As of today, the Pirates of the Caribbean ride in Disneyland is 47 years old. 47 years of firing cannons over patrons heads, 47 years of lying in a drunken stupor with pigs, 47 years of yelling, “we want the redhead,” and 47 years of nonstop singing of, “yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me!”
Raise a glass, mates, for this was the ride that for many of us started it all. Without it, there would be no Jack Sparrow, no Monkey Island, and probably no Pirate-Core bands. Without it, I would have probably dedicated my life to something useful and financially rewarding, like brain surgery, or time-travel. I’d be rich by now, with large homes across the nation, all staffed by robot maids.