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AT THE SIDEBAR (Column)
A Year of Living Disney-ishly
By J’AMY PACHECO
Last summer, I went a little bit crazy.
One hot July day, I took my little girl to Disneyland. That in itself was surprising enough; I long ago made a vow never to visit theme parks when school was out of session unless there was a very good reason. That meant no weekend visits; no trips during spring break, and most assuredly no trips during summer vacation.
Perhaps it was pixie dust, or maybe sunstroke, but we went to Disneyland on a summer day—and came home with annual passes.
Now, some theme parks make an annual pass an irresistible deal. We have them for Universal Studios, where by simply purchasing a one-day ticket, we received a pass good for a whole year. Sea World has a similar deal, allowing visitors to pay just a few dollars more to receive a pass that lets them return through the rest of the calendar year.
Not so with the Magic Kingdom.
Oh, sure, you can get “budget” passes for under $100. But the blackout dates are plentiful enough to render those passes essentially useless to my spontaneous little Mouseketeer and I. Besides, at least one of our annual visits has been made for somebody’s birthday, and always on a Saturday. We’d probably end up paying regular ticket prices in spite of having passes.
After agonizing over the choices, I decided to go full out, and bought the passes with no blackout dates whatsoever, giving us unlimited access to Disneyland, California Adventure, and—the icing on the cake—free parking.
And boy, did we use them.
We went on weekends, sometimes just for the day. Other times, one day wasn’t enough, and we spent a night or two at the Disneyland Hotel.
Once, we made the 90-some mile drive in the evening, just to attend a special passholder showing of the new Snow White Musical. Even a heavy rainstorm didn’t dampen our enthusiasm as we watched the beautiful production unfold and received big red apple-shaped treats as a “thank you” for being passholders.
One Sunday afternoon, we attended a party at a public park in a questionable neighborhood. As the sun began to set and the neighborhood began to look menacing, I told my little girl we’d have to leave. She sobbed, until I took a short detour and pulled into the Disneyland parking structure. We changed clothes in the car, and spent about two hours erasing the tracks of her tears.
Our passes have allowed us to visit both parks with my parents, siblings, nieces, nephews and assorted friends. We’ve had very good days, and some rather bad days.
I’ll never forget the November night my daughter realized Tinker Bell wasn’t going to fly during the fireworks show. When a cast member advised us she doesn’t fly in the winter, my little believer burst into tears that just about broke my heart.
Nor will I forget the day Santa, riding his sleigh in the parade, looked straight at my daughter, pointed at her, and waved. I still remember the way she turned to me, incredulous that the big guy would notice her in the crowd.
Her eighth birthday will always be unforgettable – that was the day we got to be IN the parade with the World Famous Disney Characters. Birthdays just don’t get any better than that.
Then there were some hard-to-classify times, like the visit when she thought she’d finally worked up enough courage to go on “Indiana Jones.” Only when we were securely buckled in our seats and launched into departure position did she panic and wail with such fright that I made the ride operator let us out. He wasn’t the happiest ride operator on Earth, but we managed to escape.
So, as the expiration date for our passes rolled around and I saw a substantial increase in the cost, I debated about what to do. We love our visits to Disneyland, where we have fulfilled our pledge to try at least one new thing every time we visit. We enjoy stopping to salute the light kept burning in Walt’s old apartment above the fire station, and exploring every nook and cranny in the park. We don’t even mind the long drive. But was it worth the equivalent of two car payments?
In the midst of my indecision, we discovered “Hidden Mickeys”—images of Mickey Mouse found in unexpected places throughout the park. There is a whole cult following of people who look for them and report sightings.
So, we’re going to pony up the big bucks and do it again. This year, our goal is to find one new Hidden Mickey each visit.
Maybe it’s sunstroke, or maybe it really is pixie dust. But to my little girl and I, that sounds like too much fun to miss.
And, to paraphrase a popular commercial, that kind of fun is priceless.
Copyright 2004, Metropolitan News Company