Recently returned from a visit to Orlando and its variety of amusement parks. A real paucity of traffic that was not a sponsored or tied to an intellectual property.

Disney has some sort of relationship with GM. GM abandoned its sponsorship with some of the attractions, leaving the People Mover as moving advertisement for nothing. In fact the highlight of the ride a is brief period of darkness. (Don’t get me started on the Carousel of Progress). I figure that Disney World’s deployment of alternate transportation methods (monorails and suspended gondolas for the love of Mike) are a passive-aggressive dig a the automobile and car culture in general.

Disney Hollywood Studios was a low touch GM property, as demonstrated by the “vintage” billboard by the entrance and the parade-spec V6 Camaro convertibles that shuffled Santa Claus around the park. I found out that Lightning McQueen is also a Camaro, so there you go.

Members of the expedition chartered a Chevrolet Express for the nine members of the party. The 11-passenger 4.6 V6 was kitted in anonymous white over stain-camouflage grey cloth. The Perfectly Adequate Suspension Pak combined with the AC Delco CONELRAD audio system carried passengers back and forth along Orlando highways with sufficient comfort. I was glad that I was not driving. My previous experience with a van of this size was chauffeuring attendees of an alternate newsweekly conference to Donn’s Depot in 1993. Curbs were hopped, and I was a general rolling road hazard. Driving anything bigger than my current 82 E Class makes me feel like I’ve gained a couple hundred pounds and I’m sitting in the middle seat in coach. My son discovered that consciousness can be briefly lost, even in the outboard seat on the third row.

Universal Studios was a little more shaggy in its licensing orthodoxy, with more opportunities for crossovers and lost properties and general oddity. There was a Cathy branded ice cream shop. Ack.

If you could tear yourself away from Harry Potterville (“I don’t care”), stuff gets random and autos appear. The old school Mini in the lobby for the Jason Bourne Stuntacular (a truly fine stuntacular, highly recommended), the Fast and Furious cars (a Challenger! and other stuff I don’t remember), American Graffiti cars had the “Do Not Touch” sign, but no Boomer in a ball cap sitting in a lawn chair next to them. Hoods were not popped, and after eyeballing the body panel alignment and a peek underneath the Thunderbird I wager its performance was limited by the number of park employees pushing it.

Non-automotive transport did bring thrills, especially for today’s youth.