Behind The Abstersion

Some people may call it downsizing.  Others may define it as cleansing.  Others may view it as purging.

Regardless, the more one desires to travel this world, the more one needs to reduce the quantity of material goods, lighten the load, and unload the weighted baggage that ties us and grounds us to a single place.

At first it’s a smaller apartment, now it’s a smaller life.

What do these objects mean to us, and what does it say about us when we are willing to leave them behind?

 

  • A Colorful World Tumbling

    Like a theme park name,
    An orchestration, a job,
    A tumbler’s life ends

    It’s Just A Cup, Really

    Plastic cups are disposable, and not disposable like, “Let’s fill up a landfill full of plastics,” but disposable like, “I know this cup isn’t going to last forever.” In fairness, glassware presents the same challenge. It can break, and it often does (see Fragilé (It Must Be Italian) from January 2021), and then it gets discarded. And some plastics can crack as easily as glassware, and my World of Color cup falls into this category. I purchased it when the show first premiered in Southern California, and I happened to be there for the big event. I rarely attend openings, so a single plastic tumbler to commemorate the occasion felt small, especially in comparison to the spectacular.

    The performance, however, was amazing. I stood shoulder to shoulder with thousands of others enjoying the trifecta of light, water, and music, the third element of which blended a medley of Disney songs that deserved a Grammy for their intricate orchestrations and mixing of contrasting songs. More distinctly, the songs fit beautifully into the performance, however obscure they were to the standard Disneyphile. The medley of “The Firebird Suite” from Fantasia 2000, and “A Night on Bald Mountain” from the original Fantasia, and “Hellfire” from The Hunchback of Notre Dame crescendoed into a stunning visual and auditory experience. The use of actual flames during the music’s climax added a fourth element and a hearty exclamation point to the performance.

    a long crack in a clear plastic tumbler

    Nothing Lasts Forever

    Shortly after the opening weeks of the show, the musical selections received an update. I’m sure the orchestral alterations aligned with what most spectators wanted to hear: the music they know and love. Doubtful that “Hellfire” provided the upbeat, family-friendly tone fans crave. I never saw the revised performance, so the one-shot event stays with me, and my tumbler reminds me of that one night and the unique performance I witnessed. Getting to the California show wasn’t easy and involved a lot of individual sacrifice, and a few family fights. My cup almost felt more like a trophy than a beverage holder.

    In the years that followed, the rebranding of the second Anaheim theme park changed the park’s nomenclature and removed the ‘apostrophe s’ from the name. Looking at my clear container with the bright, rainbow-hued, fancy font, it became a hash mark on a timeline. The souvenir (see Souvenirs from December 2011) marked a time when the show debuted, when the park kept its original name, and even the back of the cup reminded me that this special edition piece was only available for sale to employees (or cast members, as they are known) and I was in the center of that Venn diagram. But nothing lasts forever – not the original show, not the park name, not my employment, and not the tumbler of color.