A while ago, I went on a vacation to Disneyland for a
small-scale family reunion.
A while ago, I went on a vacation to Disneyland for a small-scale family reunion.
Now I have to tell you, I am not a stranger to Disneyland. I love the “happiest place on earth.” It’s a genetic thing, I guess, because my whole family loves it, too.
But on every trip I’ve ever been on, there is one constant: people around me complaining about the lines.
I think these people traveled to Anaheim with the expectation that their family, and only their family, was going to be at the park that day.
And they get very cranky when they realize that other people are actually at Disneyland with them.
I guess the crankiness must start for those people before they even enter the park, since that’s when they have to queue for security. Security consists of several people looking in women’s purses. I think it’s kind of odd. I mean, they look in everyone’s bags, but they don’t check pockets or anything.
So, for the most part – unless a guy is carrying a man purse or a camera bag – men sail through security, while women are frantically opening purses so that the security people can glance inside.
Now, I don’t know about you, but I can’t find anything in my purse, so how can they? I swear, I could have an entire army of little green men ready to attack, hidden beneath the receipts and other junk stuffed into my purse.
And heaven help you if you are stuck behind a woman carrying a purse, a diaper bag and a camera bag, AND pushing a stroller.
You will be in that line so long your infant will be walking by the time you are released to enter yet another line – the line to get into the park.
Once you’re in the park, you get to stand in line for the rides.
And while we’re talking about rides, I want to know what makes people ride thrill rides. I just don’t get it. I mean, here you are, a perfectly ordinary person.
Then wham! All of a sudden you can’t wait to put your life into the hands of a stranger (who, by the way, is all of maybe 19 years old) so that stranger can strap you into a device that will launch you hundreds of feet into the air, then plunge you downward at a bazillion miles per hour.
As a bonus, you get to watch the ground rushing up to meet you and the person next to you lose the $10 corn dog he had for lunch.
Yeah, that sounds like fun to me.
And yet, I end up riding the rides.
Oh, not the ones that go hundreds of feet in the air and then plunge you back to earth or the roller coasters that go upside down. I like keeping my corn dogs in my stomach, thank you very much.
But I do end up on most of the rides because, after all, what’s the point of visiting Disneyland if I don’t ride anything?
Oh, who am I kidding? I went on the rides because my family dragged me on most of them.
The problem is, I’m a screamer. And I don’t mean that I may let out a few yelps while riding a rollercoaster.
I scream from the minute they strap me into the seat until the ride stops and I get off.
That’s because I am very, very frightened. I’m scared of every single ride I go on.
But I let myself get talked into going on the rides because I have hope that someday I will get through an entire ride such as Pirates of the Caribbean without screaming. And after I’m done screaming, I’m usually standing in another line for lunch or the bathroom.
I have even been known to stand in line for no reason at all, only to find that the line I was in wasn’t actually a line at all, just a group of people listening to music.
But the whole point is, I was with my family. I had a great time and so did they, because after a day or so of constant screaming, I lost my voice.
So I couldn’t talk or scream or protest when Junior, and a cousin forced me onto a roller coaster that went upside down. And the funny thing was, it was the only ride I went on that didn’t have a line.