The last time I entered a Disney-related theme park was in 1987. I was four years old, and my mother traveled with my sister and I to the Walt Disney World Resort and Magic Kingdom in Florida. I think that was the vacation on which I was temporarily “lost” following a brief elevator snafu that saw me leave my mother’s side unnoticed. So the story goes, I was watching the wrong set of legs as I exited the elevator. I was found a few short hours later. Whatever, I’m sure tons of stupid things happened to you when you were a toddler, some of which are way more embarrassing than getting lost in a hotel. You probably ate your own shit or were molested or something.
As for the Magic Kingdom, I don’t remember much from that trip. You probably wouldn’t, either. I mean, it was almost 21 years ago now, so that’d be like trying to remember a series of events that occurred at a time in your life when the most important thing you had to consider on a daily basis was whether or not you wanted pizza of a hamburger for dinner. I remember fearing all the rides. I remember my sister fearing all the rides. I remember my mother fearing all the rides. Our trip to Disney World included about a half-dozen visits to Pirates Of The Caribbean, a half-dozen visits to “It’s A Small World,” and a half-dozen visits to the Haunted Mansion. I want to say we stayed at Disney World for a week, but that seems like an awfully long time to do the same three things over and over again. I remember watching fireworks over a river or a lake one night. I remember riding on the monorail (mono — d’oh!), and I remember filling up my autograph book with many, many autographs. I think I had a crush on Snow White or Cinderella or Sleeping Beauty. I don’t remember which, you’d have to ask my mother.
Which leads me to my Top Ten list of “Gross!”, published in September of 2006. Number 8 on that list: Amusement Park rides. “I’ve been on maybe four roller coasters, and a few other “thrill rides,” but I don’t see the point in them. Plus, why does it always work out that everyone wants to ride the Exterminator right after we’ve finished our chili cheese dogs and ice cream? It’s not the most pleasant feeling in the world, and whereas your typical thrill-seeker might experience a rush of adrenalin and euphoria, I only experience an inability to keep my eyes open (due to an influx of air to the eyeballs, not fear) and nervousness over losing the contents of whatever happens to be in my pockets at the time.”
Well, Nicci had been planning a trip for us to Disneyland and California Something Park for a while now, and today was our day to make that dream come true. She’d been threatening to take me aboard various thrill rides, and I couldn’t have responded more negatively. In the car, as we drove down I-5 South early this morning, I sent a text message to a pharmacist asking if it was better to pop a Xanax or some Dramamine before attempting to please the girl. He recommended the Xanax.
The first ride we experienced was the Buzz Lightyear something-or-other, which consisted of firing plastic guns at little targets sporadically placed in a giant maze-like room. No need for medication on that one. I think Nicci outscored me by 4x whatever total I reached. With the mild euphoria of my sweet, sweet benzo kicking in, we decided that I would test my stomach and my anxieties about “thrill rides” on something called the Matterhorn. It was like a bobsled ride, only you’re in a roller coaster car, not on a bobsled. I survived it, and felt somewhat confident about my ability to conquer equally “thrilling” rides. Following that little confidence booster, we toyed around on an Alice In Wonderland thing and Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride. Both were pretty cheesy. I think after that we went to the Haunted Mansion, which was quite reminiscent of the one I visited in Florida as a child. Next, I had my biggest test of the afternoon: Splash Mountain. There’s nothing I hate more than the feeling of my stomach rising up in the back of my throat, so flying around in a hollowed-out log leading into a wicked fifty-foot drop isn’t exactly my idea of fun. Nevertheless, I vanquished my fears and quite enjoyed the ride. We followed that by going over to the Indiana Jones ride. That one was fun for a while but I felt a bit off after exiting the ride. Of course, I should probably state that I didn’t eat anything all day, so maybe running around a theme park on an empty stomach on a warm day wasn’t exactly the best way to ensure my not succumbing to motion sickness. We decided to skip the Thunder Mountain Railroad or whatever its called so we could go over o the California What’s-It-Called Park.
Nicci wanted to do this thing she described as “a Ferris Wheel ride that stops at the top so you can watch a boring movie, that smells like oranges.” The line was too long. We walked around, explored the various rides in that part of the park, and then I told her she should do the Tower of Terror without me. She didn’t want to, but after hearing her talk about how amazing it was, I felt I couldn’t let her come here and not do it. I sat and waited at the bottom. We thought about doing something else, but then we decided to return to the Disney theme park. We waltzed right into Pirates Of The Caribbean and enjoyed that ride. Our plans to eat the fancy restaurant attached to the ride were thwarted by $30 entrees. Instead we walked around the last little segment of the park we didn’t get to see before, then sat down to eat cheeseburgers. Lastly, we had to procure a good spot for the fireworks display. We sat around for over two hours waiting. Mushy kisses and all that stuff passed the time. The fireworks were quite incredible.
Maybe I’ll post the picture from Splash Mountain tomorrow. I’m fucking exhausted now. I’ve been up since 5:30am this morning, and I did not go to sleep at a reasonable hour on Sunday night.
