“Welcome home!” says a broadly smiling, colorfully clad Disney World employee, sweeping the door open for me and my longtime friend/roommate/travel companion, Cayla Cohen.
Home? I think, attempting to neutralize my probably-too-judgy expression. A bit bold coming from a billion-dollar mega-corporation with no familial connection to me, but okay.
“Thanks!” I reply instead with a half-hearted grin and my last dregs of energy. For context, it’s 2 a.m., and I’m a recovering pessimist.
“Thank you so much!” Cayla says brightly as we shuffle our suitcases into the hotel lobby. She’s entirely unfazed. Then again, I don’t expect her to be—for Cayla, Disney does feel like home.
A mere four hours later, I jolt awake to my alarm and an uncharacteristically chipper Cayla, who is apparently only a morning person at Disney. I, a morning person nowhere, begrudgingly prepare myself for the long day ahead.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am happy to be here. I’m genuinely excited to spend time with my friend. I love seeing her happy, and this place makes her exactly that. Still, there’s a certain apprehension I can’t shake. Something about cramming thousands of sweaty people into a fabricated dreamland with one instruction — have fun! — rubs me the wrong way.
Before all the Disney lovers come after me:
1) I don’t actually hate it, even though it may sound like I do.
2) Hear me out. There may be a redemption arc in here somewhere.
Now that that’s over with, I present an observation conglomeration conceived from four open-to-close days in Mickey Mouse land. They are as follows:
Line Culture
If Disney can guarantee anything, it’s spending an exorbitant amount of time in line. That comes with theme park territory, but these are not your average queues. They’re twisting, discombobulating strands of people that snake through dim rooms and make it impossible to see the end. You typically shuffle along for an hour or more before reaching the actual ride, by which time you’ve either befriended or wanted to kill the family behind you.
Disney Families™
On that note, I would be remiss not to mention the majority of people comprising the lines: Disney Families™. By my definition, a Disney Family™ includes five or more people (at least three sugar-infused kids and two exhausted parents) all dressed as if Walt Disney himself sponsored their wardrobe. They’ve got it all — Mickey Mouse ears, cutesy matching shirts, backpacks with Disney characters and every kind of stuffed animal imaginable.
None of this is particularly problematic, though. The real fun only comes if you’re lucky enough to catch them at the right time, usually around mid-afternoon, when the kids start screaming. I don’t mean lightly crying, but actual belting that could rival Adele. Even Cayla’s evergreen enthusiasm turns to annoyance in the presence of a Disney Family™ belter.
Magic
Even if you’re not a fan, you likely already know that Disney World’s slogan is “the most magical place on Earth.” A few days there proved the company’s commitment to that statement. They treat everything like a production, from “cast members” (employees) to “backstage” (areas off-limits to guests). When the parks open every day, it’s called a “rope drop,” and employees wear “costumes,” not uniforms. Our first behind-the-scenes glimpse happens when Cayla and I first arrive, and we witness a painting crew working at two in the morning.
“They won’t do it during the day,” she says. “That would ruin the magic.”
Power And Influence
It’s no secret that the Walt Disney Company has its hooks in countless aspects of American culture beyond just the parks. A whole slew of products, streaming services, content groups and television networks all fall under its jurisdiction. Disney World wants you to know this, too. One of the parks, Hollywood Studios, is essentially a giant advertisement for Disney media, and the buses are lined with ads featuring various current and upcoming projects. You wouldn’t necessarily think of ABC, Hulu, ESPN and National Geographic as Disney offshoots, but they are. One lunch at the ABC Commissary, where I sat directly across from a massive Grey’s Anatomy poster, solidified that in my mind.
The takeaway? When it comes to entertainment, Disney has to be the one entertaining.
——
In the simplest sense, there are two kinds of fun: the kind you seek out and the kind that happens naturally. I’ve always preferred the idea of making my own fun rather than relying on a specific place or thing for entertainment, which is why I tend to bristle in settings like Disney World. I like to create my own experience rather than relying on a manufactured one.
That said, my experience at Disney World surprised and humbled me more than I expected. I had a good time. Despite my jaded perspective, I genuinely had fun. Long lines were opportunities for enriching conversations, the Disney Families™ actually had some pretty cute kids and I had fun believing in magic for a little while. I got to spend quality time with my friend in the place she loves most, and seeing her happy made me happy.
So yes, the possibility of me sporting Mickey ears anytime soon is slim. But who knows? As Walt Disney once said, “It’s kind of fun to do the impossible.”
