The happiest place on earth

The title is, for once, not a sarcastic reference to the place I call my hometown. In fact, I actually have nothing sarcastic or cynical to say in this post at all, which is probably why it took me so long to write it. I know, who are you and what did you to Dixiechick, right? But seriously, the reason for my title is the fact that I, husband-dear, our darling offspring, as well as my in-laws, spent Thanksgiving break at Disney World. And it was truly magical. The rides, the parades, the landscaping, the cone-shaped lampshades in our hotel room, the endless suspension of disbelief, it was all absolutely wonderful. I mean, all I really should be telling you is that although I brought all of the grading I usually complete over Thanksgiving break (about two days' worth), it stayed inside its bag, next to my suitcase in our room. Untouched. For four whole days. That right there says it all.

I had only been to a Disney park twice before: once to Disney world in the mid-80s, and once to Disneyland Paris in the early 2000s, so my expectations were based on little more than warm, fuzzy memories and the tendency to say "Mag-EEK KEENgdome". Revisiting a park when your memories are so picture-perfect, but either so long ago, or related to a park on another continent is always dangerous. What if your memory glossed over the less than enjoyable parts? What if you looked at your scrapbook so much you don't remember all the not-so-great stuff? What if the park in Paris really is the better version? Fortunately, I had so much grading to do in the weeks leading up to our trip that I had pretty much forgotten we were going had little time to consider things like this. Instead, on Wednesday night, I turned into a Tasmanian devil, threw some underwear and shirts into a suitcase, and pronounced myself ready to go.

Thinking back, I realize that there is one less-than-glowing thing I can tell you about our trip to Disney world.
Sorry.
It was, unfortunately, also the first thing we did on our trip: getting there. I'm not sure why, but for some reason unknown to mere mortals, Disney resorts are pretty much, like Hogwarts, unplottable. The hotel we were heading to had two different addresses listed on its own website, our GPS couldn't find it, and Mapquest wasn't too certain about the location either. After a not-too-reassuring phone call to Disney reservations, where an agent happily told me that "We hear this all the time!", we went on our slightly-less merry way.
Fortunately, my phone did seem to know where it was going, although it completely disagreed with Mapquest. Now I have not navigated us/myself through most of Europe, the eastern part of the United States, and various parts of China to let a measly trip to Orlando get me down, so I went to work, pulling out the various maps we had stowed in our car, and tried to get a grip on the layout of the happiest, or most mysterious if you will, place on earth. And after some triangulation with a Florida map, our GPS, my phone app, and some serious anxiety-driven kvetching, I figured out that you could indeed get there from here, and plotted a route. All questions and queries about toll roads, short cuts, and alternative routes were quickly quelled with a stern, "I set up the route, and this is how we're driving", and away we went. Almost merrily.

And once we got there, it was all quickly forgotten. When we walked into Magic Kingdom that afternoon, we walked right into the "Make your dreams come true"/"Believe in your dreams"/ "Just dream already, dammit!" parade (OK, so I might have made the last one up, but I can't remember the name of the parade for the life of me), and the magic was born. We laughed at Stitch, yo-ho-ho-ed our way through the Pirates of the Carribean, made a mandatory nuisance call to my friend Shelly during the It's a Small World Ride, and loved the Thunder Mountain Railroad (which in my memory had real water spilling over it, which was either a figment of my imagination, or has since been turned into the wafting smoke they use now). We watched the Electric parade, listened to a group of southerners sitting behind us complain about the fact that ZOMG President Obama was now featured in the Hall of Presidents, and bought Disney jackets when the weather proved a little colder than we expected.

The magic continued throughout the next two days, with us mastering the fastpass system at Hollywood studios, Epcot, and the Animal Kingdom so that we got to ride some our favorite rides not once, but twice. I got to wow Jimmie with my knowledge of the Lights, Motor, Action! show, sing along with Aerosmith on the Rock n Roller Coaster, speak Italian at Epcot, hug a cast member, marvel at the fact that the Canadian pavilion still has the same 360 degrees film it did twenty-six years ago, have a glass of wine in Germany, and freak out at the "bugs" crawling under your legs in the "It's a bug life" show.

So, I'm sorry. I have nothing negative to say about my Disney experience. I suppose the one thing I could come up with was the fact that the cast members at our hotel would wish each guest a "colorful day" and tell them, "sketch ya later!", but you know, that's just cute.

Again, my apologies. Tomorrow, we will return to our normal programming.