Press on the Run

IT WOULD HAVE been an ideal junket-well, close to it. The ideal junket would have been an all expense-paid trip to Vegas with open bar privileges and several thousand dollars in unmarked cash. But it would have been damn good.

The idea was to fly down to Orlando with my good friend and journalistic sage, Rutger Fury, and take part in the Great Lemming Run to Disney World with the rest of the American press establishment. Apparently there was to be a big party celebrating the 15th year of the Magic Kingdom and the 200th of the U.S. Constitution--in that order, presumably--and Walt was covering all the bills.

Naturally, we wanted a piece of the action. So what if there are no roulette wheels in Frontierland? Fishing for nickels and dimes in the well of fortune would be a refreshing change of pace. And all that free booze.

So we waited patiently, playing mumblety-peg and drinking ourselves silly by the mailbox. This was one bash we were not prepared to miss. But the hours went by, day turned into night, cops told us to move on, and still no invites. Stories started turning up in the media about the big do that was going on in Orlando. Our favorite radio station began broadcasting live from there.

It was then we realized that we had been snubbed.

"Rutger," I said, "Rutger, why did they ignore us? We're big time, ain't we?" He did not answer. He had passed out.

So I asked him again a few hours later, and he replied, "It's part of the conspiracy."

I laughed. "Come on, Rutger," I said. "Disney? Conspiracy? Didn't you ever see The Parent Trap with Haley Mills? A charming, absolutely charming film, as were all Disney films. Sure, none of 'em were Taxi Driver or Apocalypse Now, but...."

At this point he lunged for my throat. "Don't you see? These people aren't nice. They're devious. Where else do you find mechanical imitations of human beings masquerading as presidents of the United States? No, perhaps that's a bad example...."

I took advantage of his confusion to break free. "But Rutger," I pleaded, "the celebration is in honor of the Constitution, the document that guarantees our freedom!"

"Ha! Celebrating the Constitution in the shadow of Cinderella's castle--a monument to the feudal system. Very shallow indeed."

"You don't think their intentions are sincere?"

"Sincere? They didn't even get the Constitution's birthday right--they're three years off."

I pointed out that time takes on different dimensions in the fantasy world of an amusement park. They've been celebrating Mickey Mouse's 50th birthday for the last decade.

"What I'm trying to get to is this: the Disney Corporation only invited those journalists whom they could reasonably expect to provide adequate publicity in return for the money spent in giving them a spot at the free festivities."

This was a striking indictment. "Are you saying that the Disney Corporation has made an evil pact with a weak and despicable American press establishment?"

"NOW COME ON, Rutger," I said, "You're really carrying this all too far. If you think it's wrong for a company to provide its services free to the press, what do you say about theaters providing free tickets to reviewers? About press boxes at sporting events? Did the U.S. military charge you admission when you went to cover Vietnam?"

He looked at me skeptically. "Giving someone tickets to an Alan Alda movie is not the moral equivalent of giving them a vacation in the Florida sun. It's more like giving them a vacation in a dank and airless pit."

"However," he continued, "your basic point is correct. Yes, I do think there are too many mutual favors. The press cannot be impartial if it has its hand in the pocketbook of those which it means to cover."

He was right. "Rutger," I said, "You've hit the nail on the head. The press has shamed itself. Why, even if I was given the chance, I wouldn't go to Disney World."

"Atta boy," Rutger smiled. "And who needs 'em anyway? I just got a press kit in the mail--seems this year is the 10th anniversary of the Topless Banana out on Route 1...."