Commentary : Summer Work at Disneyland Holds Little Magic for Youth of Today

Remember the first thing that popped out of Orel Hershisher’s mouth as he stepped off the mound after winning last year’s World Series finale? It wasn’t “We’re No.1,” or “I love the Dodgers” or “I love my family” or “Lasorda’s a blimp” or even something as poignant as “Hi Mom.”

No, he walked straight up to a waiting cameraman and proudly announced to the universe that he was heading straight to Disney World.

Cynics, of course, immediately suspected that the charming, boyish pitcher was being less than sincere. Some even suggested that he might actually have been paid to say such a thing, though the notion seems inconceivable because his annual salary surpasses the gross national product of several developing nations.

But I can see how Hershisher, even at the very pinnacle of his baseball career, could be moved by such strange desires. Who among us is too old or too young or too rich or too poor or too blase to resist the lure of the Magic Kingdom, be it the copy in Florida or the real McCoy back here in Anaheim?

Kids in Orange County, that’s who.

Not too many years ago, the waiting list for a summer job at Disneyland was longer than the weekend lines at Space Mountain. Working at the park was considered almost a rite of passage for teen-agers around here.

Now, according to the Disney folk, they’re having trouble recruiting enough local high school and college talent to fill the 3,000 extra vacation season spots on the payroll. They may have to import youngsters from other states.

Sounds Goofy, right? Here we are in one of the fastest growing, most affluent sections of the country, a place tailor-made for those who like to work hard and play hard, and local teens shun the chance to make a few bucks at the world’s most famous amusement park, which also happens to be just down the street.

I don’t mean to come off like a shill for the Disney employment service. But we’re talking about a phenomenon fraught with chilling sociological and cultural implications.

In my neighborhood, back in the prehistoric days before rock videos and Nintendo, there was many a hot-blooded adolescent who would have gladly paid just to get the opportunity to sell tickets, fry burgers or sweep up in a place that had spawned the likes of an Annette or a Darlene. Talk about Fantasyland.

But times have clearly changed. Youngsters today, already plotting to inherit the corporate suites, BMWs and country club memberships now held by their parents, are more interested in the bottom line. Disney teens earn only about $4.75 to $5 an hour, less than many can make at convenience shops, department stores and other challenging occupations.

Long weekend hours are the norm and there’s a strict dress code and grooming rules. Spiked hair or earrings on men are a definite no-no. What’s more, everybody’s expected to be polite and pleasant. In other words, as kids might so eloquently put it, it sounds like a real bummer, dude.

“My students can get jobs that pay more money and have better hours,” said one local high school employment counselor. “ . . . A lot of kids don’t want to cut their hair or get rid of the color they put in it.” Laments park spokesman Bob Roth: “They want the hours to fit their schedules. There’s a little more of an attitude that the ‘job should be a convenience for me.’ ”

Maybe the Disney people need to reach into their bag of creative tricks and inject a dose of relevancy into the old theme park to lure local youth back to the job. Nothing radical, mind you. Just a few subtle changes.

For example, Main Street U.S.A. could be revamped into Wall Street U.S.A., complete with a replica of the New York Stock Exchange. Lifelike robots of Ivan Boesky, Michael Milken and Carl Icahn could explain the mysteries of junk bonds and takeovers.

The Matterhorn roller coaster could be reshaped into something resembling the Prudential Rock. Sleeping Beauty’s palace could be subdivided, turned into condos or luxury sky boxes. And the rifles at the shooting galleries in Frontierland would become Uzis and Mac-10s.

Sleepy, Grumpy and Dopey should be kept on, but they could be joined by a new, hipper ensemble of dwarfs with personas teens can identify with: Lazy, Sloppy, Shiftless and Prince.

And that Mouse. Nuke him. If they must have an animal mascot, at least it should be one that symbolizes values held dear by today’s adolescent crowd. Maybe Spuds McKenzie is available.