Dear Hollywood Studios,
Today, you turn 31. Today's celebration looks just a bit unusual, we know. We're keeping our distance for just a bit longer, but you're on our minds nonetheless. If it's okay by you, we'd like to take the time to commemorate you today. It seems like just the thing to do.
You, no matter what your name is (although, in our hearts, your name might always be MGM), allow us to step back in time. From your Skyliner station that sets the Art Deco tone right through to the Crossroads of the World, you invite us to walk with a swing in our step as we visit "a Hollywood that never was – and always will be."
You invite us to play. To leave our worries at the door, and to be a toy. Small in stature, but large in adventure. You invite us to look in wonder at larger-than-life Christmas lights and plastic monkeys and all sorts of things strung from pencils and straws and such.
You shrink us down and place us in Andy's backyard and allow us to raise our hands in the air and just be. You invite us to squeal with delight as Slinky takes us for a ride, and to oooooh right along with our favorite little green aliens.
You invite us to be thrilled. To step into an immersive experience, to strap in, and to scream with strangers. To get lost in the music, and savor just simply having fun.
You invite us to walk down the streets of Hollywood. To explore iconic buildings, and to interact with the town's citizens.
Our experience in your park just wouldn't the same without getting to know and talk with the likes of Betty Shambles and her compatriots. Some of our visits are made complete by getting to say hello to these dear friends.
You invite us to journey off world for just a bit. You drop us on a planet that is new to us, yet so familiar. You introduce us to new characters and allow us to greet old friends.
We become players in a grand story, and we are allowed to pilot a ship we'd only dreamt of flying - or actually seeing in real life - as kids. In fact, you invite us to be kids. No matter our age, we are suddenly ten years old. What a gift you've given us.
You invite to watch shows, to sing along, to clap and dance and move with our favorite characters. You invite us to eat, to savor the flavors of special sweets and fancy dinners, and everything in between.
We know that "nothing can stop us now;" this is just a pause. We'll be back to play and interact and celebrate with you soon, and we'll be sure to raise a carrot cake cookie in your honor.
For now, that's a wrap.