Apr

18

 Most families make the journey to DisneyWorld or Disneyland soon after they judge that "the kids are old enough now." "You haven't been to DisneyWorld?!" has the force of a shaming epithet in elementary school peer groups. Parents who have not "made the trip" are often considered poor providers.

I have concluded that Disney is a deep threat to American society. Visiting these parks is a training system for the America-to-come (and other countries where the movement has gained traction)…an America I don't think I will like.

Disney visits teach two things:

1. be an observer, not a participant …. a Disney trip is way down on the interactive scale, most "rides" are passive excursions through a terrain or story or experience over which the guest has virtually no control or input. And

2. how to wait in line politely and passively for long periods of time with tethered, exhausted, sugared children tugging on the parent…perhaps an apt experience for preparing us to endure the DMV or the post office

Disney's contribution is to make this otherwise awful experience into something that cannot be passed up. The best people mover of all time consults other companies and organizations on crowd management and control.

Is there a place for Disney in fighting terrorism?

Rocky Humbert writes: 

 I thought the original post about Disney was tongue-in-cheek — as it left me ROFL — but I'm starting to wonder whether it was a serious anarcho-anti-establishment rant?

Without opining on the misery of standing in queues under the Florida sun, Disney sells a professional, well engineered, family-friendly entertainment product. It is difficult to fault their franchise, execution and profitability. I have found critics of Disney are the same folks who hate the American Flag, Mcdonalds, baseball and apple pie. That Disney has a slightly left of center political bias is a reflection of its market research rather than agenda — I am certain that they would shift their bias quickly if it suited their profitability.

I have not been to a Disney park in many years, but it is a right of passage for most every parent with young children. My memory of it was pleasant. My primary complaints about the experience were the cost and the food quality.

If you are going there to glean a deep understanding of history, science, environmental studies, etc., it will be disappointing But if you are going there to have your youngsters smile and not be exposed to vulgarity, profanity and things that many of us consider the dark side of the work, then it is a great place.

Again, every detail of their product is micro managed and they should be saluted, not pilloried, for providing consumers an interactive product that they want and pay for. Good luck to the parents of young children who think they should go "rock climbing." See you at the ER.

Russ Sears writes: 

While I concur with Rocky's sentiments that Disney leaning left is most likely due to the leaderships belief that the left will win the future. What bothers me is not the left or right side of their politics but their marketing preference towards girls and capturing a large segment of the young girls and their mothers. I have only daughters and they loved Disney. But when 60% of the college graduating class is female, and 40% is male, a figure that was reverse in the male chauvinistic 70's, it hurts to think that the young boys' futures are so bleak that Disney doesn't market too strongly to boys or their fathers and knows where the future is. While it maybe the future, is such an accelerating trend sustainable for the next 30 years or is there a limit to how bad this can get?

Jim Lackey writes: 

 Disney world is fantastic. It is expensive, yet worth it. There are some good points that strong women and some men point out. Life is not a fairy tale and you're not a princess. However, once that statement is out of the way the experience is best if you look at it as purely entertainment and have fun.

Nothing for the boys? My best memories are when my dad said: NO RACING this vacation son! We are going to Florida. I am taking your sister to Disney. Your brother wants to do the water park. Son, I want to fish in the Keys. It is your job to navigate. Here is the map, the compass and my cc card. Plan the trip. P.S your sister will refuse to stay in a hotel without a diving board. Your mother needs, we need, for your mother to have a car and a place to shop. Love Dad.

Yes, that was a note he was off to work 7/12's to raise the funding for the trip.

I lived in Fla from July 91 until June 2006. In that 15 years I went to Disney countless times. We also hit Busch gardens, when Budweiser still owned it. I had fond memories of that park from a kid. It wasn't in the parking lot of the ball park of Disney. Once a year I was kicking and screaming about a summer Disney trip, again for my wife and small children. My wife set me up. She had paid for a full day of me driving the Richard Petty driving experience (12-1 compression aaah about 550 HP stock car.) I had to follow the instructor for 15 laps (2 cars.) Then he realized I could drive the car. They had a speed limit of about 150 on the strait so we had to coast, then right before you slam on the brakes to corner he had us go full throttle for one thousand one one thou, SLAM the brakes…. right before the apex of the turn, which is quite unnatural, you went back to full throttle. I noticed the slight delay from the full throttle to the power band of the engine. Actually I noticed a puff of fuel come out of the lead race car's header or exhaust pipe before the car slammed the apex, where a driver would normally go full throttle. Then we had it wired.

I upset him by pushing him down the strait when he was waiving his arm frantically (which meant slow down back off 3', we were 150 mph about 100 feet into the strait. I dunno if I did 50 or 60 laps. All I can tell you is I wanted out of that hot box on the 95 degree Fla day so bad the final 10 laps were work. I though damn these stock car drivers must train very hard on long distance bicycle or run many miles a week to drive 500 miles in this hot box. They must have full focus in real racing for that 3 hours and that takes endurance. I walked into Disney and the wife said, "so? Are we trading the Drag car for a stock car?" No way baby, I'll never be a stock car driver.

Disney rocks. If you can't find something to do there…send me a note. Few realize all there is to offer.

Disney is my retirement plan. That will be my job from 62-82. I'll be rebuilding engines, motors, hydraulic pumps and training young men, how to work. Did you ever notice how they take out the trash restock the concessions, or how the leaf blower/ vacuum exhaust smells but doesn't stink like your gasoline lawn mower?

I remember as a 11 yo kid asking dad, are they running vp racing gas in that leaf sucker? Pops can you smell that exhaust? That's the same sweet smell of fuel burning at the dragstrip. Only you'd notice, son. Did you wonder where does all the trash go? We could never figure out how is it that every kid that works there for the minimum is so happy. My wife, the UCF grad explained it to me. Talk to the management. Where are they? Exactly!

Stefan Jovanovich writes: 

 A trip to Orlando's theme parks would not be complete without a trip to Florida's own surf city, Cocoa Beach. We make a day trip over to CB at least 7-8 times a year, usually in spring and summer, and sometimes stay a few nights at the surfer friendly Wakulla Suites.

A typical day trip begins at 3AM with a stop at our local 7/11 for coffee and donuts. Boards strapped and secure on the top of the car, we race up I-75 until we hit I-4, take a right to Orlando where we exit and take the 528 over to Cocoa Beach. Our excitement is palpable when we get close on the 528 causeway, and one can smell the Atlantic Ocean. Pulling into Cocoa Beach on A1A, if all goes well, usually happens around 6:15-6:30 AM. Our ritual is to always stop at the Waffle House for a greasy breakfast, some good country tunes on the juke box, while rubbing elbows with working people and an eclectic mix of tourists and surfers. I love the waitresses at Waffle House, the way every customer is referred to as "Hon."

After breakfast, we find our parking spot, unload the car, set up the tent, and paddle out for a nice dawn patrol. Since we always take a couple of local kids along with us, they get the job of setting up our site. The kids are always good sports, and "Get the Joke" as Lack would say. Generally, we will surf for a couple of hours, taking time to stay hydrated (one loses a lot of water in the sun and surf), then relaxing with a quick siesta under the shade from the little tent. Waking up, we'll put on sunscreen (Bullfrog) and go back out for a couple hours.

My wife will make a run over to Publix for some excellent deli subs, some salad and fruit which we will eat for lunch right on the beach. Usually after lunch is another short siesta, then back to the waves. Since my wife learned to ride a longboard, she will paddle out for a few after lunch. Otherwise, she is content to stay under the tent, watching us surf while reading.

If the surf is really good, we'll stay out until 4-4:30 or until exhaustion takes it's toll. I have found that using a waterproof ipod is just the ticket for adding the enjoyment of good music to a surf session. My son does the same, and while my surf music tastes tend to gravitate towards Coltrane and Monk, his is more geared towards punk and hip hop. The difference in musical tastes is very common between old guys like me on longboards, and young guys who ride those potato chip shortboards. Either way, the good tunes extend the length of a surf session and make it much more fulfilling and spiritual.

After surfing all day, late afternoon creeps up quickly and we feel a tired sense of satisfaction and accomplishment. Wrapping up the day, the groms know their duty is to pack up the boards, tent, coolers, etc. We always make it a rule to park near Ron Jon's. We wander into their huge 2 level surf shop, gawking at the lobster burned tourists, the cheap "Made in China" trinkets and other souvenirs of questionable repute. We always head upstairs to look at the huge selection of surfboards, talking story with the board sales staff, who are usually grisly old guys who have as much surfing experience as Gerry Lopez. I always buy the groms something useful, as they generally come from very limited circumstances and things like no-name wetsuits, leashes, rashguards quite inexpensive at Ron Jon's. Sometimes Ron Jon will have good deals on Hawaiian shirts, the kind that I live in 360 days a year. My wife will always ask, "Are you sure you need another 5 shirts?" She's always a good sport, lets me have the shirts, and I make sure to find something good for her as well.

After an hour or so taking in the spectacle that is Ron Jon, we walk across the street to "The Shark Pit Bar and Grill," at Ron Jon's main competitor, the Cocoa Beach Surf Company. Their meals are quite delicious, with generous portions, an attentive waitstaff, and are quite filling. After dinner, we'll check out the boards and equipment at the CBSC shop, then drag our way back to the car.

Leaving Cocoa Beach around dark, we always stop at a Starbucks, where I like to get a quadruple venti cappuccino, drugging myself in order to make the 3.5 hour drive home. We usually make it home before midnight, barring some horrible traffic on I-4. The drive home finds everyone in the car passed out, leaving me to enjoy my thoughts, sense of accomplishment, and the love that I have for everyone around me.

Dropping the groms off, we make our way home, to the comfort of our beds. The car is never unloaded until the next day, usually in the late afternoon. I never unload the car myself, preferring to delegate the job as there are more pressing things on my mind, like sleeping in all day long. Still, one cannot have a day trip to Cocoa Beach without suffering one major unintended consequence, which usually manifests itself as an ear to ear smile that lasts for a couple of days. If you have never been on a surf run to Cocoa Beach, or it's sister New Smyrna Beach, your life is sadly incomplete.


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