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A Curmudgeon's Guide to the Happiest Place on Earth

As I am shuffled through a dark, narrow tunnel by faceless attendants, my claustrophobia escalates from a minor issue to a big problem.  My two children, unnaturally calm husband, and myself are then gently transported in oversized seashells through yet another curving, dark tunnel featuring dancing images of Nemo and Dory. I manage to quell my rising panic attack. Welcome to “The Happiest Place on Earth”!

If you are considering a family trip to the Walt Disney World (WDW) theme parks located in and around Orlando, Florida, read on. If, however, you expect a cheerful litany of helpful hints, think again. My impressions of the parks and the quality of Disney’s cuisine, lodging, and service are rendered with a gimlet eye: No detail escapes my hyper-vigilant worldview. I do admire Disney’s vision, and the organization is engaged in wonderful endeavors. But I would be remiss if I did not also point out the less sunny side of WDW.

It IS a “small world,” after all, until you are overwhelmed by hordes of people marching resolutely through a maze of neatly kept streets pushing doublewide strollers as they munch incessantly on huge roasted turkey legs. Then, the world feels even smaller.
During the water-borne ride of the same name, you glide smoothly through rooms populated with cherubic, relentlessly happy animatronic dolls, whose environments and personae have been updated several times since they debuted 50 years ago at California’s Disneyland.

The smiling, singing dolls and their equally sunny animal companions represent nearly every ethnic group and nationality, each engaged in pursuits for which they are known. Female Turkish dolls belly-dance; an Australian aboriginal youth waves happily, his faithful dingo dog wagging away at his side; and fair-haired German children dance methodically in their dirndls and leiderhosen. The final room depicts the world population phenotype after the thorough intermingling of the global gene pool: a homogeneous, pleasing conglomeration sporting white-blond straight locks and slightly dusky complexions that dwells in cold, Scandinavian climes ideal for enjoying Nordic-based activities such as spelunking, skiing, and straddling mountain goats.

At the African-themed Jambo Lodge (located in the Animal Kingdom Lodge area), the majority of the employees hail from such countries as Botswana, Zimbabwe, and South Africa with their name badges announcing their country of origin. Every service person we encountered was courteous and genuinely friendly, from the “Mousekeeper” who cleaned our room daily to the restaurant waitstaff.

The package prices for Disney are steep; everything you consume and do has a considerable markup attached to it. Admittedly, you can stay at a more luxurious hotel for the same price, but it probably won’t be kid friendly and will be located further away from the Disney action. The meal plan uses up a lot of meal points for the fancier and tastier fare, but also covers the basics. Our room was compact. The kids shared a bunk bed, and the husband and I slept in the full-size bed. The two clothing drawers were promptly co-opted by the husband, so the kids and I had to sift through our suitcases on the floor. The double sinks made up for this irritating shortcoming.

The best part of the room, the coup de grâce, the high point? From our balcony, we could gaze in wonder at graceful giraffes and herds of zebras as they lingered in the “savanna” below. Until we told them sternly to knock it off, my children became experts at identifying repeatedly—and loudly—the ever-popular Somali wild ass.

Sure, my kids whined (confession: so did I), and we all got tired. The husband maintained a steely focus as he channeled The Great Santini to plan our schedule down to the minute. “At 10:45 AM, ‘It’s Tough to be a Bug’; then the Dumbo ride; then the manic comedy stylings of the wacky characters of ‘Monsters, Inc.’; followed by Disney (animatronic) birds celebrating the Brazilian rainforest; topped off by more fake but highly realistic jungle animals on a Wild Safari; and finally, let me mop up your tears of exhaustion and frustration with napkins from Friar Tuck’s Ye Olde Hot Dogge Stande.”

It is easy to fall into the trap of trying to see and do everything because the price is steep and you naturally want to get your money’s worth. At more than one dinner my spent children wept with abandon over their untouched chicken nuggets as the husband and I contentedly sipped from our glasses of fine South African syrahs.

Another valuable lesson learned? Patience. WDW is about waiting. Waiting to use a public bathroom; waiting to eat; waiting to enjoy a ride; waiting for the shuttle to return you to your hotel at the end of a very long day. Nothing comes easy. By dinnertime, I felt like a cavewoman who, after fruitlessly hunting and foraging all day with little yield, was finally rewarded with the ultimate big kill: The delicious nightly dinner buffet at Boma featuring a multitude of African-inspired dishes. In other words, you feel as if you’ve earned your food, a rare sentiment in today’s world of easily accessible meals and snacks.

My 7-year-old daughter has outgrown the princesses and cartoon characters that live in the Magic Kingdom, which has a decidedly old-timey Main Street feel.  My 5-year-old son openly rebelled at the prospect of waiting in line to meet Tinkerbell, an outright affront to his burgeoning masculinity. None of us felt an affinity for the well-manicured beds of colorful flowers and barbershop quartets.

On the other hand, we all loved the Animal Kingdom. Disney has created a conservation oasis for elephants, big cats, exotic birds, and apes, many of which roam freely (but safely, of course). Workers here are happy to share their extensive knowledge about the animals. As you walk through the streets of re-created “cities,” you absorb the sights, sounds and smells of countries such as Thailand and Kenya. Disney has thoughtfully designed these re-creations with the utmost respect. Most importantly, Animal Kingdom (and Epcot) serve alcohol to frazzled adults 21 and older, whereas the Magic Kingdom is dry.

Take note of the heartwarming, little things as you navigate your way through Disney’s many attractions. Some employees have minor disabilities. Others are elderly and perhaps retired from earlier careers. Everyone is naturally friendly and helpful. They never make it feel like an act, which is either an ingenious marketing tool or the result of thoughtful hiring practices. Disney’s global and local conservation efforts are also admirable. And one more thing: seeing your children happy and enjoying yourself right along with them ultimately makes all the walking, waiting and whining worth it.

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