Disneyland Now

When I had children of my own I lived only three hours away from the Magic Kingdom – a fact that I did not want them aware of as they watched Disney videos and an actual Disney channel. So when they’d ask, “Can we go to Disneyland?” I’d take them to the Disney Store in the mall. The toys, clothing and videos available at a Disney store was enough stimulation for any preschooler and all mine knew about the land of Disney. I never told them it was Disneyland -- I just never told them there was anything else.

Disneyland should not be seen from the viewpoint of a stroller. Regardless of how tall you must be to ride this ride, in my kingdom you have to be at least five years old to be worth the price of admission to Walt’s world. When my daughter turned five we left her one-year-old brother with the best kind of friends and told her we were going on a vacation to a hotel with a pool. This hotel was within walking distance of the famed amusement park and as we went out for a stroll I pointed out the snow-capped mountain and discussed with her how odd it was to see such a thing in Southern California in late May. By the time we had reached the entrance she had figured out where she was and was appropriately thrilled. We were celebrating her birthday and she assumed the parades and fireworks had been arranged just for her. She loved everything about Disneyland – except the costumed characters. Characters in costumes whose human faces showed were fine, but my daughter was too smart to believe mice and ducks and dogs should be parading around at such abnormal sizes. She liked her animated characters in two dimensions, thank you.

When it was my son’s turn for the five-year-old initiation to Disneyland I was so proud of his sister. At nine she was adept at pointing out to her brother, “Hey, look over there. A mountain with snow on it! What’s that doing in the middle of a city in California?” Her brother fell for it hook, line, and sinker. We bought our tickets and entered into Disneyland and I told my son I’d take a picture of him in front of the Mickey Mouse Flower Display. “That way we’ll have a record of your visit to Disneyland.” He posed for the picture then looked at the wall of flowers and sighed, “This is the happiest day of my life. Thank you for bringing me to Disneyland. I always wanted to see this.” As he kept gazing fondly at the flowers, I leaned down and said, “You know, son, there’s more than just flowers at Disneyland.” His eyes got big, “There IS?” The whole family could barely contain themselves. “This is just the entrance. If we go around through that tunnel, there’s more to see.” He was agog, and murmured, “Better than this?” You never met a more appreciative child. The look of absolute awe as he surveyed the wonders of Disneyland should have been in a travel brochure for a Disney resort vacation.

Chip and Dale came strolling up and his sister began, “Now you don’t need to be nervous about the characters, they’re just . . . “ but it was too late. My son flung himself in adoration upon the costumed characters and begged to have his photograph taken with them. He was fearless when it came to spinning things and creepy situations. I have since come to realize that the world as he sees it is rather like Disneyland which may explain why he was completely at home there.

In a world of amusement parks, one of the things that makes Disneyland stand above the rest is how it treats those “less able” with respect. If your size, age, physical or mental capabilities are not up to a statistical norm, Disneyland is still accessible and enjoyable. We got to experience Disneyland from the “wheelchair” view when the Aunties met us there to enjoy it with the children. Because one of the aunties is in an electric wheelchair, we suddenly learned that there are entire boats at It’s a Small World for wheelchairs and special entrances to everything for wheelchairs. If one of your party has special needs, the whole group gets to move up to the special needs entrance, no waiting in those pesky lines. You have automatic front row seating (if you don’t mind having children on your lap and feet) for the parades. But most importantly, you are spoken to and dealt with as a human being of worth by the Disney personnel.

This brings me to what truly makes Disneyland one of the happiest places on earth: the employees. The hiring standards are strict and extraordinary because I have chatted with the lady who sweeps up every speck of trash to the ride attendants to the store operators and I have never been treated rudely or coarsely. On our most recent trip to Disneyland we spoke with Carly, an intern with Disney University, who sincerely testified that Disneyland is the best place to work and that she loves the people who work with her, the guests who come to visit and the vision of Walt Disney. She was talking to us while waiting at a bus stop outside the park after the park had closed. No one was around to make her say what she did, this was someone who truly believes in Disneyland and had traveled from out of state to spend her days there.

I wasn’t sure Disneyland would still appeal to my children now that they have reached the ages of sixteen and twenty. But this is the genius behind the place’s design – whatever age you are there is something that will appeal to you. It was rewarding to see that my children are now able to not only enjoy the Indiana Jones adventure but to equally enjoy the stage shows and the landscaping and the engineering behind keeping so many people content in such a small area. They loved discovering live ducklings on the Jungle cruise growing up next to the animatronic apes. They were moved by Moments with Mr. Lincoln. They respected what Walt was trying to do, basing main street on an idealization of his home town, and they appreciated that there should be a place where a family could just play without the real world cares intruding. They could see how the illusion worked – but they enjoyed it anyway.

Disneyland truly is a small world after all. Family groups from all walks of life mutually undergo the sticker shock treatment of paying for admission and then docilely exhibit peace on earth, good will towards all by standing without complaint in lines, and following directions as they are loaded on and off the various conveyances. You will see the most frightening biker dude covered with tattoos and rippling with muscles, holding a fairy wand and a princess hat while his little girl waves at him from the carousel. You can sit at any restaurant and close your eyes and listen to families chatting in every language and know what they’re saying without knowing their dialect. You can park Grandpa with his walker and Grandma with her oxygen in New Orleans square and they are entranced just to people watch and share an ice cream bar in the shape of Mickey Mouse ears. And as for me, you can just leave me on the Pirates of the Caribbean ride – I keep expecting to find a ride I enjoy better and every time, that’s the one that thoroughly satisfies. I’ve got my Pirate Mickey souvenir tee shirt to prove it.