I made my first visit to Disneyland when I was eight years old. As a teenager, I went with friends. Park entrance was $6 with admission only. Rides could be purchased extra. We would just hand out on Main Street. From the time my children were young, we made annual trips (not to be mistaken for the annual passes costing nearly as much as my college education) to Disneyland. It was magical and the happiest place on earth.
"Mom, come with us to Disneyland before our annual pass expires," begged the GAP. Now with the excitement waning from too many visits, and long lines, I hesitated. "Come on, Mom, you won't want to one day look back and realize you have no pictures of you at Disneyland with the grandkids."
Couponman dragged out a $35 adult admission ticket from his stockpile and I was suckered in. I had no idea Disneyland had turned into a sport. "We've got to arrive by 7:30 a.m. so we can be first in line," the GAP informed me. This was supposed to be a day off. "If we hurry we can finish Fanastyland in an hour and get fast passes for the rides with longer lines." She was talking another language to me. I used to take them to Disneyland, go on the carousal, take the Monorail around the park, hang out on Tom Sawyer's Island (and eat lunch we had sneaked in), and ride the Autopia cars, and call it a day.
The first ride we went on was Alice in Wonderland. The GAP, the Bug and the Worm knew all the lines. The Mouse, still pretty much non-verbal, signed them. On the Pirates of the Caribbean, not only did they know all the lines, they said them in character with accents. For a minute, I swore I was sitting next to Johnny Depp. Then we went on the Jungle Cruise. They knew all the lines there, too. (But then again, who doesn't.) To my way of thinking, they may have hit Disney a few times more than they needed to.
The GAP sat next to her children just like I had. I remembered her first ride on the Jungle Cruise. She was three or four. She'd worn a yellow dress and pig tails tied with yellow ribbons. Her eyes were open wide at the ferocious looking animals. "Alligators like to eat little girls," the guide had adlibbed. "Especially those with yellow ribbons tied in their hair." The GAP had sunk down to the floor and everyone on the cruise got a chuckle.
Today everything seemed faster and smaller. I grabbed onto the rail on the Gadget's roller coaster in Tune Town and held on tight. I was sitting next to the Mouse. I squeezed my eyes closed and held my breath before I realizing he was a lot braver than I am.
Today, unlike years before, my favorite rides now included at least one of the following — seated, boring, or cool. The best ride included all three.
After nearly twelve hours of roaming this magical land, my feet hurt, I'm dizzy from the likes of Space Mountain, and my sides hurt from being flung against the padded sides of metal cars on Big Thunder Mountain. It wasn't until on the way home, I realized I had pictures of the grandkids and I owned Photoshop. As usual this realization, a day late and dollar short.
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