On a Clear Day I Can Read Forever

My career aspirations at 5 were simple. I wanted to be a cowgirl or a Mouseketeer,  preferably both, like Annette Funicello, who occasionally exchanged her mouse ears for a cowboy hat on “The Adventures of Spin and Marty.”

I know that millions of other kids cherished similiar dreams as they sat glued to their TV sets watching Disney’s “The Mickey Mouse Club,” wearing their mouse ears, and, of course, singing along to “M-I-C-”.  Yes, I still remember all the words.

But what I didn’t realize until I was reading the fondly informative Why? Because We Still Like You: An Oral History of The Mickey Mouse Club is that the original series lasted for just three years in the mid-’50s, that Spin and Marty, and later, the Hardy Boys, were not separate series but part of the hour-long show, and that only a core group of Mouseketeers were on hand from beginning to end.  And that I was watching re-runs.

Having lived in Orlando for the last 25 years, I tend to take all things Disney for granted. Jennifer Armstrong’s book reminded me what a pervasive, magical influence Disney was on my growing up in North Carolina. Reading about Cubby, Karen, Doreen, Annette and Lonnie’s adventures as Mouseketeers also brought back memories of Davy Crockett and Zorro, of all the Disney movies (animated and live-action), and of Disneyland itself. How many times did I stare at its storied spires on the back of cereal boxes?

Those lucky Mousekeeters. If they went to lunch at the right time, they could bump cafeteria trays with Fess Parker, and Annette lined the perimeter of her dressing-room with pictures of Guy Williams. She would sneak over to the nearby studio set to watch “Zorro” being filmed. Other Mice wandered into the animation building where they saw artists paint the detailed cels that would become Mickey and Goofy cartoon movies.

But it wasn’t all smiles and pixie dust, Armstrong writes. The kids put in days of hard work, including three hours of school. In addition to the rehearsals and performances, there were on-demand public appearances on weekends. And most of the time, the Mice were left out of the life-changing decisions that went on around them, that saw many of the cast come and go, a beloved director disappear, planned projects scrapped with no explanation. After all, they were just kids who did what they were told and minded their manners.

That they seemed like “normal kids” was a great part of their appeal, Armstrong points out, and why so many viewers could identify with them. She divides her chatty narrative into three sections, with a nice collection of black-and-white photos midway through.

 Part One details how the whole phenomenon came into being in 1955 as Disney Studios and, yes, ABC, came together to produce the show, and as kids in dance classes across southern California were recruited for sweaty mass auditions.

The second section, “The Show Years, ” takes readers backstage to meet ex-Mice and new Mice, the friendships, rivalries, fan mail, first kisses, inevitable disappointments. Darlene Gillespie had good looks and a powerful voice, but Annette was Uncle Walt’s favorite, and her sweet charisma made her not just a star, but “the” star.  Over time, though, teenage hormones presented problems for Disney’s squeaky-clean image. Armstrong reports “boys across America started to repeat a common refrain: ‘Let’s go home and watch Annette grow!’ ”

In fact, Annette’s growing, disproportionate fame, coupled with the aging of the Mice and their fan base, spelled a slide in the ratings and cancellation. The book’s last section, “The Aftermath,” follows the cast into post-show years.

“The Mouseketeers had given up their childhoods for stardom., ” Armstrong writes. “. . .some embraced their Disney pasts, while others fled. ” 

Cubby got drumming gigs, Bobby danced on Lawrence Welk, Tommy became a make-up artist. Spin’s Tim Considine and third season-Mouseketeer Don Grady starred on the sitcom “My Three Sons,” and former Mouseketeers guested as their girlfriends. Annette, of course, became a teen icon in the “Beach Party” flicks of the 1960s, but her fairytale career later ended with a diagnosis of the MS that she continues to fight. Yet she is quoted as saying, “I’m lucky in this life because of Walt Disney.”

Come to think of it, aren’t we all?

Open Book: I received a review copy of Jennifer Armstrong’s Why? Because We Still Like You: An Oral History of The Mickey Mouse Club (Grand Central). I bet I know where I could find some new mouse ears.