Taking Your Gardening Dollar

The Happiest Garden on Earth?

We’ve never been so terrified.  Disney is putting on a garden show. We are, at this moment, setting aside a special piece of GardenRant swag to any intrepid blogger who wants to sneak in there, snap some photos, and write up a witty guest post on the subject.  Come on, Florida gardeners, get over there.  What else have you got to do?

The Epcot International Flower & Garden Festival runs from April 5-June 3.  We regret to inform you that it includes the following:

A fragrant garden that features a Disney-fied "love story between plants, fragrance, and perfume" (no sticky, swollen pistils, please–this is a family program)

An outdoor living room with a "Pan-Tropical-Fusion" atmosphere.  Just swipe your credit card and Home Depot will have the thing delivered by the time you get home.

A remote-controlled lawn mower
racing course.  Thrill seekers, get in line!  This gardening thing is fun!

Growing Future Gardeners.  "Where parents and children can explore the magic that lives outdoors."

Don’t be a drip!  A tongue-in-cheek presentation about water-wise gardening.

The Lion King presented in topiary.  We have no comment about this.

Any other special Disney programs you’d like to suggest to our friends at Epcot?   Hmmmm….

Whistle While You Work: Why do all that dirty gardening yourself when our team of mow & blow dwarves can handle it for you?   

Put Bambi Behind Bars:  Fool-proof strategies for keeping those deer where they belong.


Posted by on April 2, 2007 at 6:10 am, in the category Taking Your Gardening Dollar.
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2 responses to “The Happiest Garden on Earth?”

  1. Disney is about one thing and one thing alone: cross-marketing. In other words, selling you plastic lowbrow shit in order to sell you more plastic lowbrow shit.

    I cannot believe people actually pay to visit those places. I once had a business trip to Epcot. Turned on the TV there–saw ads for Disney time-shares. Wandered out of my hotel room once–was assaulted by people trying to sell me more time-shares. Got a splitting headache, bought four magazines, ordered up the world’s most insulting Caeser salad–garlic powder, if you please–and tried to not to notice anything else until I was taken to the airport.

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