Much has been written lately about Disneyworld’s 40th Anniversary, officially observed at the park with a ceremony at Cinderella’s Castle on October 1st. On the USA Today site, I found news photos of various “suits” onstage with Mickey and Minnie, along with a far more telling one of a line of “guests” outside of a Main Street bakery that stretched down the street, all of them waiting for a 40th Anniversary cupcake. The endless queue was a familiar sight.
Surfing on to the DisneyParks blog site, I also found a rather charming commemorative map of the original Magic Kingdom that brought back memories of my own first trip to Disneyworld, back when I was a teenager and recent Florida transplant living in Miami. Sometime in those first few years the park was open, my family made the pilgrimage for a vacation that was, in fact, quite magical. (At that time, an adult admission ticket was $3.50. One also had to purchase ride tickets, which were sold in booklets of 7 for $4.75 or 11 for $5.75.)
We were all dazzled by the park. The Contemporary Hotel, where we stayed, had a monorail running through it; we couldn’t get enough of that. We even rode in the front compartment with the driver, who let us push the “Start” button — wowza! The closest analogous experience for us as a family was the 1964 World’s Fair, but that wasn’t nearly so kid-centric. Looking at the original park map, I remember some of our favorites: The Tropical Serenade at the Sunshine Pavilion, the Country Bear Jamboree, the Haunted Mansion, and Peter Pan’s Flight. (The Carousel of Progress, with it’s anthemic theme song, “The Best Time of Your Life”, would come later.)
Over the years, there were subsequent trips to the ever-growing Disney Empire, along with a marked diminishment of that initial enthusiasm. When my husband and I found ourselves living in closer proximity to the parks in the ’80’s, with two young sons, we even splurged on various season pass deals for Florida residents. But then, a funny thing happened: the boys themselves became jaded. The wonderment was gone. (My own personal Waterloo was probably when we were stuck in the “It’s A Small World” ride, endlessly moored in the “Arctic” room. There was no music playing, just the audible clacking of the jaws of each animatronic Eskimo in the room as they repeated their mechanical pivots and gestures endlessly.)
I think that for all four of us, there was a certain psychic toll. Ours were pack-a-PBJ day trips, so while we spent but a fraction of what an out-of-state family might, the “cost” of Disney entertainment was meted out in the miles of hot pavement we trudged, the carefully designed queues we endured, and the ever-present crowd factor that spawned a new science: that of guerrilla park tactics. And the carefully-engineered, sterile sameness.
Our sons, Floridians by birth, are grown now. In their twenties, they are both roller coaster fanatics who are happy to visit and revisit every theme park in our area that features a great ride. Ben even had a good run as a Busch Gardens employee, working backstage during the run of a skating show and the African-themed Katonga at the Moroccan Palace. He and his brother are fascinated as well by the science of “entertainment design”: the aesthetic aspect of park attractions. They’re keen to experience every new enhancement, most recently the Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Universal Orlando. But if you were to ask them about some of their favorite Florida experiences, their answers might reference our many adventures visiting PRE-Disney tourist attractions. Nowadays, when they visit with their respective partners, it’s always with the desire to share some favorite off-the-beaten-track experiences, along with the latest roller coaster thrills.
In subsequent blogs, I hope to mine my own memory bank, and theirs, to pay tribute to the Florida that got left behind: trampled into dust by what ultimately became a mouse of proportions worthy of a Japanese sci-fi horror flick. (Mousera?) It is a sad story, all the more present to me now with the opening in one week of yet another theme park franchise, Legoland, on the same beautifully landscaped lakefront property in Winter Haven that was once home to a classic and storied attraction: Cypress Gardens. Perhaps there will still be Southern Belle there in a hoop skirt with a parasol, a friendly smile, and a wave. Perhaps, just maybe, she will not be animatronic.
Thank you to Carl Knickerbocker, whose wonderful paintings have much to say about Central Florida then and now, for allowing me to use one of his mini-paintings from my collection for this post.
http://www.carlknickerbocker.com/
Original Disneyworld Map:
