October first, 2011 – exactly forty years to the day that the Magic Kingdom, and Walt Disney World, opened to the public. It was the 40th anniversary of Walt Disney World today, and by gum, we were ready for it.
...mostly
Now, I know what you’re wondering. Did we have to dress up like it was 1971 in order to gain admittance to the Magic Kingdom that day? Of course not. But the understanding on the Internet – remember, kids, the Internet is never wrong – was that squeezing into getups that our parents would have approved of back in those dim, distant days before Springsteen had released his first album and Nixon was still in office was heartily encouraged. Paul was the most encouraged. He somehow managed to find an outfit that not only looked pretty good on him, but that epitomized the 1970s: all polyester and rayon and prints … and I am telling you now that he did his level best to feather his hair. I put on my Obscenity Shorts and my red striped tank top and wished desperately for mustache wax. I’ve since seen pictures of my Dad from the early 70s and was startled at the eerie, unsettling resemblance. Joe and Marty dressed like Joe and Marty, because seriously, there’s such a thing as going too far.
At the gates to the Magic Kingdom, we were each given a 40th Anniversary Button and a park map whose cover resembled the old ticket booklets you’d buy when you came to Disney World in those years before I was born. There were five kinds of tickets, A through E, where the A tickets were inexpensive and the rides were basic, but the E tickets – stuff like Haunted Mansion and Pirates of the Caribbean – cost nearly a dollar and were balls-out amazing. Even now, new rides with big budgets and tiny details are called E-tickets, and it’s stuff like that, legacy stuff, that makes me feel like the past is not so distant from the present.
Inside the E-ticket booklet was a regular, present day map … and a replica of the Opening Day map from 1971. As far as I know, this was the only day the maps were going to be distributed, despite the fact that Disney’s dedication to celebrations is vast and ongoing. I made sure to get me a handful; I wanted some for my own archives, but I also wanted one I could thumb through at will. I spent a lot of that morning opening my map up and looking through at another slice of this world of which I was never a part … and which I’m now inextricably bound to. Time’s a funny thing.
The courtyard outside the entrance was thronging with people, and while it took some intense mobile coordination, we merged with the larger Crew, Disney folks we’d met on Twitter who eventually became real-life buddies. Kristen, as promised, brought her homemade cinnamon scones. Her home, by the way, is in New Jersey, which meant she had to transport something like fifty scones on an airplane. They were as good as fresh-baked. Doug, who I haven’t seen since he jettisoned New England for the year-round Disneyness of Florida, stood by in a red shirt as if he’d never seen Star Trek. Kim, who loves my dimples so much I send her dimple pics on days when we’re apart. So many more friends, too many to count. We got this picture before the opening ceremonies, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never seen Marty (in the back with his hands outstretched) looking happier. There are few things as thrilling as seeing Marty drunk with happiness.
Me and Kristen!
Paul and Scarlet!
Marty and Robbie!
The opening ceremonies went according to tradition: the Mayor of Main Street appeared at the train station overlooking the courtyard and welcomed us all to the Most Magical Place On Earth (Disney specificity: Disneyland is the Happiest place, Disney World is the Most Magical. You can’t have the same superlative for two places!) Then other citizens of Main Street come out and dance and sing a medley of “Good Morning” (Good morning! Good mooooorning! It’s great to stay up late!), “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah,” and “Casey Jr.” Then the Disney World railroad pulls in, steaming its steam, with Mickey Mouse and a whole bunch of other Disney characters in tow. It’s cheerful and wonderful and it scares my husband to death.
Good morning!
Then we were in, rushing up Main Street with the unwashed masses, taking fewer moments than normal to savor the grandeur of Cinderella Castle, making sure we got good spots for the 40th Anniversary celebration. We managed to force our way through the paths to a covered shelter so close to the castle forecourt we could almost touch it. Our friend Colin emerged from the rabble … wearing an all-too similar outfit.
“I’m afraid my shorts aren’t short enough,” Colin said, glancing at my pasty-white legs and the pockets hanging beneath the frayed cutoff line.
Paul glanced at us. “Or, you know, too short?”
“No such thing!” I said, and looked back down at my map. I loved my map.
Yes.
The Walt Disney World Ambassadors appeared at the Castle Forecourt, followed by the Main Street Philharmagic, launching at once into a jaunty medley of classic Disney melodies: “Heigh Ho,” “Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah,” “Under the Sea” and a bunch more. Was I singing along? Maybe I was singing along. Soon, the big parade started up Main Street, and this was a small slice of genius. Disney is a big fan of spotlighting itself, and over the years, parades have been a large part of it celebrating the wonder that is Disney. As this parade approached, we realized with dawning amazement that it wasn’t just one parade; it was all the parades. At their ten-year mark, Disney had something called a “Tencennial,” and a section of that parade led the march. Then there was something called Mickey Mania, then music from the 15th, the 20th (Remember the Magic!), the 25th anniversaries and more. Marching along in all this was the Cavalcade of Characters: Mickey and Minnie, of course, the whole Big Five, and all the princesses … but also the princes, which made Paul happy, and Chip and Dale and Br’er Fox and Bre’er Bear and the White Rabbit and Alice and the Mad Hatter and the Seven Dwarfs and BALOO WAS THERE and Buzz and Woody and Stitch and it was overwhelming and thrilling and I never wanted it to end.
Of course it did … which is okay when you have the cushion of Walt Disney World to buoy you back up. The ambassadors spoke some, CEO Meg Crofton delivered a nice address, and then the Main Street barbershop quartet, The Dapper Dans, led everyone in a sing-along of “When You Wish Upon a Star.” My buddies were close by, and we knew all the words.
Then: fireworks. During the day at Disney, you can totally have fireworks. And that’s how we saw in the 40th Anniversary of Walt Disney World.
* * *
The Crew, like the Avengers, assembled. Through the space-age power of our texty machines, we all gathered in Tomorrowland, within sight of Space Mountain. As we prepared to hand over our passes to emissaries bound for the FastPass Machines, Kim noticed that an inordinate number of us had the Premiere Passport, the card that grants you unlimited access to both Disney World and Disneyland over the course of a year. Two years ago – hell, a year ago – I would have found the concept absurd. Even when I’m doing well, I can’t really afford to jet off to Anaheim all pell-mell. Or willy-nilly. Or helter-skelter. One of those. Anyhow, Disneyland is far, Disneyland is expensive to get to, and worst of all, Disneyland is super mega awesome and yes, I would like a Premiere Passport, thank you.
“Take them, Doug!” Kim said, grinning. “I want a picture!”
“All of them?”
“All of them!” She was laughing. Doug was laughing. We were all laughing. Maybe it was the nervous titter of rampant consumers, or the residual glee of the day … but in circumstances like this, when your laughter mixes so easily with the laughter of others, it’s more a matter of I’m here with people who understand me, at least this part of me, this special, important, childlike part. Maybe I don’t know everyone here all that well, but I’m among friends. Of the Three Libras Plus One, Paul and I had Premiere Passports, and, giggling, we handed ours over.
We just couldn’t stop laughing.
* * *
Very briefly: if you have a low blood sugar crash at Disney World, the best people to have with you are Joe, Paul, and Marty. They’re like EMTs, those guys.
* * *
We tooled around the Magic Kingdom for awhile, then monorailed over to Epcot for some more of that delicious Food and Wine. I’ve been noticing something interesting about Epcot: a lot of the time, you can only make your way halfway around the World Showcase Lagoon. Like all Disney parks, it’s fun and immersive and brilliant … but it’s also a bit of an endurance test. World Showcase most of all, because it’s all cement and it’s wide open. Depending on the heat and – even more importantly – the humidity of the day, you can only really bring yourself to journey part of the way across before giving up and retreating back to Future World and, eventually, the comfort and cool of your car, your hotel room, your pool. Still, only getting partway across always feels like a slingshot I only pulled back a little and let go with a sigh. It’s less than one and a quarter miles across, which is nothing back home, less than fifteen minutes on the treadmill. But at Disney, that 1.2 miles can, on occasion, feel immense. Ergo the unslung slingshot.
But not today. Not this time. Somehow the four of us managed to make it all the way around World Showcase, stopping, sampling food, gorging, overgorging. Slingshotting, in other words. For the first time this whole trip, Marty, Paul, Joe and I slingshot around the World.
“The best thing about getting one of these Food and Wine gift card bracelets is that it forces you to watch your budget,” Paul and I agreed at the start of the trip. Within a day, we were reloading them. It wasn’t the last time. France had milk chocolate crème brulee! You can’t just have that once.
By the time we passed by the Mexico pavilion, we were won out, utterly exhausted, and ready for some indoor time. At once, we veered right to Future World West, where we dove into The Universe of Energy, featuring Ellen’s Energy Adventure, a long, dark, gently entertaining attraction where Joe and Paul would take various naps.
The Universe of Energy is one of the original Epcot pavilions, back when it was called EPCOT Center and everyone’s childhoods were still intact. It’s partially solar powered and it used to have jaunty music during the preshow and the finale and the whole thing was about energy. Does it sound dull? Maybe. It’s one of the most aggressively “edutaining” offerings Disney ever constructed, and in 1996 they redid the attraction, calling it Ellen’s Energy Adventure. Disney decked it out with a pre-out Ellen Degeneres, a pre-shaved Alex Trebek, a pre-Halloween H20 Jamie Lee Curtis, and a pre-obscurity Bill Nye the Science Guy, hoping that some funny would inject some life into the attraction. They succeeded, and the pavilion has remained the same since. This means that it’s been Ellen’s Energy Adventure for longer than it was the original attraction; it further means that, while it’s not antiquated eighties nostalgia you get wrapped up in, you get a full-on rush of the 1990s. Ellen’s got a sweet appliqué vest, is all I’m saying. Plus there’s dinosaurs!
After our jaunt into the past – always there, especially at Epcot – we retreated back to our hotel for more swimming, more sleeping, more being away from the humidity of the day. Paul, who had embraced the commando ethos before arriving, had forgotten about how muggy Florida in the early autumn can be, and was flagging like whoa. Even I, Mr. Go Go Go, needed a break. I had all too recently been there in mid-summer, and boy, that’s not a thing you forget.
So we rested, and rested some more, and soon the sun dipped below the horizon and we were off to our second birthday party of the trip. There was a blizzard coming, but we didn't know it yet.
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