Lifestyle
When my mom died suddenly, there was only one place to mourn: Disneyland
My mother, Donna, died unexpectedly earlier this month. On a recent Tuesday morning, she got up as normal, and even went to the salon. That evening, she was in the hospital. Thirty-six hours later, she was gone. These have been among the most difficult weeks of my life.
I spent the first half of March at home near Chicago to grieve with my family and will likely be visiting often throughout the year to continue the process. I’ve never liked the past tense — grieved — as that implies a conclusion to something that changes us, alters our course and continues to define us. There is no neat bow for a box that can be comfortably closed and compartmentalized — here lies memories of a loved one.
And yet we survive, hopefully with something learned.
Upon returning to my adopted residence of Los Angeles, I did what I always do when down: I spent time with my cat, listened to records and then visited Disneyland, the so-called happiest place on earth. Pirates of the Caribbean was always my family’s first stop, and when I went on the ride, I tried to recall family trips — of my parents rushing to the attraction and of my brother attempting to take flash-free pictures, letting the calmly swaying boat take me back to an earlier, more uplifting time. But I mostly spent the day attempting to absorb the atmosphere. My mind needed happiness and joy, and environments that aim to comfort.
Like many in America, I grew up with parents who devoted the bulk of their vacation time to Disney’s theme parks. I’ve kept up the tradition — I write about theme parks for a living, but I also go to Disneyland often in my free time. So much so that one time later in life my mother even questioned it, perplexed by my desire to re-pilgrimage the park in times good or bad. Job promotion? Off to Disneyland. A breakup? Disneyland again. The recent devastating fires that struck our region? Disneyland was there for me.
The author at a young age with his mother, Donna, at Walt Disney World’s Epcot in the 1980s.
(The Martens Family)
“I wonder what we did to you that makes you go there so often,” my ma said a few years back on the phone while I sat in the lobby of Disney’s Grand Californian Hotel. I didn’t really answer — I laughed, probably sighed — but in hindsight, I wish I had been a bit more talkative. I would have reminded my mom of what she did, because in Disneyland I saw many of the lessons she attempted to impart.
So today, Ma, I’ll tell you what you did that makes me go to Disneyland so often. You instilled in me a belief in goodness. You inspired in me optimism, that I could and should do whatever I want and I am capable of achieving my goals. And somehow — despite all the worrying, and yes, my mom worried a lot — there was an idea that things would work out in the end, no pixie dust needed. She told me in early March that she hoped she lived long enough to read my first book, believing that goal of mine was an inevitability. That book will be dedicated to her.
My mom inspired in me optimism. Despite all the worrying, there was an idea that things would work out in the end, no pixie dust needed.
— Todd Martens
My mom never tired of my crazy dreams. When I said I wanted to be on “Saturday Night Live,” she drove me to weekly improv classes at Second City. And when I said I maybe wasn’t funny enough to be on “Saturday Night Live,” we switched to acting classes. And when I was tired of making errors in Little League, my mom encouraged me to maybe think about something else. I was scared to. My mom recognized my early tendency to avoid confrontation, and I was afraid my dad would be upset. But my mom sat me down and carefully explained what to say and how to be honest and express what I wanted. My dad, of course, wasn’t upset.
It was in moments such as these that this fairy-tale-loving kid saw my mom’s hopes and imagination. I’ve long believed we don’t go to theme parks to escape the world so much as to help make sense of it, for in Disneyland we see our cultural narratives and stories reflected back to us. An attraction such as Snow White’s Enchanted Wish isn’t simply about a happily ever after; throughout, we see hard work, perseverance and unexpected tragedies. What’s more, its recently refreshed ending centers Snow White’s reliance on community rather than her magical husband, and argues that true love comes only after we’ve put in the time and effort.
Alice in Wonderland takes the unpredictability of life and gives it a Technicolor whirl, assuring us our nightmares are really just dreams. Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride throws us deep into our vices in a statement of our own agency. It’s a Small World, via its whimsy and childlike wonder, makes clear we’re not really all that different, rendering the divisions and hate in the world temporarily meaningless. Pirates of the Caribbean shows the ways in which greed and gluttony turn us into caricatures, while the Haunted Mansion finds frivolity in the afterlife, reminding us to enjoy our time while we’re here.
The author, Todd Martens, left, and his mother, Donna, at a recent wedding in Chicago. Donna died unexpectedly this month.
(The Martens Family)
For at Disneyland, exaggerations are the norm, and if we let ourselves live in these abstracted worlds, we can sense their heightened emotions. And what I admired most about my mom, who worked most of her life as a preschool teacher, was both her ability to feel everything deeply and find new ways to spin what was happening around her. When my friends and I broke a small vase by hitting Wiffle balls inside the house on a rainy day, she didn’t scold. She suggested we switch to hitting a dust rag around the room, instead. Thus, Dust Ball was born.
One thing I’ll never forget is the way in which any global conflict when I was younger would pain her. She had a deep-rooted fear that war would lead to a draft and my older brother would be called into service. As a young child, I wasn’t aware that she had earlier lived through such moments with my father, nor did I fully understand what a draft was. I just saw my mom needed a hug.
As I got older, I saw this moment for what it was. I saw it as a sign of someone who cares, deeply. Someone who feels, immensely. Someone who fantasizes, brilliantly. I saw imagination. I saw concern. And I saw love. I also saw a way to look at life — to dream, to fear, to wonder, to hope, and when someone asks what’s wrong, to tell them and to accept that hug.
And so it was that I found myself at Disneyland just 48 hours after returning to L.A. I partly wanted to see some familiar faces. I also wanted to bask in the eternal power of fairy tales. All of the park has lessons to impart, even Star Wars: Galaxy’s Edge, where tales of good and evil are stand-ins for the haves and the have-nots — the pure rugged and close to nature while the oppressors are obsessed with image and mechanical and technological artifice.
I also just wanted to remind myself of those parental life lessons. Among the items I brought back to L.A. was one of my mom’s adult coloring books, a gift from my father that I placed on my coffee table and will forever cherish. I’ve thumbed through it daily since returning, smiling at her love of art and dedication to the coloring craft, but also to remember that every day I’ll have my mom’s guidance.
And that means to embrace, to worry, to wonder and to daydream. Because that is how we never stop living. And my mom will not stop living with me.
Lifestyle
In ‘No Other Choice,’ a loyal worker gets the ax — and starts chopping
Lee Byung-hun stars in No Other Choice.
NEON
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NEON
In an old Kids in the Hall comedy sketch called “Crazy Love,” two bros throatily proclaim their “love of all women” and declare their incredulity that anyone could possibly take issue with it:
Bro 1: It is in our very makeup; we cannot change who we are!
Bro 2: No! To change would mean … (beat) … to make an effort.
I thought about that particular exchange a lot, watching Park Chan-wook’s latest movie, a niftily nasty piece of work called No Other Choice. The film isn’t about the toxic lecherousness of boy-men, the way that KITH sketch is. But it is very much about men, and that last bit: the annoyed astonishment of learning that you’re expected to change something about yourself that you consider essential, and the extreme lengths you’ll go to avoid doing that hard work.
Many critics have noted No Other Choice‘s satirical, up-the-minute universality, given that it involves a faceless company screwing over a hardworking, loyal employee. As the film opens, Man-su (Lee Byung-hun) has been working at a paper factory for 25 years; he’s got the perfect job, the perfect house, the perfect family — you see where this is going, right? (If you don’t, even after the end of the first scene, when Man-su calls his family over for a group hug while sighing, “I’ve got it all,” then I envy your blithe disinterest in how movies work. Never change, you beautiful blissful Pollyanna, you.)
He gets canned, and can’t seem to find another job in his beloved paper industry, despite going on a series of dehumanizing interviews. His resourceful wife Miri (Son Ye-jin) proves a hell of a lot more adaptable than he does, making practical changes to the family’s expenses to weather Man-su’s situation. But when foreclosure threatens, he resolves to eliminate the other candidates (Lee Sung-min, Cha Seung-won) for the job he wants at another paper factory — and, while he’s at it, maybe even the jerk (Park Hee-soon) to whom he’d be reporting.
So yes, No Other Choice is a scathing spoof of corporate culture. But the director’s true satirical eye is trained on the interpersonal — specifically the intractability of the male ego.
Again and again, the women in the film (both Son Ye-jin as Miri and the hilarious Yeom Hye-ran, who plays the wife of one of Man-su’s potential victims) entreat their husbands to think about doing something, anything else with their lives. But these men have come to equate their years of service with a pot-committed core identity as men and breadwinners; they cling to their old lives and seek only to claw their way back into them. Man-su, for example, unthinkingly channels the energy that he could devote to personal and professional growth into planning and executing a series of ludicrously sloppy murders.
It’s all satisfyingly pulpy stuff, loaded with showy, cinematic homages to old-school suspense cinematography and editing — cross-fades, reverse-angles and jump cuts that are deliberately and unapologetically Hitchcockian. That deliberateness turns out to be reassuring and crowd-pleasing; if you’re tired of tidy visual austerity, of films that look like TV, the lushness on display here will have you leaning back in your seat thinking, “This right here is cinema, goddammit.”
Narratively, the film is loaded with winking jokes and callbacks that reward repeat viewing. Count the number of times that various characters attempt to dodge personal responsibility by sprinkling the movie’s title into their dialogue. Wonder why one character invokes the peculiar image of a madwoman screaming in the woods and then, only a few scenes later, finds herself chasing someone through the woods, screaming. Marvel at Man-su’s family home, a beautifully ugly blend of traditional French-style architecture with lumpy Brutalist touches like exposed concrete balconies jutting out from every wall.
There’s a lot that’s charming about No Other Choice, which might seem an odd thing to note about such a blistering anti-capitalist screed. But the director is careful to remind us at all turns where the responsibility truly lies; say what you will about systemic economic pressure, the blood stays resolutely on Man-su’s hands (and face, and shirt, and pants, and shoes). The film repeatedly offers him the ability to opt out of the system, to abandon his resolve that he must return to the life he once knew, exactly as he knew it.
Man-su could do that, but he won’t, because to change would mean to make an effort — and ultimately men would rather embark upon a bloody murder spree than go to therapy.
Lifestyle
Austin airport to nearly double in size over next decade
AUSTIN, Texas – Austin-Bergstrom International Airport will nearly double in size over the next decade.
The airport currently has 34 gates. With the expansion projects, it will increase by another 32 gates.
What they’re saying:
Southwest, Delta, United, American, Alaska, FedEx, and UPS have signed 10-year use-and lease agreements, which outline how they operate at the airport, including with the expansion.
“This provides the financial foundation that will support our day-to-day operations and help us fund the expansion program that will reshape how millions of travelers experience AUS for decades to come,” Ghizlane Badawi, CEO of Austin-Bergstrom International Airport, said.
Concourse B, which is in the design phase, will have 26 gates, estimated to open in the 2030s. Southwest Airlines will be the main tenant with 18 gates, United Airlines will have five gates, and three gates will be for common use. There will be a tunnel that connects to Concourse B.
“If you give us the gates, we will bring the planes,” Adam Decaire, senior VP of Network Planning & Network Operations Control at Southwest Airlines said.
“As part of growing the airport, you see that it’s not just us that’s bragging about the success we’re having. It’s the airlines that want to use this airport, and they see advantage in their business model of being part of this airport, and that’s why they’re growing the number of gates they’re using,” Mayor Kirk Watson said.
Dig deeper:
The airport will also redevelop the existing Barbara Jordan Terminal, including the ticket counters, security checkpoints, and baggage claim. Concourse A will be home to Delta Air Lines with 15 gates. American Airlines will have nine gates, and Alaska Airlines will have one gate. There will be eight common-use gates.
“Delta is making a long-term investment in Austin-Bergstrom that will transform travel for years to come,” Holden Shannon, senior VP for Corporate Real Estate at Delta Air Lines said.
The airport will also build Concourse M — six additional gates to increase capacity as early as 2027. There will be a shuttle between that and the Barbara Jordan Terminal. Concourse M will help with capacity during phases of construction.
There will also be a new Arrivals and Departures Hall, with more concessions and amenities. They’re also working to bring rideshare pickup closer to the terminal.
City officials say these projects will bring more jobs.
The expansion is estimated to cost $5 billion — none of which comes from taxpayer dollars. This comes from airport revenue, possible proceeds, and FAA grants.
“We’re seeing airlines really step up to ensure they are sharing in the infrastructure costs at no cost to Austin taxpayers, and so we’re very excited about that as well,” Council Member Vanessa Fuentes (District 2) said.
The Source: Information from interviews conducted by FOX 7 Austin’s Angela Shen
Lifestyle
After years of avoiding the ER, Noah Wyle feels ‘right at home’ in ‘The Pitt’
Wyle, who spent 11 seasons on ER, returns to the hospital in The Pitt. Now in Season 2, the HBO series has earned praise for its depiction of the medical field. Originally broadcast April 21, 2025.
Hear The Original Interview
Television
After years of avoiding the ER, Noah Wyle feels ‘right at home’ in ‘The Pitt’
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