facts that have created America... with hope that it will be a source of joy and inspiration to all the world."

But “hard facts” haven’t treated all of us equally, nor have we become aware of their existence at the same age.

My parents’ generation discovered Walt Disney in the context of a world dominated by hard facts. But my generation discovered hard facts in the context of Disney.

In Disney’s world, it seems possible to actually be sure that we are right. And even when it’s certain that things will get worse before they get better, it’s also certain that good will prevail and that we’ll all live happily ever after.

But in the real world, outcomes aren’t always guaranteed. Those living through the Depression and World War knew this before they were ever exposed to Disney; we Baby Boomers had less cause for skepticism and were more susceptible to the Disney message.

But life’s lessons can be harsh and the time comes, for most of us, when we realize that good intentions, hard work and following the rules does not always lead to positive outcomes.

Standing in the crowd this week, I struggled to let the joyful message prevail. But I failed.

I guess I was crying because I knew Peter was telling a lie. I know now that dreams don’t always come true, that goodness is not always rewarded and that it isn’t always safe to trust others.

He was describing a world I once thought I lived in – a world I can’t stop wanting to occupy. And I wept out of a sense of loss – the loss of something I never really had.

"I don't want the public to see the world they live in while they're in the Park,” admitted Disney. “I want them to feel they're in another world."

It’s a wonderful world. It’s a great place to visit. But, at the end of the day, I just can’t live there. And that’s why I was crying, this week, right in the center of “the happiest place on earth.”