The Mouse

After seeing my last post B suggested that I might try to explain my Disney, uh, preference. I suppose this really started before I was even born. My sweet dad decided to take my mom (and his little sister, as the supervision) on a date to Disneyland. She had never been, which my dad seemed to think was just inhuman. So off they went, starting a tradition that I would refuse to let them outgrow.

I believe (and someone will correct me, I'm sure) I was in the 2-year-old range when I was first happily taken to see Mickey. I love those pictures; pictures of a little person with blond pigtails and a Minnie Mouse shirt smiling and waving at...well, I don't really remember. But I'm sure it was good. And I must have been pretty darn cute, because they kept taking me back!

I went to Disneyland to find my family--aunts, uncles and cousins met us there almost every vacation. For a while I was an only child for these trips, but soon I was flying my unimpressed pregnant aunt up and down and up and down and up and down on the spinning rockets. It didn't bother my little, toddler self but she was kind of unimpressed.

So before you know it I'd gone from being the lone toddler to the ring leader of my hysterical cousins. Soon we were even getting our California cousins in on the mix. Somehow we (almost) always got along when we'd go off on our own. One trip we rode Indiana Jones 18 times in four days. Yup, we thought we were pretty darn awesome. It was always great bonding time for our families. On our peak days we'd have maybe 15 people in our party, which truly begins to define the meaning of the word 'party'. We had some pretty spectacular experiences, too. Things like watching Fantasmic (fireworks multiplied by about fifty) from the balcony of the Disney Gallery, lunch in Club 33 (twice!) and more 12+ hour days in the park than I ever would have thought humanly possible. I can only assume that Dole Whips and churros have some unknown power to inspire someone to keep going. I know it wasn't the french fries...we always fed those to the ducks.

Our parents basically ingrained in us the endless need to go to Disneyland. Annually, if not more. Some would say this is a slightly irrational need--my cousins and I agree that it's absolutely mandatory. I thought I would certainly never find anyone else with this viewpoint on life, but my second year of college I happened upon a group of friends in a show choir that did this very thing. Drew, my buddy who got married in my last post, appears to be the instigator of this operation. Between he and I we've pretty much got it down to a science.

I really don't know what happens to me when we go. Ask B, something is different. Traits of that 2-year-old in pigtails start to resurface...giggles, sugar tolerances and a new, almost inhumane ability to walk for 14 hours straight under proper motivation. Brian thinks I'm crazy, but he only added fuel to the flames by proposing during the finale of the fireworks. Mostly, I think it's just a place I associate with being incredibly happy. It's where we went to find family and escape from school and work. It is my dad's favorite engineering example, as we now bend dangerously over railings to watch hydraulic systems and debate how rides work. The piano player guy on Main Street recognizes my brother when we go, letting him play the piano every time. And somehow, before we leave, Mickey always finds me to give my my hug. I go there and feel totally separated from everything else. As an engineering student I can tell you that this is a VERY good thing in life.

Some people love to camp, some love to ski, some (for some unknown reason) like to go to Knott's Berry Farm. Me? I want to go home. I miss the mouse. It's still startling to be on eye level with him after so many years of being picked up to kiss his nose. But I love it just the same. So to everyone out there, here is my advice: prime your kids for the vacation you're going to want to take. Because if you go enough times they won't let you stop. Mom and Dad, thanks for priming me to be a Disney nut. Thanks for teaching me about 'E' ticket rides, sitting for hours to save the best fireworks spot and waiting in the always endless line for Peter Pan. I know we didn't always make it easy. :)

And thanks for only making us go to Knott's Berry Farm once. We'll never make that mistake again!