The One with the Texan Family

*These few blogs are in honor of my approaching Disney move date.

Most families have an indescribably good time at the Walt Disney World Resort. Most families have unbeatable bonding experiences and memorable Kodak moments to take home from a vacation in the most magical place on Earth. My family doesn’t vacation like most families...

There are hundreds of attractions to hit up when in Disney World. There are shows, both 3-D and regular dimensioned, rides, parades shops and then some—to the point of almost overload. As a nine-year-old, all of these things are absolutely necessary to have the most fun possible. Miss the Magic Kingdom parade? Trip’s ruined! Aladdin leave before you got an autograph? Just go home now!

Rides are probably the most important and plentiful as you explore the four parks. Each one, even the baby rides like Dumbo and Cinderella’s Carousel, are a new adventure awaiting you—of course only after you’ve waited in a two hour long line in the blistering sun. Like any theme park, there are height requirements and warnings against people with heart, back and neck problems and other various ailments. When traveling with two senior citizens, checking off these problems is all too upsetting when deciding what is ride-able.

There was no way they were going to let me wait in line for an hour-and-a-half all alone. My grandpa came around for me and joined me on some good rides like Splash Mountain but when it came to Thunder Mountain he thought he should sit it out. What was their brilliant plan to get me on the ride? Pawn me off to some strange family, of course.

My grandma picked out what she thought looked like the friendliest family about to get in line for the ride. It was a family of four, mom, dad, son and daughter. They were all tall with reddish-blond hair and thick southern accents; "Howdy, y’all” was not a greeting I was accustomed to up north. Despite my insisting this ride was no longer necessary (or at least not worth this), I begged my grandma not to ask the nice people to watch me for the length of the line and ride. The mother of the group welcomed me over to them like Mickey at the gates of the Magic Kingdom—lots of excited arm waving and an immovable smile. Dragging my new white Keds against the clean brick road, I was pushed right into the line with my new family for the next 90 minutes.

“Oh my gawd, quit pokin’ me or I’ll git you back!” shrieked the sister. She was a little older than me and much taller with what appeared to be a bowl haircut. The poker, her brother, was about my height and a little younger. I stood between the parents and kids just waiting for the ride to be over. Mom kept nudging for conversation and the daughter seemed to love having another ear around. She kept telling me all these stories about her life back in Texas and all her "friends." She went on, “So some of my friends have like this secret society and they were like ‘Y’all can’t join’. And I was like ‘What do you mean?’ And they were like ‘Y’all aren’t allowed in our society.’”

Meanwhile, my queue line-brother was chomping some sort of candy. He of course chewed with his mouth open so I could watch every piece of candy crumble away. “Offer her some’a yer candy!” demanded Mom. “Ya want some?” he asked with a mouth full of colored bits, “It’s Lion King bug candy. Each one’s a different color. Watch. This one makes my mouth turn green.” His mouth was in fact now green. “This one makes my mouth turn purple.” Purple it was.

Each shrill voice went in one ear, crashed into the other voice and exploded in my head. The daughter continued, “They said I had to wear all white and had to complete their missions but I was like ‘Y’all are crazy. I ain’t doin’ that.’ So I didn’t,” while little brother showed me how red his mouth could get if he ate more than one candy at a time. Eternity eventually ended and we got on the ride. Thunder Mountain is an awesome ride and well worth the wait, but well worth being adopted for a while by this freaky family of four? I could have gone without.

The next time my family and I went to the magical land of Mickey, my grandfather, now 70-years-old, rode the Tower of Terror ride and didn’t even crack a smile…

The One with the Duck

On Christmas morning when a young child opens there big presents from Santa Clause, sometimes they just like the giant box their bicycle or toy kitchen came in. That is the feeling my family got from my sister and I when we were more excited about the ducks at the bus stop than the world of magic around us.

Disney provides an excellent source of reliable transportation to and from the parks and resorts on their grounds. Not to mention the adorable wild life that roams free around the area. For some reason, at every bus stop we waited at there were ducks that like to hang out and wait with us as if Donald sent them himself to keep us company. We would feed them crackers and take pictures while not so anxiously awaiting the bus to Animal Kingdom—where giraffes and elephants are but an arm’s length away. The ducks just enthralled our attention and we couldn’t get enough. “Oh look Jessie! That one just ruffled his feathers. Let’s call him Charlie,” my sister exclaimed.

Once we got to the parks, the rides, the shows and parades reclaimed our attention to our family’s enjoyment. The other more exotic birds were just as exciting to us with their colorful wings and one leg stands; and the non-winged creatures were fun too. A safari took us through a replica of an African wildlife reserve and we got to see zebras, antelope and lions that my sister insisted were Simba and Nala themselves. As the night came to an end, we found ourselves waiting in line for the night time spectacular Fantasmic—a fireworks show infused with water, fire and lasers.
Just like all other attraction in Disney the line for this show was at least two hours long. Thankfully, the wait was well worth it. As you enter the giant stadium, we were escorted to the front row. In front of us was just a railing and then a large man-made lake topped with a realistic mountain. All of us were amazed by the unbelievable set-up we were looking at. Around the corner of the mountain, my sister and I caught a glimpse of the secret backstage action when out of nowhere, a duck floated by. “Jessie! Jessie, it’s a ducky!” my sister screamed.

As the sun was setting over the magnificent mountain range in front of us, we were yet again enchanted by a duck. We decided to name this little guy Ferdinand. He swam back and forth in the water, dipping under every so often and flittering his feathers. Soon the lights dimmed, Mickey appeared and the real show was about to begin. Still, out of the corner of our eyes, we could still see Ferdinand swimming around the edge of the mountain. Water shot up in sheet like forms and videos were projected onto them at Mickey’s command. Then the all powerful mouse decided to summon some fire. The entire lake, just 20 feet in front of us, became engulfed in flames.

“Ooh, aah,” the audience sighed in amazement. My sister’s eyes lit up with joy and the reflection of the flames. And then we remembered—Ferdinand. “Oh my God. Where did Ferdinand go?” I asked my sister. “He was just right there,” she assured me. But he wasn’t there anymore. As the flames died down, there was nothing left but rippling water and no sign of our duck friend. We don’t know if Ferdinand made it out safely and we never will; but we will always remember the night we saw a duck burn to a crisp at Disney World.

The One with the Fib

Most families have an indescribably good time in Disney. Most families have unbeatable bonding experiences and memorable, Kodak moments to take home from a vacation in the most magical place on Earth. My family doesn’t vacation like most families.

In 2003, my whole family flew south for school vacation. This was my third trip to Disney World and my parents’ and sister’s first. My dad hates crowds, my mom hates confined spaces and not being next to a pool for several hours, my sister has motion sickness and is allergic to everything but Minnie Mouse, my grandfather had just turned 70 and my grandma considers Pirates of the Caribbean an all out thrill ride.

Much to my expectations, the family wasn’t too into my detailed itinerary and enjoyed more of a, “let’s just sit on a bench eating ice cream and watch other people have fun” sort of approach. Attempting a ride or attraction led to my sister throwing up, my grandma flirting with Prince Charming and my grandfather feeding an alligator a hot dog—apparently, to my grandfather, the giant “DO NOT FEED THE ANIMALS” sign read, “We like hot dogs, extra mustard.”

Sometimes, to get people to do things, you need to stretch the truth a little. A tiny cricket told Pinocchio that lying bad—that cricket obviously never took a trip to Disney with a difficult family. As we ran through Frontier Land in the Magic Kingdom, my sister and I saw the one thing more exciting than a rare sighting of Donald Duck—a short line for Splash Mountain. On average, this water ride has one of the longest wait times. When you see a line shorter than two hours, you ride Splash Mountain that very moment. My mother had avoided almost every ride, wishing she were by our hotel’s pool instead. She had promised us all that she would at least go on this family friendly-log ride style attraction. As my sister, father and I sprinted to the end of the line, my mom veered off saying she needed to go to the bathroom first. “Peter, I really have to go,” she told my father with a stern look. “But this is a line that leads to the bathrooms,” my father blatantly lied. “I thought they were--” my mother was cut off as my father said, “No really this way. Hurry, the line is moving.”

We hopped into the line and as other people hurried to catch up with us, my mother noticed that maybe we weren’t in line for the bathroom after all. “Peter, where are we going?” she asked. He comforted my mother with, “Oh don’t worry. We’ll be on and off the ride before you know it”