“No beatniks here. No Cool people with Cool faces pretending not to care, thus swindling themselves out of life or any chance for life.
“Disneyland causes you to care all over again. You feel it is that first day in the spring of that special year when you discovered you were really alive. You return to those morns in childhood when you woke and lay in bed and thought, eyes shut, “Yes, sir, the guys will be here any sec. A pebble will tap the window, a dirt clod will horse-thump the roof, a yell will shake the treehouse slats.”
“And then you woke fully and the rock did bang the roof and the yell shook the sky and your tennis shoes picked you up and ran you out of the house into living.
“Disneyland is all that. I’m heading there now. Race you?”
—Ray Bradbury, from his essay “The Machine-Tooled Happyland” in the October 1965 of Holiday.