I am 4 months and 9 days older than Walt Disney World. I have never measured myself in Theme Park years, but it's a unique unit of time. My first visit to the Magic Kingdom saw us both as 7 year olds in the closing days of 1978. We both hit our first quarter century when I dragged my husband of 3 years along to experience the USA for his first time (the castle, at that time, was wrapped in a fake foam birthday cake). We saw Hurricane Charley together when we gathered with family and our 6 month old daughter in 2004. And this year we took our first stroller-less trip with our school age kids to explore these 107 acres through their perspective.
Disney World and I both hit the big four-oh this year. My celebration was magnificently small than theirs. I didn't have key rings or bumper stickers printed for people to buy and use. And I didn't charge $80 to come to my house to celebrate.
As a kid, I never wanted to think that the Magic Kingdom was simply a stage. Tomorrow Land left me with promises of space travel as easy as getting into a car. Frontier Land captured the idyllic days of the American Adventure experience by pioneers and big dreamers as they laid the plans for a great nation. Adventure Land was a place to join intrepid explorers as they battled pirates and jungle animals. And in Fantasy Land I bathed in the reassurance that the stories of our childhood were protected by Mr Disney; flying with Peter Pan, going on a ride through the dwarf's mine, or twirling in Alice's teacups. Pure Disney Magic.
There's a place in the Park, directly between the entry to Splash Mountain and its neighbor the Runaway Mine Train, which can be described as the 'Antithesis of Happiness'. At a certain time of day, (somewhere between 12-3pm), in the glare of the summer sun, it's a place where even the saintliest saint might utter a profanity which would make Mickey's ears ring. Infants, children, adults from all over the world are trapped in a bottle neck with pretty much one pathway in and out. There's no shade. Few benches, and thousands upon thousands of strollers. This social experiment in theme park planning, I am sure, is responsible for the destruction of many family vacations and bursts the bubble of glee that supposedly envelopes the footsore and dehydrated family as they prepare to stand in line for forty more minutes to experience a ride that lasts about 50 seconds. And it's the adults who do the most complaining and shouting. I know, because I stood in that line in August. And when it hadn't moved for 30 minutes I did some complaining and shouting, tried to analyze the reasons that the line wasn't moving, and took my kids away to raise their blood sugar levels with ice creams and lemonade. After that we all felt somewhat better. But at that point I knew I was in a theme park, surrounded by plastic buildings and people wearing costumes. And they were all looking a little dated. My gleeful bubble had well and truly popped.
What changes in our perspective to take away the wonderment that we have as children when we go to somewhere like Disney? Is it the fact that we can work out 'how they do it'? Have we seen too many behind the scenes tv programs that uncover the mysteries of Disney Imagineering? Or is it simply because in this technical age of instant gratification we're still not able to manipulate the line lengths, the behavior of our children, or find the stroller that the cast member (ie Disney Employee) moved because it was raining. I tend to think that it is the latter. Our eyes are on our smart phone apps, checking the line waiting times. We're making sure we use our Fast Passes at the right time (to jump to the front of the line), and continually texting family members to make sure that we know where we all are, what we're doing, and and what's next. And it's so easy to forget why we're there, and how our little ones are looking at this holy gathering place of their childhood dreams.
My kids can't wait to go back. And I'm sure that when the Magic Kingdom and I are both two years older and two years financially richer, we'll be back to enjoy the delights of Walt's innovation and imagination. And I'll make sure that I step back into my own childhood sandals as I try and recapture that excitement I felt in 1978 with my eyes wide and expectations low.
If only the admission prices were the same as they were then...........
