Chapter Fifteen: Disney’s Real Best Kept Secret
Friday was upon us. In the original plan, this was our Resort Day. The day when you don’t have any responsibilities and you don’t have to be anywhere and you can do whatever you want. Sleep in even. Until 7:00.
Back in the day when Alabama didn’t need to pay their coaches $4 million dollars a year and we could only afford to stay at Disney World for 3 days and two nights, when it cost more to play the more you stayed, we used to dream of having a Resort Day.
Back in those days, money was tight and we crammed as much as we could into the shortest period of time. We’d arrive early, stay late, go until we dropped. And then drag ourselves to ride Space Mountain two more times before the park closed. Part of me misses that time. Isn’t that funny? Not funny like
Airplane! Or Barak Obama for President. But ironic. Back then, when we stayed at All Star Sports or All Star Movies, it was a HUGE treat because we got to stay on property. Getting to go to two parks was a luxury. Eating at Chef Mickey’s was the biggest thrill. The first time we had any semblance of a Resort Day was in August 2001.
I didn't know as much then as I know now. I actually thought you couldn't check in before 3:00. So when we arrived in Orlando around 10:30, we thought we should kill some time. We drove through Celebration and then checked out the newest resort, Animal Kingdom Lodge. We tried to order some coffee at the snack bar but no one could understand what we were asking for.
At about 12:30, we thought we'd take our chances and we checked into the newly re-named PORiverside. We walked over to our unbelievably capacious and well appointed room. We unpacked. Danced on the bed. Marveled at how much bigger PORiverside was compared with ASMovies and then we walked over the bridge for lunch.
In the food court.
And we thought that was living large.
Those were the days.
Our arrival day in August 2001 was one of my favorite days at Disney. It still is. And like many other good days at Disney, we try to relive it each year.
Don’t get me wrong. I loved our stay at the Lodge. And because our family is growing, I can’t imagine us staying at PORiverside or even the All Stars again. But I miss those days. I miss having such a tight budget that even two days and one night at Disney was a treat. I miss thinking that going to Downtown Disney was almost like going into a park because it was still Disneyish.
I miss dreaming of a time when we could stay on property for a whole week and take a day off in the middle for a Resort Day.
Our Resort Day for this trip was to be on Friday. We had our second Tonga Toast reservation for late that morning and we had a dinner reservation at the Grand Floridian at 1900 Park Fare but we weren’t married to it. We were wide open.
That was BEFORE.
We were now making it up as we went. Playing by ear. Rolling with the changes.
Because you can tune a piano but you can’t tuna fish.
Nor should you try.
In a way this carefree, play-it-loose kind of deal was fulfilling another dream of mine. I’ve long dreamed of going to Disney and not having a plan. Just wake up in the morning and decide where to go and then head that direction. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. dreamt of a world where black children and white children could play together. Me? I dream of a trip to Disney where I’m not bound by a pre-set plan.
Which, among many other reasons, is why federal and state employees get the third Monday in January off and not the fourteenth of March.
So when we got back to our room that Thursday night, we had some decisions to make. After a lot of discussion and eating of Cheetos and drinking of Peps and washing it all down with Yoo Hoo and a little chocolate Wilderness Lodge mint left for us on the pillow, we had a plan for the next day.
Do you remember the promotion Disney ran last summer called Magical Beginnings? You can be forgiven if you don’t remember it. It was such a well-kept secret, most of Disney’s own cast members didn’t know it existed. But I did. Because I’m ZZUB. And if you’re reading this, I’m guessing you knew it too. Because you also have a problem.
Which, FYI, might be work related. You should speak with someone in HR.
We got up early on Friday so we could take advantage of Magical Beginnings. Our whole goal that morning was to enjoy as much of the Magic Kingdom as we could soak in before our reservation for Tonga Toast. The phone rang and I picked it up and put it down. My wife grunted at me with her eyes as I sprang into action. She doesn’t spring into anything. Except Nordstrom’s half-yearly sale. I had emptied my bladder, washed my face, brushed my teeth, deodorized, put contacts in my eyes, screamed in pain, dressed and donned my hat all before her feet hit the germ ridden floor. Eventually she too started moving and eventually we woke up my daughter. Who had on her snitty pants. I could tell it was going to be a long day.
My daughter is a lot like me in many regards. She loves God. She loves Alabama football. She loves to laugh. She’s got a lot of energy. But she’s a lot like her Mamma in this key way: if she doesn’t get enough sleep there ain’t enough prizes in the world to make her happy.
I reminded her that we were going to the Magic Kingdom so she might want to change out of her snitty pants.
Which, oddly enough, didn't seem to mollify her.
Undaunted by her brewing rage, we pressed on. We geared up and headed towards the Shining lobby where she perked up long enough to ask if she could press the button. Although I said yes, I didn’t understand that she meant the outside button and the one in the elevator. So when I pressed L inside the elevator I sparked a minor melt down. I say minor because there was only a modicum of screaming. Most of which I found amusing. Which seemed to annoy her more. Which amused me more. But drew the wrath of my wife. Fortunately, it was a short elevator ride.
Across the bridge, past the DVC Dude, “Don’t make eye contact!” down the long ramp and a quick stop off in Roaring Fork (which I still thought had an S). I filled up my mug and we headed out into the blessed humidity and towards the boat dock. Which was completely empty. This was my first clue that Magical Beginnings weren’t well publicized. We enjoyed a quiet and empty boat ride to the Magic Kingdom.
As we walked through the “security” check point, my wife noticed there were about 25 people standing in line at the turnstiles.
“It looks crowded,” she said.
I looked at her like she had just sprouted a second nose and then said, “Are you nuts?! This isn’t crowded at all! I've seen more people at a Vanilla Ice concert.”
She slapped me again with her eyes but I didn’t notice because as I was ducking her rage, a CM asked us this question:
“Do you breakfast reservations?”
“No,” I said.
“You don’t?!” she asked with more incredulity than was called for under the circumstances.
“We’re here for Magical Beginnings,” I said assuming that since she worked at Disney World she knew at least as much as I did about the scheduled operations for the day.
“Magical what?” she asked with a tone that suggested she thought I was making it up.
“Mag-i-cal Be-gin-nings,” I pronounced it slowly like I was trying to communicate with someone in a foreign tongue.
“Magical what?” she repeated.
“Ask someone else,” I snapped. “Or look at a Times Guide.”
“ZZUB!” my wife said in a disapproving tone. “You’re being rude.”
“Well, she should know what’s going on,” I said, offering a feeble defense. My wife was not impressed.
“It’s George Bush’s fault,” I said.
A freakishly tall blonde woman shouted out, “Duh!”
We made our way through the turnstile and headed to Fantasyland for Magical Beginnings. We walked with a rather sizable gaggle of people towards the castle. However, once we got to the castle, the majority of those people headed to CRT for breakfast. We walked into Fantasyland where we were among about 12 other families who were there for Magical Beginnings.
In other words, the CM up front wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard about Magical Beginnings. Based on the dearth of children and families in Fantasyland, no one had heard about it. Who knew Disney’s marketing ever failed?
Made me wonder whether we really did land on the moon.
In any event, Minnie Mouse and Goofy and Chip and Dale and a few other characters were there waving to kids and such. I asked my daughter if she wanted to go see Minnie Mouse.
She returned my question with a blank stare and a steely silence.
She’s 4 years old. How does she already know how to do this?
So we rode Peter Pan. After Pan we rode It’s a Small World. The duckbilled platypus made us laugh and my daughter lightened up a bit. We headed to the carousel. Along the way, Chip and Dale came over to her stroller to see if she wanted to play ring around the rosey.
NI. Not interested.
But they prevailed upon her or I may have tipped her stroller forward forcing her to get out. My memory is a little blurry. She played with Chip and Dale for a few minutes and was having a good time until another little girl joined in and then everything was ruined. She came running and crying back to us. As best we could tell, the other little girl looked at her.
The nerve!
My wife calmed her down while I consulted the Times Guide to see what rides were open for Magical Beginnings.
You know what?
It wasn’t called Magical Beginnings after all. It was called “Little Ones Magic Hour Morning.” What the heck was Magical Beginnings? This might explain the CMs confusion at the front gate.
Hmm.
We moved on to the carousel and searched for a stationary horse. Two years earlier, in
Disneyland, my daughter got freaked out by the up and down horses and since then she’d only ride on stationary ones. But there weren’t any stationary ones on the carousel. The only thing that didn’t move was the little carriage. So I convinced her to ride an up and down horse and I promised I’d stand next to her and hold her. Just then, Goofy got on and rode a few horses behind us next to a little kid. My daughter thought that was cool.
Ride over, she took her Mamma on Dumbo and I reconsidered my decision not to pack some Pop Tarts. I was standing there like an idiot without even a breakfast food.
After Dumbo, we watched Mickey's Philharmagic. There was hardly anyone in the theater which meant there was not a lot of laughter. In fact it was kind of odd. On the other hand, we didn't have to step over rude people so that was nice.
From there we rode Winnie the Pooh a couple of times. My wife reminded me of the time several years before when we rode it with the Most Obnoxious Woman Ever. She wore Minnie Ears and had her eye make up done to make her look like Minnie Mouse. She was, by the way, in her late 30's. Well past the age when dressing up like Minnie Mouse is acceptable. The Most Obnoxious Woman Ever and her husband got into the same honey pot with us and then said, “I’ll bet you two wanna make out don’t you? Don’t worry, we won’t watch. Much.” Then she let out a loud, obnoxious laugh that made my teeth hurt. We tried to ignore her. Which was a little like trying to ignore the person checking in ahead of you whose three-sizes-too-small sweat pants cannot conceal their nettlesome wedgie.
Undeterred by our apparent annoyance, the Most Obnoxious Woman Ever, spent the entire ride making inappropriate and stupid comments. At one point she suggested Tigger’s pouncing on Pooh was pent up sexual frustration. That kind of stuff.
No wonder I hated that ride.
We headed over to Tomorrowland. The girls rode the People Mover and I rode Buzz Lightyear. Twice. Because my gun was broken and didn’t shoot well the first time. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Then we all rode the Puppies of Progress. After the Pups, we headed down Mainstreet so we could sample the singular delight that is Tonga Toast.
But one nagging question remains. When did Magical Beginnings become Little Ones Magic Hour Morning?
And how did I not know about the change?
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