A Spectacular Day in Acceptanceland

Rob grew up within spittin’ distance of Disneyland (well, if Walt allowed such ungentlemanly behavior). One of our early dates was to Disneyland. In fact, it was at the park’s gate where I first met my future father-in-law. He took a picture of me and Rob, presumably to show the rest of the family what Rob’s new girlfriend looked like. I never have seen that picture. Given Dad’s photo sharing track record, there’s a really good chance nobody else in the family has either.

Given the park’s proximity, many family visits over the years have included days hanging out with Mickey and the Gang. The last time I went was in August 1998. My sister-in-law and I spent a fantastically fun day leisurely browsing in all the shops that ride-hungry husbands, brothers, and friends rarely had patience for. I’m not sure Beth and I went on any rides at all that day. Had I known that was going to be my very last chance to ever go on the Matterhorn or Space Mountain, I’m sure I would have foregone the yeehaw westerny shops in Frontierland for one last wiggly jiggly spin around the Alps. But I was steeped in denial about my occasional back pain and youthfully naïve that it might develop into something much bigger than I never imagined. So we shopped our little hearts out. I still have the red Mickey Mouse sunglasses I bought that day.

Fast-forward almost 14 years, 2 back surgeries, and a fused spine later and we come to Tuesday, January 31, 2012. The day I finally gathered the guts to find out if Disneyland is still the Happiest Place on Earth when you can’t go on most of the rides. The day I purposefully tested that I am finally mature enough to be able to enjoy watching other people do things I can’t. Yes, I do that to some extent every day, but roller coasters are different. I LOVE roller coasters. Or at least I used to. I have no idea now. But you know what? I’m ok with that. Blissfully, happily, gratefully OK with that! Yes, it’s official. I’m a Grown Up!!

It was a magical day. I bounced in my seat like a giddy 8-year-old as we entered the parking garage. I made Rob pose with me for at least 10 pictures before we even entered the gates. We arrived just as the park opened, by my request. As a kid, I LOVED being among the first to arrive, in time to see the sidewalks still wet from their final hose-down. I was happy to see a few stray puddles on Tuesday morning.

Our first stop was the Astro Blaster ride/game based on Buzz Lightyear from “Toy Story.” Very back-friendly, you sit in a space ship and aim a laser gun at different targets as you travel through the ride. Rob and I agreed we would not take advantage of the tantalizing but jarring “Spin” feature to better aim our rocket. It was a ton of fun and I thought I did pretty well considering I had never played the game before. Then I saw Rob’s score. Rob, who had also never been on the ride before, beat my score by nearly a factor of 10. I so did not get the Video Game Gene.

Dad and I then browsed in a store while Rob and Nancy went on Star Tours. I was proudly wearing my new personalized Mickey Ears when they emerged post-Tour. I wore the Ears all day, including at dinner at the House of Blues outside the park. I was the only person in the restaurant, children included, who was wearing Mickey Ears or any type of novelty Disney hat. Had I not been afraid of breaking the ears or bending the adorable wire tail, I would have slept in them. I LOVE my Mickey Ears!! Ok, so not entirely a Grown Up.

The rest of the day, we went on a few rides, happily walked past a lot more, shopped a little, and ate a lot. We marveled at how empty the park was. We walked right into the Haunted Mansion, and immediately boarded the boat for the Jungle Cruise. Our longest wait in Disneyland…aside from the train which we boarded as soon as it arrived…was for the Alice in Wonderland ride. We waited maybe 10 caterpillar’s worth before it was our turn to tumble down the rabbit hole.

Mid-afternoon, we went over to California Adventure. There were no signs of it in 1998. In fact, it was Disneyland’s parking lot back then. On Tuesday, a big chunk of the Adventure seemed to be under construction, but we were still able to enjoy a few rides and a delicious corn dog. (Thanks for the tip, Carolynn!!)

We went on the big Ferris wheel (wisely opting for a non-swinging car) and went Under the Sea with Ariel. We got our only Fast Pass of the day for the Soaring Over California ride. It’s basically an IMAX movie of California scenery viewed from a hanging seat a la hang glider. With my back limitations in mind, people have been describing this ride to me for over a decade. And it was exactly as promised. My only complaint was that I wanted it to last longer. Having lived in California for nearly 30 years, I had a lot of fun trying to identify the various places in the movie. There was one spot I couldn’t nail so I asked Rob. “That’s the desert,” he offered authoritatively. Yeah, thanks, Rob. He apparently didn’t know either.

Rob’s 20-year-old brother arrived in time to join Rob on what looked like a spectacular roller coaster called California Screamin’. Rob described it as “pretty good” which translated means, “WOW – that was a lot of fun and I’d go again but I feel bad you can’t go and I don’t want to make it sound like you missed anything.” I really wish he’d gone again.

Perhaps the most amusing ride, though, was the very first one. After watching the rocket ships in Tomorrowland zoom rather slowly in a circle and shift up and down purely at the whim of the front rider, I decided my back could easily handle the ride. Dad and Nancy agreed to go with us. They chose a rocket behind us so I couldn’t see what was going on with them, but from where Rob and I attempted to sit, it was a comedy of adult proportions.

Turns out those rockets weren’t really built for two adults. I got in first (probably a mistake) and tried to scrunch to the front as much as possible. Rob folded himself behind me, legs and arms hanging out, lots of banging against the metal, stares from the short line waiting their turn, much laughter all around. We finally got ourselves wedged in there, including just enough room for my purse, when the attendant came by and instructed us to fasten the seat belt. Seat belt? There was a seat belt? Yes, we were sitting on it and thus had to unwedge ourselves to find and fasten it. Truly, we were going nowhere with or without the belt. But rules are rules.

We hydraulicked around, me taking pictures, Rob going numb from the hips down. When the ride finally came to a stop, I ambled very ungracefully out of the ship, Rob awkwardly behind me. We found Nancy waiting for us outside the exit. Turns out she and Dad had a similar entry experience and gave up trying to fit both of them in the tiny rocket. Dad had orbited while Nancy watched from Earth. Ah, the advantage of being older and wiser.

I waited about a half-hour before I mentioned anything to Rob. You see, when I exited the rocket, I hopped and twisted and heard bones popping and was overcome by an adrenaline rush of fear that I had just wrenched my back or popped a disc or snapped a titanium rod. After concluding through the passage of time that I had in fact done none of those things, I mentioned to Rob that I was fine but had apparently popped some bones in my back on the rocket ships. He said, “Oh, that popping noise? No, that was my knee.” Yeah, waaaay too old to be trying that ride ever again.

With two hours to go before the parks closed, we said good-bye to Rob’s family and headed back into Disneyland for some final shopping. It was dark and the park was coming alive with LED toys and necklaces. Ropes were being set up for a parade. Sleeping Beauty’s Castle was aglow in pink lights. I immediately remembered how much I love amusement parks at night…when the strollers have left and the pace is slower and there’s a mystery in not being able to see everything in the darkness.

I asked Rob if he was willing to do one last ride, a ride I desperately wanted to do but had been thinking better of it all day due to a couple of short waterfalls. With some discussion and commiseration that doing it as the last ride was the smartest approach, we headed to the Pirates of the Caribbean.

Much like the entire day, we walked right on, no waiting. We had an entire row to ourselves and the boats ahead and behind were empty. Thanks to a good grip on the safety bar and some strong quadriceps, I lifted myself off the seat just enough going down the water falls to let my legs absorb the bumps instead of my back. And then I sat comfortably, snuggled against Rob, and breathed in the magic and humidity of the dark and dangerous piratey world. It was perfect. Well, aside from the distracting animatronics of Johnny Depp interspersed here and there. Yo ho, Jack Sparrow and brilliant Disney marketers.

We headed back to the main entrance to leave the park for dinner, paralleling a dancey parade. As we approached the last souvenir kiosk just below the train tracks, I slowed and grabbed Rob’s arm and pulled him closer. I silently reflected on all the times I had walked past that Last Chance souvenir stand: as a kid with her parents, clutching a new Minnie Mouse doll; as a college student with her roommates, finally not nauseous from the epic Tea Cup spinning; as a 22-year-old with the man she hoped to marry; as a 30-year-old having no clue she had just ridden her last roller coaster; and now as a 44-year-old who discovered that, like just about anything else in life, Disneyland is what you make of it. Wherever you are in life, whatever your limitations might be, Disneyland truly is the Happiest Place on Earth if you let it be.