Hold the lawyers back, I am not slamming Universal Studios the way you may think. Heck, I've got a family member that is a big shot for the company (he spends a lot of time at the Tokyo park), and I personally love going to Universal. However, my grandson, when we decided to take him last Sunday, didn't see it the same way.
Universal Studios Hollywood has a new Transformers ride, and our four and a half year old grandson, Ezekiel, is a HUGE Transformers fan. My wife and I have annual passes to the park, and we received a coupon to bring one guest for free, so it made sense to take the little guy, and let him check out the new Transformers stuff.
We weren't sure if the new attraction is a ride or a show, or if he is tall enough. But just being around all of that Transformers hub-bub, we figured, would be a good time for Ezekiel. However, we never got to the ride. We never got close to it. We quickly learned that some kids have real trouble separating make believe from real life.
We parked in the Frankenstein section of the Preferred Parking garage. Immediately, we saw how much things have changed in pop culture when Ezekiel saw the image of Frankenstein on the wall and said, "Look, Grandpa, a zombie."
And to think people believe Romero started the whole zombie thing. Who'd have ever thought it was Mary Shelley?
I began to say, "That's not a zombie. It's Frankenstein." Then I got to thinking about it. Frankie was a zombie, of sorts, but one put together like a puzzle and then forced into life by some lightning.
"It's a Frankenstein zombie," I said to Ezekiel.
He tried to repeat the word "Frankenstein," but it came out "Fake-N-Stine."
Close enough.
Ezekiel's eyes grew as big as silver dollars as we approached the entrance of the amusement park. A couple unmoving horses lined the walkway near a Bar-B-Que food joint. A fountain, and a river of people, filled the morning sea. Around the booths we headed for the red carpet, and finally spilled through the entrance.
After passing through the turnstiles, and receiving our paperwork of maps and show guides, sure enough up to the left was good ol' Fake-N-Stine himself. The huge character loomed over the crowd, participating in people taking pictures of him and family members, and occasionally holding his hands up in an "AAARRRRRGGGHH" fashion. I went to point him out to Ezekiel, but the little boy had already noticed, and in response let out a blood curdling scream that must have broken ever dish in the China Shop a mile away.
"Zombie! Zombie!" he screamed as he ran behind his Grandma.
I put myself in his shoes for a moment. My son, the 27 year old going on 15, plays a lot of video games, and in those games is a lion's share of zombies. Christopher is also a movie buff, and he has all of the zombie flicks. 28 Days Later, Resident Evil, Dawn of the Dead. You name it, he probably has it. Ezekiel, I am sure, has spent his entire four and a half years of life watching these horrible, mean, brain eating zombies on the screen, and has come to the conclusion they are up to no good.
Now, here is Ezekiel confronted with, in his mind, a real zombie. Except this zombie is worse. It towers over everyone. The Fake-N-Stine Zombie is huge, a greenish-grayish color stinking of death even more so than the decaying beings on his television screen, and it is coming right for him!
As Ezekiel ensured his grandparents were between him and the advancing Fake-N-Stine, we shuffled away as quickly as we could, only to meet up with an eight feet tall Shrek.
From giant zombie to giant ogre. Shrek may be fun to watch on the screen at home, but in real life he's pretty big, and pretty terrifying, according to our grandson. There was only one thing to do, for Ezekiel. A second glass shattering scream was emitted, and once again Grandma became the shield between Ezekiel, and certain doom.
We shuffled along again, avoiding the big, green harbinger of terror, only to run into the Lorax. The fuzzy yellow character from the Environmentalism Propaganda film about the last tree is much shorter than the green monsters we had already encountered, so Ezekiel didn't scream, but he did cast a wary eye towards the happy, bouncy, Dr. Seuss character.
On our right the Shrek 3D show appeared, and it seemed the reasonable thing to do to get the kid off the Universal Studios streets and into a safe auditorium, where all of the scary stuff is where it belongs. . . on a screen.
The moment he got his 3D glasses, Ezekiel put them on his face. I tried to explain to him it wasn't time, yet, but he would have nothing of it. Finally, he had something to do that didn't involve giant zombies, giant ogres, or pesky yellow furry things trying to convince him to go hug a tree.
In the waiting room the three little pigs and Pinocchio dangle in body-fitting cages from the ceiling, sleeping and snoring. On a screen, in Farquaad's dungeon, the Gingerbread Man struggles on a table he is strapped to. When the pre-show show starts, the pigs talk, puppet boy's nose grows, the cookie boy escapes, and Farquaad makes expected threats. Ezekiel took off the glasses to see better, and seemed fascinated by what was going on.
In the auditorium the show began, and when the donkey sneezed on us, Ezekiel laughed in delight.
Finally, no screaming. We may have found his sanctuary.
Not so fast.
As the big green lug of an ogre, and the donkey, approach a dark and evil looking forbidden forest, a spider drops down. Then many spiders. And then in wonderful 3D fashion, they all come right for ya.
It was at that point that my wife and I were reminded that Ezekiel has an incredible spider phobia.
This time the scream was so high pitched I was sure Tinkerbell burst into flame in mid-flight, and dogs in the next county began barking incessantly without knowing exactly why.
People around us looked over for a moment, and both Grandma, and I, grabbed Ezekiel's hands to soothe him.
We walked out of the show gratified by the show, except poor Ezekiel, who looked once again as if he was going into shock.
Up ahead, on the left, loomed the famous shark, hanging upside down, ready for pictures with anybody who wants to stand next to it.
Ezekiel was in my arms at that point, and gripped my neck to a near choking point. I tried to explain to him it wasn't real, but he'd have nothing to do with such a silly explanation. I went to hand him to my wife, offering to go and touch the shark to show him it was completely safe.
Blood curdling scream number 4.
"Quick, honey, let's get him to the Curious George play area!"
Fifteen minutes of water zone delight. Ezekiel was smiling for the first time (aside from when the donkey sneezed on him) since we entered the terrifying place that served as home to Fake-N-Stine, and other horrible creatures.
Wet shoes, wet pant's legs, but a big smile - until I said it is time to move along.
What next? What terrifying experience could we put him through next?
I figured he was probably too short for the Simpson's Ride, but we headed in that direction anyway. Who could be afraid of the lovable Simpsons?
I never realized how tall Marge's blue hair makes her. . . or at least I didn't realize it until Ezekiel saw her.
The Simpsons was a bad idea. So, we headed for the studio tour.
We wound up in the very last row in the last car of the long tram, which we figured may have its advantages.
The floods, and earthquake, seemed not to phase Ezekiel too much. He didn't understand why we were driving around, but got a kick out of Hasbros Mr. Potato Head standing outside their offices.
Then we approached the Bates Motel.
Norman was carrying a body from one of the motel rooms into the trunk of his car, and then he saw us watching him. The tram took off, and Norman pulled a knife chasing the tram on foot, slashing his knife toward the final row of the final car, where we sat.
Blood curdling scream number five.
For the next twenty minutes about every thirty seconds or so, Ezekiel was looking back to make sure the crazy murderer wasn't still following us.
Skull Island, however, was the highlight of Ezekiel's terrifying adventure at Universal Studios. I had forgotten how real the King Kong 3D experience truly is, but Ezekiel may never forget it for the rest of his life.
The little boy never screamed. He never let out a peep. In fact, he never looked anywhere except the back of the seat in front of him. He was too terrified to scream, or look at the horrors surrounding him. King Kong fought the dinosaurs, the tram dropped into a chasm, and monsters chewed on an additional car that appeared behind us during the show. Ezekiel remained eyes front, unable to look anywhere else, holding on to his grandma's arm with a death grip.
Even the dancing Fast and the Furious cars later in the studio tour failed to bring out a smile in the boy.
Maybe the Terminator show would bring some joy to the boy.
As we approached the Terminator 3D show, Ezekiel tugged on my wife's blouse, and said, "I wanna go home."
Less than four hours in the park and we were headed for the exit.
We passed a haunted set attraction, and the maniacal doll, Chucky, stood against a door. The doll was painted plaster, and a permanent fixture to the door, but when Ezekiel saw him, a nearly dog whistle pitched scream came from the boy.
That was scream number six, I think.
"Hey, honey, there's something he may find interesting, but won't scare him. Let's check out the Special Effects Show."
We walked in and sat down, and while waiting for the beginning of the show, a couple folks were on stage showing some of the simpler tricks of Hollywood. They brought up a volunteer, pulled out her arm, whipped out a butcher knife, and after a few minutes of jokes and anticipatory wrangling, began to cut into her arm.
Scream number seven.
We had to think of something, and think of something fast. How could we salvage this trip, and lessen the traumatic impact of Universal Studios Hollywood?
The answer was obvious. Start spending money on overpriced stuff in the stores.
All it took was a Sponge Bob Squarepants baseball glove and ball to take the boy's mind off of his terrifying experience.
A hamburger and fries later, outside the park, all was well on Highway 101.
He fell asleep shortly after that, with his baseball mitt still on his hand, and a half-eaten burger lying in the pocket of the glove.
And what was Ezekiel's first words to his dad when we got back?
"Big zombies. Fake-N-Stine zombies."
-- Political Pistachio Conservative News and Commentary
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