We had a good day with the Mouse. We arrived about 30 minutes before the box office opened, were directed to an easy parking space on the lot (NOT in the structure!), and the lines to buy tickets and enter the park were the ONLY ones we had to deal with for the first 90 minutes there.
In that first 90 minutes, with little to no lines, we managed to ride five of the park's most popular attractions: the Haunted House, Pirates of the Caribbean, Splash Mountain, Thunder Mountain and Buzz Lightyear. Even after the park filled up, starting around 10, it was never as crowded as I expected on a holiday weekend. This might have something to do with the weather, which was overcast and coolish -- which I find a plus for a Disney day. Or it may be due to the fact that there are currently billboards all over SoCal announcing Disneyland Christmas festivities -- beginning next weekend. I even asked my daughter if she wouldn't rather wait, because the park is so pretty during the holidays. Her answer -- obviously -- was "no."
And I'm so glad I listened to her. Park employees have gotten a head start on the holiday decorations. The halls and faux streets are already decked with boughs of holly and all kinds of sparkly ornamentation. The Haunted House still sports the Nightmare Before Christmas makeover I raved about when I visited in October (how convenient that it works for two holidays), so I was happy to be able to share that with my husband and daughter. And It's a Small World has already converted to its holiday version, where that incessant bloody song gets broken up with both Deck the Halls and Jingle Bells, which makes it infinitely more bearable.
A few words about It's a Small World: Like most normal people, I wanted NOTHING to do with this ride from the moment I hit adolescence on through my 30's, but always had to go on it because my mother -- or my grandmother -- whichever older gen family member I was with -- would insist.
The preciousness of it all -- the doll-like robotic "children" dancing in national costumes to that insipid song that gets in your head and stays there like some subliminal memory bomb; the idea that we can attain peace on earth simply by bringing the children of the world together for a song and dance... well, I hated this ride, both emotionally and intellectually. LOATHED it. And vowed that I would never drag my children on it.
And then I had a child. And suddenly, the tame, gentle rides of FantasyLand were no longer ironic re-enactments of my own childhood, but a chance to experience it anew through her eyes. I remember one January, when Megan was two years old. I had just finished a grueling week managing a convention away from home. The three months leading up to that convention had been all long hours and stress; I have no memory of the holidays that year because I worked through them. Now it was over and I just wanted to celebrate with my baby girl. (My husband -- who had to take up the slack when I was out of town on business -- needed to catch up on his own work.)
So what did I do? I grabbed the baby and the stroller and went to Disneyland, for the day.
As she was not yet three years old, admission for her was free, so it wasn't as expensive a whim as it sounds. But I discovered, to my dismay, that there weren't a lot of rides I was able to take her on (which explains why a park that charges adult prices beginning at age 10 lets infants in for free. They don't miss a trick over there). About the only one that worked for us that day was -- you guessed it -- It's a Small World. And so, for the first time since I started going to the park on my own, I got on that ride.
The younger me used to joke that people lose any coolness they once had the moment the children arrive. In my case, that's definitely true, because once I rode Small World with a baby on my lap (who was mesmerized by all the bright lights and dancing "chidren"), I discovered that I kind of liked it. Especially as that January, it still had all its Christmas decorations. As cliche as it sounds, it was MAGICAL. I had walked into the park that day, tired and dragging after a hard week and walked out of that ride feeling happy and full of life.
In this respect anyway, I had officially become my mother (which frightens the hell out of me, but there you have it).
So when I saw the Santa hat on the clock face outside the ride, I REALLY wanted to experience that again. But Megan is now 11 and so is already too cool for THAT. And I've already mentioned here how my husband feels about EVERYTHING Disney. I really had to threaten cajole them into going with me.
I think the only thing my husband ended up appreciating about Small World on this visit is that it's a LONG ride, approximately 15 minutes (after all, it takes a while to cruise through all seven continents in the world). This is of extreme importance after six or seven hours of walking and standing in line on concrete. You start looking for ways to rest your feet. Now that I am middle aged, I understand the popularity of Disney diversions like the parades and live shows, which take you away from your goal of getting on as many rides as possible in your allotted time at the park. I never watch them, but do make note of their times, because I figure that's when the lines for the nearest hot attraction will be the shortest.
But I did accidentally get to see some of the park's current Fantasy parade, which passed by the Bulimia Boats (otherwise known as the Mad Hatter's Tea Party attraction) while we were there. What I saw of it was impressive, with elaborate floats depicting scenes from The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast and Pinocchio, and beautifully costumed dancers putting on a real show. I understand why some people would want to see the parades without the added benefit of resting their feet. I'm just not there yet.
But I wasn't above sending my husband and daughter off to Tom Sawyer's Island without me (hey -- traipsing around in the wilderness -- even a pretend wilderness -- just isn't my thing). So I parked myself on the edge of a planter facing the "Rivers of the World," for a blissful 30 minutes and did some people watching.
And that's where I had this Disney epiphany: The thing that makes the Disney parks so special is the Silly Hats. I think it's the only place in the world where people of all ages, ethnicity, political persuasion, etc. can wear a Silly Hat without feeling self-conscious.
It has always been so. Even when I was a kid, a visit to Disneyland was not complete until my parents bought me a hat (preferably, with my name embroidered with golden thread on the back). You didn't have as many choices back then: your basic black mouse ears (and a girl's edition with a pink foam bow on top), a Robin Hood model with a feather, a Three Musketeers-type hat that also sported a feather. But it was the beginning of a tradition. Today, there must be about 100 different kinds of silly hats sold at the park, and wearing them is part of the fun.
For thirty minutes, I watched leather-clad bikers in Goofy caps, dads sporting Pirate hats, a bevy of young women in sequined mouse-ears, a couple of tattoed punks (complete with safety pin piercings -- is that actually coming back?) with Mickey-eared Santa hats, etc. At the point I realized I should take out my camera and start documenting this phenomenon, it stopped. (I wouldn't have had the courage to ask them for permission to take their pictures and post them on Flickr anyway; especially the guys with the safety pins. They looked a little scary.)
So I did the next best thing: I asked Megan to try on some silly hats at the Mad Hatter shop in Fantasyland so I could photograph her. OK, I told her I would buy her one. But who am I to buck tradition?
