A Rogue Returns Home to Magic Kingdom

The Florida Adventures, Part 3

A month ago I stood in my ex-wife’s kitchen, sipping a glass of wine when she looked at me and said two words: “Jason, GO.”

If you’re just now joining in, let me catch you up. I had returned home to Florida for the week where I was going to visit the boys at their house while their mom was out of town on business. But Christine’s trip got canceled, meaning that instead of cooking for three that week, I cooked for four. And while I was delighted to be back home for a bit, the stress of working for the federal government and all of the uncertainties surrounding it was clearly getting to me. And for better or worse, few people can read me as well as my boys’ mother. She saw it all over my face. I was wearing down.

“Jason, go to Walt Disney World. Go just for a day. It’s your favorite place in the world. You need it. The boys will be fine. GO.”

And so I made an unplanned trip to the Happiest Place on Earth the following day.

I should probably provide a little backstory here. I love Walt Disney World. Like, I love it. It completes me. Or something. I don’t know.

What I do know is that my love of the place goes back to 1998 when a twenty-year-old version of myself was selected to be part of the Walt Disney World College Program. Essentially what that is is a program where Disney hires college kids from around the world to live in an apartment complex with five strangers and work in the parks for 30-40 hours per week. The pay is awful but you’re not doing it for the money anyway. Programs like this are an entry into bigger careers at companies like Disney, and more to the point, they are simply amazing experiences. As a kid dying to escape Kentucky, I jumped at the opportunity when it was offered. Maybe later I’ll recap these experiences in more detail but what you should know is that Disney introduced me to Florida and my time working for the Mouse was the single best experience of my life.

The College Program was largely a 4-7 month long spring break. I’m still friends with these guys. And yeah, that’s me in the white cap in the center.

Nearly 30 years later, I remain devoted to both the Company and the Parks. When I lived in Florida, I maintained my status as an “AP”—an annual passholder. APs know what’s up. Sure it’s not cheap. But we get extra hours in the park, discounts on purchases, and magnets that denote our bourgeoisie status to the non-AP proletariat of Florida. And we don’t ever pay for parking.

But I live in Colorado now, where the closest thing akin to a parade down Mainstreet, U.S.A. is the Tarantula Festival held ever year in La Junta.¹ So I was excited to go back. One problem: I am no longer an annual passholder. I’d have to pay like everyone else. Gross.

One of the neat things about working for the federal government while also living in Colorado is not being able to pay for anything.² So paying the ever-increasing prices at Walt Disney World was just awesome. Seriously, Disney, which has always stressed the “magic” in its visits, has really hurt its fanbase with ever-rising costs across the board. Magic Kingdom, always the most popular park, remains the most expensive and I think after taxes I paid nearly $200 just for a day’s admittance. But I busted out the American Express because like my student loans I’ve long given up the dream of paying that off.

Now, not being an AP means I wouldn’t be there for rope drop—the glorious moment in which true believers are first allowed in the parks. For us, being a rope dropper is a call to a higher purpose. My friends Kate, Julia, Mike, and Kirsten are all rope drop devotees who expect not only to be there when the parks open, but all the way until they close. We are 13 hour warriors.³

But I rose early anyway, knowing that I’d have to make the two hour drive from Tampa to Orlando down I-4, the very corridor that ruins not only dreams but elections. I was in such a hurry that I didn’t even get my Cuban coffee in me. And it was painful. What should have been an hour and a half shot took nearly double that as traffic ground to a halt and the Hyundai Elantra I rented destroyed what was left of my L-5 vertebrae.

But finally there it was: the entrance to Walt Disney World. And like every other time I have ever been, I was instantly awake and I was READY.

HOME.

And I had to pay for parking. Like a tourist. Oof.

Nevertheless, I persisted, making my way to the Ticket and Transportation Center, where my first act was to decide to take the Monorail to Magic Kingdom.

I remember that as I entered the park I had this odd feeling, almost that I was afraid I was there to say goodbye. It’s scary working for the federal government right now. I’m really, really good at what I do. And while HATM and the writing is starting produce a few dollars (thank you guys for that) it is hardly enough to offset a paycheck. So, I’m worried when I’ll see my park again. Will it be this year? What happens if I get fired by Elon and his bunch? When will I see my kids again? This was the first time I ever walked into my park with even a hint of anxiety. I did not like that feeling one bit. And frankly, it took a couple hours to shake.

My plan was pretty simple: just enjoy the day. Float. Don’t have a set agenda. I abhor Lightning Lanes and the like because I think standing in queue lines are part of the magic. I like the stories that are told. And if you know the parks like I do, you know there is a rhythm and flow to the parks and the attractions. If you’re good, you don’t need Lightning Lanes.

The only royalty we need in America

So I headed first to Gaston’s for one of their famous cinnamon rolls because I desperately needed carbs before making my way across the park. And while I had no real plans, there’s a certain hierarchy of attractions that I recognize when I’m in Magic Kingdom that I usually try to hit when I’m there: Pirates of the Caribbean, Splash Mountain, the Haunted Mansion, Space Mountain, and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad. Of course, these plans were compromised by a few factors: Splash Mountain no longer exists, Space Mountain is designed specifically to fracture the spines of anyone old enough to have heard Nirvana in their time, Big Thunder Mountain Railroad is under construction, and the Haunted Mansion is the favorite attraction of girl I once fell hard for and is therefore like the spirits inside its walls, dead to me.

Fortunately Pirates had a short (30 minute) queue, so off I went. Afterwards, I kind of moseyed around the park for a while while I waited for my lunch reservations. Now remember how I refuse to use the Lightning Lane? I don’t use the Disney app either, mostly because I had a secret weapon: my sisters.

I don’t actually have any sisters, but the three women who were on the Raiders of the Lost Ark podcast have become so close to me that that’s what I call them. And they have the app. So while I went walkabout the park like Michael J. “Crocodile” Dundee, Kate & Julia kept me informed of queue line times in my ear. And then it happened.

“Tiana’s Bayou Adventure has a 45-minute wait. GO.” That was Kate.

I’d had no real hope of seeing the new attraction, thinking the lines would be too long. But with a manageable queue I had to go. Now, here’s an important point: Splash Mountain was and remains my favorite attraction of all-time. I’ve loved it ever since the first flume drop I rode back in 1998. I never associated it with Song of the South, a show I’ve never seen. To me, the ride was a celebration of Southern fables. I even have a framed copy of the blueprints on my wall. But here’s the thing: I’m not the only guest at WDW. And I understood why it needed to change and I supported it.

Tiana’s Bayou Adventure is based on The Princess and the Frog, one of the best Disney cartoons we’ve seen in a long time. So I was excited to see what they did with it. And I was even excited to wait almost an hour just so I could see the story the queue had to tell. And while I won’t show you the ride itself (I refuse to spoil magical things), here are a few images from the queue.

Here’s a secret: if you ask the ride operator for seating in the front or the back of a particular ride, they will give it to you. Sometimes you might need to wait, but they will accommodate guests in this fashion. Knowing that I’d only ride once, I asked to ride up front. And that’s when the real magic of the place set in.

The guests directly behind me were a young African American woman and her daughter who was probably seven or so. When I saw they were in the seat behind me, I immediately asked Mom where she needed me to sit so that her daughter could see everything. And for the next fifteen minutes I got to not only enjoy the ride, but listen to the young lady howl and squeal in delight. God, she loved Mama Odie. Listening to the two of them only reinforced something I already knew: that this new ride was for them. It was for everyone of course, but it reminded me of the time I’d seen another child—also African American—scream in happiness when she saw the ride under construction. Disney did something amazing here. They replaced a ride built on film of stereotypes of Black folk, with something magical built for African American children. Hearing that little girl was the best part of the day. No question.

People often ask me where to eat in the parks. Frankly, Magic Kingdom is probably the weakest of the four. But it also has in my mind the best restaurant in the park system, especially if you are a history fan. I’m talking about Liberty Tree Tavern. For about $60 you can get an unending buffet of Thanksgiving food. And folks, it’s terrific. I do remember how the waitress asked if I was ready for dessert (I’m always ready) but I requested yet MORE food first. When I go to Liberty Tree Tavern, it’s a revolution of culinary delight. And I’m gonna win that war. You’ll need to reserve your table on the app, but it’s so worth it.

Because you are somehow still reading this, I’m going to guess you actually are history fans. And that means we need to talk about Carousel of Progress. Carousel is a rotating stage show filled with an animatronic family that moves its way through time starting in the early 20th century and arriving in the present day. It’s an amazing mix of multi-level nostalgia with a twinge of futurism. It’s also air conditioned and 20 minutes long, meaning if you have kids, this is the place to catch a break. I love Carousel. I have a poster of it framed on my wall, too. And it’s the one attraction I refuse the leave the park without seeing.

Oh Carousel, I love you with my whole heart.

I was recently asked why I love Walt Disney World so much. For me, there’s purposeful nostalgia for a more innocent time. But more than anything else, Walt Disney World is the one place where I’ve witnessed people totally let their guard down. They’re nice to each other. People at Walt Disney World allow themselves to be kind and happy. And be a cynic if you want, but I like to think that Walt wanted it that way.

Somewhere in the day, mixed between the people mover and Country Bear Jamboree and Kate and Julia in my ear like Iron Man’s Girls Friday, I finally started to relax and breathe and enjoy the happiest place on Earth—MY happiest place on Earth. I didn’t need to stay 13 hours. I found my smile, got back in the rental car, and made it back to Tampa in time to tuck my boys in bed.

Jason

PS- I went to The Haunted Mansion anyway.

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1. No, I am not making this up.

2. Seriously, Governor Polis, how about we tax these rich bastards back to Silicon Valley?

3. We’ll convert you, too, Leah.