Postby calisota » Tue May 30, 2006 4:10 pm
Here's an article I found that is on topic for this thread but didn't really belong on the "Disney News" page off the site front page.
Greg
Turning back the clock at Disney World
Grown-ups find magic without kids
Posted by the Asbury Park Press on 05/28/06
BY TODD LEWAN
THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Adults I know who go to Disney World in Orlando, Fla., have this tendency to describe how the theme park has helped them bond with their children, or how important it is to have the little ones teach them how to feel young again.
Although I'm a grown man with no spouse or little ones, I appreciate those sentiments. I just don't get why over-30s need kids to bring them back to Disney in the first place.
I'm one of those silly grown-ups who, on occasion, goes to Disney without kids.
I suppose I could spend my free time more productivelythan getting nauseous from zooming in the pitch black on a high-speed roller jet called Space Mountain or dining at a restaurant that looks, smells and costs like some eatery on the Quai d'Orsay in Paris — when, in reality, it is only a replica within a world of replicas.
But there is something about deciding to be childlike and silly — even for a few hours — that is liberating.
The last time I did Disney World was on my birthday. A lady friend had flown in from the West Coast and wanted to spend some quality time together.
I suggested the Magic Kingdom. She asked me if I was kidding. I said not really.
Ready to let go
We stopped first at City Hall, where a "Today is my Birthday" button was pinned to my shirt pocket, and continued on up Main Street, USA.
Boys selling balloons, men playing trombones and ladies in Mrs. Potts' Cupboard all wished me a happy birthday.
Inside the gift shops, where your vision gets saturated with a kaleidoscope of colorful gobbledygook, my cynical side rose up and whispered into my brain:
"Beware! Theme parks are mass-marketed, scripted experiences designed, quite sublimely, to lull the visitor into a consumeristic trance."
"Hey!" she said, and then plopped a tan golf cap with a blue, embroidered Mickey silhouette on my head. "Now, that looks really cute on you."
When it makes perfect sense to plunk down $20 for a Mickey Mouse golf cap, and when you stroll about in public wearing such a thing free of embarrassment — that's a sign that you have abandoned all logic and are ready to let go.
Head of the line
We visited Disney World during the fall, one of the park's least crowded seasons. I assumed that fastpasses — those vouchers to help you zip to the front of the regular line — would be unnecessary.
But the sign at the entrance to Splash Mountain said we'd have to wait two hours on the regular line. So, we took our fastpasses to Splash Mountain.
We returned four hours later and zipped right to the front of the line, passing scores of people. There was, I'll admit, something childishly satisfying in noting their sallow expressions.
On Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, I almost lost my golf cap careering through canyons and rimrocks and tunnels at breakneck pace. But in the end it was worth it. My face had gone pallid, and my companion felt a tinge of pity.
"Poor baby. How about a kiss?" she asked.
Next, I suggested a boat ride at Pirates of the Caribbean.
We took the last row (on purpose, I may add) in the boat, and began to float through a dark, chilly tunnel. She huddled close when the sounds of cannonball fire started booming.
I didn't see much else of the ride, except the sailor or imprisoned pirate groaning from behind bars. Otherwise, it was smooth sailing.
Streaks across the sky
As it turned out, we turned back the clock on adulthood for another 10 hours.
Some of our golden moments included: "Mickey's PhilharMagic," a multidimensional movie where you feel like you're riding Aladdin's magic carpet through clouds, accompanied by breaths of wind, aromas of pastries and squirts from popping champagne bottles; the plunging, sensation of the first drop into blackness aboard the Space Mountain coaster; watching the childlike smile light up the face of my date as she gave Mickey a hug while I snapped their picture; and seeing the glittery beams cast by the SpectroMagic light parade light up the eyes of a woman in a wheelchair.
The end of the night found us beneath Cinderella's Castle. Up above, fireworks burned diamondlike streaks across the sky — a perfect way to end the day.