Seriously, Where Was I? Part IV

Our entrance into the Magic Kingdom was a pretty neat experience. The assembled crowd all stood behind a velvet rope waiting for park to open and together we all counted down aloud the final 10 seconds before the world-famous "rope drop." Once again the look of excitement on all the kids' eyes waiting to enter the park was more than a little infectious. Megan especially loved the ritual and I was the happiest I was on the trip seeing her let her inner child come out. Once inside, I was immediately transported back to my 4th grade self walking into Disneyland for the first time. It was a nice moment, marred only slightly when I remembered that there were no Matterhorn Bobsleds.

I think Megan and I hit just about every ride in the Magic Kingdom, except for the Dumbo the Flying Elephant ride and the Mad Tea Party teacups ride. I'm sure there were other rides we skipped, but Dear Lord, did we ride a lot of rides. The funny thing is, I distinctly remember going to Disneyland as a 4th-grader and being there, but I only remember riding 4 rides. In a fashion, my 4th-grade self is a little jealous, but my 29-year-old self wishes they still had the 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea ride that I rode the Disneyland counterpart of. In a way, I think it may be better that they don't, as I'm almost positive I would be disappointed if I rode it again now.

I say almost positive because my favorite Disneyland ride remained my favorite Magic Kingdom ride. That ride was The Haunted Mansion. It's probably silly that I like it so much, but I find this track ride's "spooky" animatronics and holograms charming. And not only that, but some of the effects there are still pretty cool, making me marvel at how innovative Disney rides must be when they're created. Despite the ride being pretty much the same, I do have to give it up to DisneyWorld for having a spookier looking mansion than Disneyland. Another ride I remembered from childhood that remained a favorite was Pirates of the Caribbean. Another track ride, this one takes you through different settings filled with animatronic pirates up to no good. This, like Haunted Mansion, seemed pretty much the same, with one major difference: the addition of Johnny Depp's Captain Jack Sparrow. Truly an animatronic marvel, Capt. Jack is so realistic, I was left wondering that maybe it wasn't actually animatronic, but a down-on-his-luck Skeet Ulrich instead. The last ride I remembered riding in my youth at Disneyland was the Jungle Cruise. This ride is worth riding if only for it's historic value. The ride has remained unchanged since it's inception in 1955, and as a result delves into unmitigated cheese. The tour guide on the river boat that takes you through the ride revels in it's cheesiness and delivers an unrelenting stream of bad puns that invites you to laugh at the rides silliness. Needless to say, I ate it up.

Megan and I rode many more track rides that I can't believe I didn't ride as a child. The most notable being Peter Pan's Flight, it's a small world, and Splash Mountain. Peter Pan was notable not only because the set and animatronics so meticulously captured the look and feel of the Peter Pan animated movie, but also because the car that takes you through the ride is suspended above it so you get to look down on the action below. "it's a small world" was notable, on the other hand, not for how fun it was, but rather by how annoying. I understand that at some point, I'll probably ride this "attraction" again with my kids, but it's not something I look forward to. I can admit that I appreciate the sentiment behind the ride, which preaches that no matter where we live or what we look like , we're all in this together. But the cutesy design of the animatronics and sets was so sweet, I almost went into insulin shock. And if ever hear that friggin' "it's a small world after all" refrain again, in any of the various languages it's repeated ad naseum throughout the ride, it will be too soon. Seriously, I can't believe I've never heard a report of one of the Disney workers for the ride going postal and smashing the crap out of the ride. I know I wanted to, and I was only around it for 10 minutes, let alone the whole day! Never one to let creepy animatronic children spoil my day, I did manage to get a kick out of Splash Mountain. My favorite part of the ride came not from the big, flume ride splash at the end, but from the animatronic Song of the South portion at the beginning. Song of the South was one of my favorite Disney movies of my childhood, long before I became aware what terms like "racial insensitivity" even meant. As a child, I had memorized nearly all the words to "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" and never gave it any thought that aspects of the film could be seen as racist. Therefore, it is sad to me that the animated characters from the film will never be seen by any generation after mine, aside from in this ride. On the same token, I can see why Disney is reluctant to re-issue a film with a character/foil for Br'er Rabbit called Tar Baby. Tar Baby, by the way, is no where to be seen on Splash Mountain, which is probably for the best, as I wouldn't want to even try to explain the metaphorical aspects of the term versus it's racial implications to the attraction's young riders. It was, however, a pleasant experience getting to revisit my childhood friends, if only as part of a theme park ride.

Spending most of the revisiting childhood memories was certainly a worthwhile experience, but what made our day at Magic Kingdom the most gratifying was riding the rides that had scared the bajeezus out of me to the point that I wouldn't even consider riding them as a child. These rides, while tame when compared to rides found at other parks, I would still categorize as thrill rides. The first was Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, a rollercoaster which simulates a runaway train. The design of the ride is pretty nifty, taking you through Old West-style towns and a deserted mine, but the actual ride is nothing to write home about. Even though a little girl in the car behind us didn't seem to think so, it's tame enough to be an almost all-ages ride. The other ride I took a pass on as a youth made for a much more exciting experience, and that's Space Mountain. In my mind, although it's pretty tame, Space Mountain stands alone as the Magic Kingdom's sole thrill ride that would be at home at almost any amusement park. Since the ride is almost completely in the dark it keeps it's riders off-balance and unexpectant on what's coming next. Plus, the design of the ride and it's space effects make me almost wish that I had ridden it when I was younger. I say almost, because it probably would have scared the crap out of me. Not necessarily literally scare the crap out of me, but you never know.

Aside from the rides, Megan and I took in several animatronic shows. We saw the The Enchanted Tiki Room (Under New Management), the Country Bear Jamboree, the Hall of Presidents, and the Carousel of Progress. The Tiki Room and the Country Bear Jamboree were decent, mildly entertaining, and had animatronics miles ahead of anything you'd see at ShowBiz Pizza Place or Chuck E Cheese's. That said, if you don't have kids, they're definitely not must-see attractions (your time would be better spent riding Space Mountain again). However, both the Hall of Presidents and Carousel of Progress are definitely worth you time. The Hall of Presidents features all 42 U.S. presidents in a truly amazing animatronic display. Each president moves, gestures, and even appears to breathe in an incredibly lifelike manner. President Lincoln and President G.W. Bush are especially impressive, as they have the most to say and do. Almost as impressive is the blatantly anti-racist message the pervades the display that proves propaganda can indeed be a positive force. Less impressive, but still cool in it's own way is the Carousel of Progress. The attraction was original created by Walt Disney himself for the 1964/65 World's Fair and was to highlight changes in technology in the modern household. To tell the story of technology's progression, the theatre itself actually rotated around a stage which displayed an American family enjoying state-of-the-art conveniences for their respective time periods of 1900s, 1920s, 1940s, and 1960s. Today, though, the 1960s family has been replaced by a 2000s family, and it makes the jump from the 40s kind of jarring. Still, the show features pretty impressive animatronics, and an undeniable charm. Unfortunately, it also features the second most annoying song I heard that day, "There's a Great Big Beautiful Tomorrow."

Once again, Megan and I left worn out but happy. Our enthusiasm for amusement parks was also beginning to wane. Not by much, mind you, but enough so that our visit to Disney-MGM Studios would be the shortest of any of our days spent at the parks.