~ The Man Report ~ ~ Pandelerium & Death Defying Spin-age ~
The absolute “best” part of going to the Magic Kingdom is the facial expressions of my children. I absolutely love how happy they look while we’re in this park. There are so many colors, buildings, entertainment, music, and attractions that their necks snap back & forth trying to capture it all.
Unfortunately, for us “ADD” types, it can be quite distracting.
It’s similar to walking in to my parent’s house. They’ve got so much crap spread around their house and jammed in to every nook and cranny that I can’t stand to be there very long before I just lock myself in the bathroom and surf the DIS on my cell phone.
My parents like to buy new “stuff” for their house. The problem arises in the fact that they never remove anything. I mean, if you enjoy good clutter, come and visit Mr. & Mrs. Mills around Christmas and you’ll witness clutter of extreme proportions.
I like simple. Epcot is about as Simple as it gets and thus my favorite park. Magic Kingdom is a chaos of colors and merriment that is almost overwhelming.
If it weren’t for the fact that my children love it, I wouldn’t go.
Now, with all that being said, Fantasyland is like MK on steroids. Colors, jubilance, music, sound, chaos, strollers, children, pandemonium, and fun all wrapped into one neat little package. I wanted to curl up in the fetal position and suck my thumb but I knew this would annoy the wife.
After Peter Pan, LG wanted to do the carousel and I wanted to do Philharmagic. As my vote is basically meaningless, we rode the carousel.
Could there actually be a more worthless waste of time than sitting on a polyurethane painted horse, sliding up & down? I doubt it. I actually witnessed a teenager forced onto the ride by his parents who practically fell asleep. He ended up on one of those sleighs instead of a horse. Those don’t even go up & down! You can imagine the look on his face. His misery actually brought me joy.
The most hysterical part of the attraction is the leather “seat belt” they put on each horse to make sure you’re safe! Let’s just say I’m hammered drunk, I get on this horse, strap myself in, then pass out in a drunken stupor. Is that belt really going to stop me from crashing into the rider next to me then onto the ground? The answer to that is clearly “no”.
This attraction HAD to be an afterthought. There was “room” for something and Disney didn’t want to waste a bunch of space so they jammed this carousel in, put a fake “sword in the stone”
in front of it for picture
opportunities, and voila, they had one more reason to pay $85/day to visit their theme park.
Kudos to Disney. Bad for Buzz.
I took all the mandatory pictures required of me then leaned against an empty horse and stared out at my surroundings. This ride goes around about 10 times so I had plenty of time to see the crowd barrel in to the Philharmagic theatre and then back up once again indicating that we had “just” missed a show.
My favorite attraction would have to wait until later.
We finished our dizzying carousel experience and decided it was time for our
mandatory ride on the teacups. I don’t even know what the real name of this ride is. It’s the teacups to me and that’s what I plan to call it.
It’s our patented “double-dizzy-ride-touring-plan” that usually leaves me discombobulated for an extended period of time.
I’ve got a sickening method of cranking the wheel on the teacup to achieve maximum “spin-age” along with maximum “sick-age”.
I crank and crank and crank until we’re pulling G-Forces similar to those experienced on a NASA shuttle launch.
By the time we’re through, my kids are giggling madly but LtP & I are green.
I stumble out of the pink teacup and aim for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, my spin-age has caused me to lose all equilibrium & aim which in turn forces me to walk with a slight right-handed lean with a trajectory that will take me to an unintended exit.
Who cares? As long as I find an exit, keep from regurgitating, and locate the stroller, I’m happy.
The next 20 minutes are a blur as I silently attempt to keep what’s left of my crustacean platter & carb feast in my body.
When I finally “come to”,
I realize we’re in Toon Town, standing outside of Minnie’s house. In my delirium I was talked into visiting this house of hell where there’s only one way in, and one way out.
The crowd is thick as anxious toddlers and pre-schoolers swarm the house looking for Minnie or anything removable to take home with them. It’s pandelerium of the highest order and I’m immediately irritated by the chaotic scene.
Irritated and partially sick, I manage to talk the family out of making the entire tour and swim back up stream and out the entrance door.
“Mom, I gotta poop”, LG flatly states.
I take this perfect opportunity to relax on the sidewalk outside of Minnie’s house and regain my composure. What on earth was I thinking?
I know I can’t handle spinning but I just love to make my little babies smile.
What the heck, it was worth it.
: [/b]
You folks call yourselves Disers.
opportunities, and voila, they had one more reason to pay $85/day to visit their theme park.
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