I see the beast, but where's the beauty?

 

I have kind of a love/hate relationship with Disney and their parks, hotels and stores. Despite their continued business model of squeezing ever last dollar out of visitors to the Happiest Places on Earth, I continue to grumble and book trips to the Magic Kingdom. And I'm joined by millions of others who flock to the parks daily to consume their churros and turkey drumsticks as they shuffle off to a ride.

The question is why? I have never been to Disneyland when it wasn't crammed with miserable looking people desperately trying to get to the next ride that has less than an hour wait. And the infamous lines that wind around like a snake swallowing it's own tail continue to get more elaborate and deceptive. The replaced fast pass kiosks with a Genie Plus App that you have to pay $20 a day per person to use to join the rebranded "Lightning Lane" on select rides. The catch is, if you can actually figure out the app (and it is working) you can only use it once per select ride per day and once you use it on one ride you can't use it on another ride for a few hours. 

The Genie Plus also isn't good on the most popular rides like Star Wars Rise of the Resistance, Spiderman Academy or the Radiator Springs Race. You have to pay an additional $15 to $20 to get in the Lightning Lane. 

Then you have to hope the ride doesn't break down before your window of time to use the Lightning Lane. Star Wars, Indiana Jones and Pirates of the Caribbean broke down several times while we were there last week.

Consumption at the parks always blows me away. Despite astronomical food prices (like $7 for a soda served in a small plastic grenade in Star Wars Land) people move through the park like locust munching on high priced popcorn and Disney branded snacks. If you are lucky enough to get a reservation at a restaurant like the Blue Bayou you can plan to spend $29 for a Monty Cristo sandwich. I bought my son kid's chicken meal for $10 that included one thin strip of chicken. We asked for another two strips of chicken on the side so he wouldn't starve. Each additional strip cost another $10.

The thing that has always baffled me about Disneyland is the hordes of people who flock there despite the expense and crowds, just to try and carve out a piece of the promised dream -- a fantasy world of magic. And I know it sounds hypocritical because I'm one of them. Part of me harkens back to that kid in me who one day dreamed of going to that place Walt Disney hyped on television promising to bring a carousel of color to my black and white world.

But the only color Disney seems to promote is the color of money. I'm sure they have huge teams of people calculating algorythms that keep the crowds moving and consuming just out of reach of the dream. 

I did note in this last trip to Disneyland that despite the outrageous cost of going there, it isn't a place for the rich and beautiful. It attracts the want to be rich and beautiful. And no matter how bad you feel about how you look, all you have to do is go to Disneyland and discover that maybe, compared to the unwashed masses, you don't look so bad or fat as you thought.

This is one of those posts that you start writing without a real point and then you find you've tapped into some bottled up bile and resentment. It got twisted in with all of the stress of travelling after almost three years of pandemic induced isolation. Mix in the stress, expense and the cold I got when we returned home (I've tested negative for COVID four times so I've concluded I just have a bad cold) and you get a pretty negative review of Disneyland.

But I'll bet you we eventually go back.

So happy I could cry

 

I have written several posts about crying at the self-proclaimed Happiest Place on Earth, Disneyland. So after going there yet again last week to celebrate my son's 14th birthday, I decided to do a photo series I call, "Crying at the Happiest Place on Earth." This is me crying on the first day in the park after walking about 30 miles in sandals and rubbing my feet raw.

This is me crying in the hallway outside our room in Disney's Grand Californian. It is a beautiful hotel decorated in Mission style furniture on a grand scale that awes you when you walk into the lobby. It also features premium priced (but not premium quality) food that will bring tears to your eyes (like $20 chicken strips and a $25 dollar pepperoni pizza).

One cool aspect of staying at the Disney Grand Californian is that you have your own entrance into the California Adventure Theme Park. This is me crying in line waiting to go on the Grizzly Bear River Run where they promise you will get wet and probably soaked. There is also a huge probability that you will get queasy on the spinning river raft and another huge probability that the ride will break down after you have waited in line 45 minutes to get on it.

One of the more exciting rides in California Adventure is the Guardians of the Galaxy Mission Breakout ride. It used to be the Tower of Terror Ride with a spooky Twilight Zone theme. They switched it over to Guardians of the Galaxy when they bought the franchise. This is me crying in front of the tower after losing control of several bodily functions during the third or fourth free fall elevator drop. That is me in the back row left.

Tim Travel

I have to admit it is nice to be away and not have to worry about too much more than what to order from room service, when to go to the pool, when to workout (yes there is a gym here and I have used it every day), when to go to dinner and what to watch on television. Of course it is Spanish television and we tend to watch the English programs with Spanish subtitles instead of the other way around. But I tell you, sometimes I catch myself watching about 10 minutes of Bewitched before I realize it isn't in English. And of course we get the Fox Network so we can keep up on the latest news about Anna Nicoles' corpse.

Neither Tess nor I speak a great deal of Spanish. But I am trying to learn by reading the Spanish subtitles on the English speaking programs. It is particularily entertaining to see what Spanish words they come up with for English idioms and swear words. "What's up dog," becomes "Que Paso Amigo."



Most of the staff at the hotel speak English and respond to most of my attempts at Spanish with, "Okay." I do love the way Spanish sounds. And it is fun keeping track of how to greet people depending upon the time of day (Buenos Dias, Buenos Tardes or Buenos Noches). I tend to talk low and mumble in Spanish the same way I do in English, so I am getting by okay.

We do like spending time at the pool. I sunburned my ankles the first day and have been slathering on the sunscreen. I used so much today that my wedding ring slipped on my finger in the deep end while I was dog paddling around. I had to talk a couple of kids to dive for it and then give it back to me when they found it. Both Tess and I were relieved.

We are flying back to Seattle Friday. Fortunately it is not a red eye home. Unfortunately I won't have much time to recover from traveling. I have to head back to the airport on Saturday to go to a marketing conference. The upside is that it is in Las Vegas. The downside is that it is Las Vegas.

Oh well, it's been awhile since I Photoshopped my face on something from a casino. That's something to look forward to.

Where in the world...

It is Tess' mid-winter break and we are travelling. We took a redeye out of Seattle on Saturday night and arrived at our destination Sunday at about 12:30 p.m. Other than sleeping through the inflight movie (How to eat fried worms) in between being woken up by flight attendants who insisted we take juice or water, the flights were uneventful.

I am now a foreign correspondent for Dizgraceland. I am amazed that no matter where you are in the world you can very likely get an Internet connection and blog. So here I am sitting in our room blogging.

But this is no travelogue. Suffice it to say, we are in some place much warmer than Seattle and you can lay by the outdoor pool in comfort (which we did). I looked up from my lounge chair and this statue was peering down at me.

Since I am on a vacation of sorts, I probably won't be Photoshopping my face on anything for the week. Besides after responding to a request by "Tia" and "Cara" to Photoshop my face onto a chihuahua I feel as if I may have fallen victim to a cruel prank by my enemies to lure me into a false sense of security by preying on my ego and making me think there were others out there who really do appreciate the fine art of Photoshopping your face onto things. I don't think there ever was a "Tia" and "Cara."

I'm not naming names, but I think it could be a dirty trick by one of the denizens of another land that hates ice cream in response to an ice scream that was heard throughout their land. Or it could have been someone who likes sock monkeys but hates the Beatles. Or it could have been any number of drunken bloggers who wanted to mess with me.

But then again I am a paranoid cuss. I won't worry about it today, though. I'll worry about when I get back from vacation and return to Dizgraceland.