72 hours with Mickey

In reality, I only spent about 30 seconds with Mickey himself, which is apparently more than most visitors to Disney World get with the popular and elusive mouse. This lucky sighting came around 10:30pm on Saturday night, after a full day of crowds, fast passes, and overpriced (but tasty) food. We had sped back to the Magic Kingdom via ferry boat from dinner to try to catch the nightly fireworks display. Seeing only half of it (mostly from the boat), we then ditched the parade and spent the last 90 minutes or so before closing trying to take advantage of thinning lines. Griffin and I spun in the teacups and found a kiddie rollercoaster called Barnstormer that we rode about 4 times without getting off. Before heading back to Main Street to meet up with everyone else, we explored a life size re-creation of a Colorforms set that I owned as a child - Mickey’s Country House. It was there that a “cast member,” picking up trash in front of a building tucked in the garden, said, “Come on in, guys!” Five minutes later, we and the couple of other families who followed us met Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

When my parents announced a few weeks ago that they wanted to take a family trip to Disney World, I was very skeptical. The fact that I was so excited to see a short man dressed up in a mouse costume explains why. Disney makes people crazy. A strange competitiveness is roused within normally unobjectionable people, as they jockey for spots in line, good photo ops, and, of course, the chance to meet costumed characters. All of this occurred in the Magic Kingdom – screaming kids, frazzled women snapping at strangers, parking lots full of hundreds of strollers (literally). The “place where dreams come true” can really be kind of a nightmare, if you let it get to you.

But then you see some of what makes Disney so appealing: a four year old kid running up to tightly hug a favorite character around the legs as his older siblings pose for a picture, perpetually smiling employees who wish people a happy birthday (apparently many people choose to spend their birthdays here), and the great care that goes into making every ride an experience (including long waits in line made more bearable by themed, transport-you-to-another-world queue shelters and details like subtly moving tombstones at the Haunted Mansion). There is something intangible about this gigantic plot of land in Florida that makes it more than just a cleverly designed, all-encompassing theme park. Disney is so ingrained in our culture, it’s almost as though people crave the experience of visiting – they are excited to come and are more forgiving of the bad parts. I will not pretend to be immune from this. The first thing I did upon entering the park? Pushed through the crowd and stood up on a raised curb to take a photo of Cinderella’s Castle. Then I had Kayla take one with me in it.

Sunday was colder (meaning 60 instead of 80) and it rained a little. While we were riding the Tower of Terror and exploring the Honey, I Shrunk the Kids playground (one of my favorite spots, featuring larger than life blades of grass, a dog nose, and a tub of Play Dough), snow was falling from DC to Maine. Our flight was canceled and, after some stressful milling around, we managed to re-rent a car and go to a hotel to spend the night.

The replacement flight was not until Monday evening, so we spent the day at Epcot. I used to hate Epcot as a kid, because there are not many rides there. It’s true; it couldn’t be more different from the hectic Magic Kingdom. But as an adult, that is potentially a great thing. In Epcot, you don’t have to weave back and forth to walk. A gigantic lake is surrounded by mini country showcases, highlighted by abundant kiosks and cafes selling delicious worldly food. And the education-tinged rides that used to bore me are kind of interesting now. It still feels like Disney, as the country showcases are impeccably quaint and the staff, plucked from their home nations, are painfully forced to wear stereotypical garb and hawk things like frozen margaritas beneath a faux-Aztec temple and “Maelstrom: A Viking Adventure on the High Seas.” But the sunshine, relaxed pace, and lack of open container laws more than make up for this.

I was disappointed that I missed out on the snowstorm, but I can’t complain about an extra day in Florida and I’m glad that I decided to go in the first place. And even though there’s something disgustingly corporate and fake about Disney World, there’s also something distinctly magical. I’m not embarrassed to say that I had a great time. In fact, I considered buying a pair of mouse ears (to share with Denise), but they were $12, so I did not. I’m not quite that entranced.