I returned to the Walt Disney Studio in the early 1970s after a brief dalliance with my own production company. Not surprisingly, running my own shop proved to be a rather daunting task, and the thought of steady work at the drawing board didn’t seem all that bad. Plus word was out that there were opportunities galore for young artists aspiring to be animators. I thought I would be welcomed, having already logged ten years as an assistant in Disney’s animation department. However, it turns out I was wrong.

One afternoon, Disney veteran Art Stevens stopped me as I made my way down the hallway of A-Wing. “Why aren’t you in the animation training class,” he inquired. I informed Stevens that the studio was looking for young animators, and because of my age I wasn’t able to apply for the class.

I was 37.

This should have been a wake up call for everybody in this crazy business. When you’re deemed “over the hill” before you reach the age of forty, you know things are truly out of whack.

Not only is he a good artist, he's also potty trained

From that day on, I thought differently about my career and the careers of my colleagues. It was as though we had all been stamped with an “expiration date.” Unlike the old guys of a generation past, our “shelf life” as animation professionals was clearly limited, and the wise industry pro had better be aware of that fact. No matter your skill level, talent or experience, you will one day be replaced by a younger, less experienced but more cost effective worker. As mob bosses might be inclined to say, “It’s nothing personal. It's just business.”

Let’s not bag on the cartoon business alone. This practice of shedding older workers for younger ones is now part and parcel of corporate America. After all, younger workers cost the company less, and in today's profit-motivated world that’s really all that matters. Before I spin off on a tirade against our obsession with profit and greed, I’d better get back to our little world of fairies and bunny rabbits.

When we came into this business as kids many years ago, we remembered the bosses who occupied the corner office down the hall. They were the “old farts” that had paid their dues, and were now enjoying what they had earned. These were the guys and gals who had toiled in the ranks for decades. They were knowledgeable and experienced, and the studio considered them an asset. We took comfort in knowing that if we worked long enough and hard enough, that future would one day be ours. Boy, were we wrong.

We awoke one day to realize our new bosses could easily have been our children. Eager, young hotshots with business degrees replaced the experienced old codgers who once ran the studios. Fresh from the Harvard Business School and Stanford, it mattered little that they knew nothing about the businesses they were supposed to run. After all, who says knowledge is a requirement for success? Besides, all these young kids just out of school were a helluva lot smarter than we were. I know. They told me so.

Your kids are older than this guy

I have friends and colleagues who have either lost their jobs, or are about to. I understand their confusion and concern as they wonder what’s going to happen next. Most had successful careers that were hard earned. Their portfolios are impressive, and their résumés, lengthy. Their demo reels showcase years of experience, and on occasion, the company even lauds their accomplishments.

Of course, there’s always retirement. It’s a graceful exit from the business, and an option many are taking. That is, assuming they can afford to retire.

Finally, this is not a tirade against the young, because I’ve had the opportunity to work with many an aspiring young animation artist. I’ve enjoyed welcoming them into our business, and they’re the ones who will carry on after we’re gone.

Today, I look back on my Disney animation rejection with amusement. I was “thirty something” and already over the hill. Of course, the studios will continue to hire kids because they’re dumb, and better yet -- they’re cheap.

Don’t get too comfortable, smug young managers. The day is coming when pre-teens will manage corporate America.

  Watch yourself. Those guys might be in management.

Did you enjoy today's cautionary tale about toiling in Toontown? If so, Floyd Norman currently has three books on the market that talk about the joys & perils of working in the entertainment industry.

These volumes include Floyd's original collection of cartoons and stories -- "Faster! Cheaper! The Flip Side of the Art of Animation" (which is available for sale over at John Cawley's cataroo) as well as two follow-ups to that book, "Son of Faster, Cheaper" & "How the Grinch Stole Disney." Which you can purchase by heading over to Afrokids.

And while you're at it, don't forget to check out Mr. Fun's Blog. Which is where Mr. Norman postings his musings when he's not writing for JHM.

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