Our World Could Be Disney World

This month we visited Disney World to celebrate a best friend’s engagement (congrats Brando + Temp). It was a childhood staple for me having grown up in Florida, but until this month the last time I visited Disney World was in 2004, now over 20 years ago. I remember this trip well because my late Dad rode with me and my sister on the Tower of Terror, creating one of the most vivid memories of him that I have left.

That same night in 2004, we caught a late bus back to the Wilderness Campground, where we were staying during the trip. As luck would have it, Dad’s alter ego was our bus driver that night, and us three were the only passengers. Dad leaned on his boundless charisma to start a conversation with him, and their shared taste in absurd, surreal humor was confirmed. (Think anything from Monty Python to Space Ghost, both of which Dad would watch with us on the regular.) Once the driver found out we had been on the Tower of Terror, the two bonded over old episodes of the Twilight Zone, and the bus driver started to assume the role of Rod Serling, flickering the bus lights on and off.

This isn’t your typical Disney blog. I’m a below-average participant in Disney fandom these days. I’ve seen all the classics and know the big songs; I’m aware of the newer movies; I understand that Marvel + Star Wars + Avatar are part of the universe now (and even though I’m not a huge fan of any of these franchises, they’re integrated quite well into the parks). Basically, I know enough to get around.

The most important thing about Disney to me is my core memory: my crazy Dad’s chance encounter with the crazy bus driver as my sister and I looked on with awe. But I now realize that this form of the “Disney Magic” is really no different than a child getting to meet Elsa or take a photo with Goofy. That’s their core memory, their own personal Disney Magic. And it’s made possible not just by the different Disney fictional universes, but also by this real universe that we occupy right now, the same one that created this bus driver who had the same appreciation for the absurd that Dad was trying to instill in us.

And it begs the question: why not take more of the “real universe” flavor of Disney Magic and sprinkle it into the rest of our lives? I have some ideas.

Disney transit

I’m a road trip lover. Yes, I’m the weirdo that enjoys driving. Despite this, even I took delight in being able to park the Mazda outside Art of Animation resort on Tuesday and not having to even think about the car again until we left the resort for home on Sunday. This is undoubtedly part of the Disney Magic.

• “Want to get to Epcot?” Take the Skyliner.
• “Actually, let’s spend the evening at Magic Kingdom instead.” Walk right over to the Monorail.
• “It’s Animal Kingdom day!” Hop on a bus, there’s one every 20 minutes or less and you might even get a stand-up comedian as your bus driver.

We stayed for four days this trip, and on the very first day we rode the Skyliner with a family of four who were first-timers and had a small boy celebrating his birthday. They asked for help with getting around, and it was extremely satisfying to help them figure out their different options for getting to the different parks over the next few days.

People in general seem to love having multiple options for getting around. It remains a total mystery to me why we as a society don’t give ourselves this bit of the Disney Magic in more of our cities and hometowns. (I also think there’s room for improvement at Disney World itself: I’d consider walking almost everywhere if there were more walkable trails and pedestrian bridges over the highways that connect sections of the campus.)

Disney food

We happened to visit during Epcot’s International Flower & Garden Festival. I didn’t get to try every single booth, but I was damn close. More importantly, we were able to enjoy every booth across all of the parks and resorts worry-free, because Disney does not use latex gloves in food service. (It’s harder to immerse in the Disney Magic and fully enjoy your trip when you have to ask every vendor what kind of gloves they’re using.)

This is just one of those many smart, small things that Disney does to reduce friction, and while you’re there you will likely catch yourself saying “they really have thought of everything, haven’t they?” about everything from the queue design on rides to the Lightrover on Tron. The same MagicBand that gets you into your hotel room works as your fast pass on rides and as payment for merch, among other things.

Anyway, entire states have banned latex gloves in food service at this point. This should be another easy one for us to solve.

Disney empathy

During our first night we watched the “finale” fireworks show at closing time at Epcot. One of the cast members broke the fourth wall and joked with us about the fact that it’s the same show every night. But honestly, maybe we do need to be beaten over the heads with messages of love and empathy right now.

The Disney Magic at its core is these bits of kindness and joy that spread throughout the parks. The cast members are a primary source, and by sharing these moments with park goers, they create a contagion of happiness that they hope will last all day. We actually know this is a real phenomenon from academic research, but you should be able to feel it while you’re there too. (Any adult dense enough to have a totally bad day at Disney might be beyond hope.)

One idea we talked about a good amount during the trip is when we saw families that were obviously stressed or even angry with each other in the parks. Our theory (I think it’s a good one) is that for some of these families, this vacation was probably their “all-in”, chips-to-the-middle, “this trip will make or break our year” moment. This could be due to finances (there won’t be any other vacations for a while) or otherwise.

Feeling pressured to enjoy a vacation seems so distinctly U.S.A. to me. We spend so much of our working lives under corporate pressure, and the entire point of a vacation is to relieve this effect. If we can’t find release at Disney World of all places, where Donald Duck is roaming the streets and you can ride a Slinky Dog roller coaster, where will we ever find it?

Things are always going to go wrong. One member of our party nearly missed the entire first day of the trip, and it rained — we adapted and rescheduled. The bigger the group, the greater the chance that things will have to be broken up at some point or another — roll with it.

It’s a miracle that we can share the same theme park with thousands of other people at the same time and all experience the Disney Magic in our own personal ways. But whether it’s the theme park or the world at large, the same idea applies: we all share it…so embrace that we all share it. We live in a society. You can isolate or participate, but the world will keep turning either way. The world is full of reckless hate and divisiveness right now, to the point where individuals are writing books and going on podcasts just to proclaim that empathy is a fundamental weakness. But when you boil down their solutions, they all point to one thing: further isolation. My response is, “good luck building your own personal Disney World.”

Disney (time) magic

This is a bonus section dedicated to (Final Fantasy time mages, especially moogles, but also) connections between two points in time with a shared location.

Tower of Terror

From the top I mentioned the Tower of Terror. Tell me that in 2025 I didn’t nail my Dad’s crazy smile from 2004.

I’ll look at your coffee

Keep your best memes alive and build your castle of memories. If not…I’ll look at your coffee.

Marineland

Finally, just to get Mom in here for a second: we passed by Marineland on A1A on the way home, and once again saw the same rock that Mom + Grandma posed in front of ~40 years ago. (Marineland was also a classic field trip for our elementary school summer camp.)