Room For One More

Where can I get this as wallpaper?

So, I dunno if you know this about me, but I have a fantastic fiance named Tom. (I know it's a bit late for this now, but I wonder if I should't have changed his name to protect him from a slew of admirers. Hands off, kiddos. He's mine.) Well, we went down to City Hall in NYC just last week and got a marriage license. (Yes, yes. That means I'm off the market, too. Try not to get too upset. We're open to being just friends with you.) We've been together for a bit over a year now. (He bought me a D23 membership for our one year anniversary. How awesome is that?!?!) I know that I have already told you about our Disney-related meet cute story, so I'm sure that you've been chomping at the bit to hear the engagement story, since, wouldn't you know it, it's Disney-centered as well. Since our wedding is in one week, on September 23rd, I thought that today would be the perfect day to do it.

From our first meeting, Tom and I got very close very quickly. You know that whole soulmate thing? The one we've all made fun of while sitting on our couches watching season five of Sex and the City and cursing our love lives? I found that in him, despite fifteen years of kvetching about how it would never happen. Pretty soon after we got together we started circling the idea of taking things to the next level and putting a ring on it. We talked about it in somewhat general terms and knew an engagement was on the horizon without nailing down when or how the question would actually be popped.

About six months after we met, we planned a trip down to Florida where Tom would meet the fam and we would make a lengthy detour down to Orlando and spend one day in each other four parks in Walt Disney World. Tom had not been down there for about a decade and I hadn't for almost a year myself, which is about 11 months too long, in my lil' ole opinion, so opportunity was ripe and our trip to Disneyland together two months after we met had gone so well that I knew that we would have a blast.

Sigh. So romantic.

Little did he know, bless his heart, that I had a bit of a surprise up my sneaky sleeve. Mama and I had been communicated on the DL about finding rings so I could propose to him while we were in WDW. After many clandestine phone calls and internet links passed back and forth, we decided on a lovely, simple silver band. It was one of those you-know-it-when-you-see-it moments when Mama showed it to me. Seven months prior, I thought I would end up being alone forever, and yet, here I was, seeking out ring advice from my Mama.

The next step was deciding where in the parks I wanted to do the deed. The answer was pretty obvious. Both me and Tom's favorite attraction is The Haunted Mansion. Tom, who's a fantastic musician, loves to play the music from it on the piano and knows the narration by heart (as well as the unused Vincent Price narration from Phantom Manor in Disneyland Paris). I know, I know. It's a bit macabre and weird to propose there unironically considering that we are both pretty much the opposite of goth. But we're also both odd ducks and so in the end it all makes sense.

Stretching Room + 60's =
Tom's dream come true.
Thanks, Shag.

Once that decision was made, then it was time to decide where exactly on the ride to do it. I thought of doing it in the Seance Room with Madame Leota overseeing the proceedings, but quickly decided against it. The scenarios I came up with for giving him a ring during the ride itself were not pretty. What if he gets excited or nervous and drops the ring into the abyss below the track? What if he can't hear or see what I'm trying to do? What if he gets annoyed that I'm interrupting the ride? I quickly ruled that out. Doing it in the queue seemed a little silly, too. Almost like an after thought. "My, this line is long. How to pass the time? Well, I guess I can ask you to marry me."

Then it dawned on me. The Stretching Room. Of course. It's Tom's favorite part of the ride. We even have one of the portraits hanging up in our room. More importantly, though, if he drops the ring we can just pick it up and move on through. The decision was made. The rings were ordered. The trip was planned. Tom suspected nothing save one night where he turned to me and asked, "Are you going to propose to me in front of Cinderella's Castle?" I told him of course not because that would be corny. It was a close call, but I didn't even have to lie to distract him from my ghoulish plan.

We headed down to Florida, where Tom met my awesome mama, my rad sister, and my crazy dad. He made a wonderful impression and a few days later, after I collected the rings and buried them in my luggage, we made our way from Tallahassee down to Orlando. (By the way, every time I say the name of the city, in my mind I sing it like the song from Book of Mormon.) Our first day was in Epcot and so it was easy for me not to get too nervous. I was busy listening to the dulcet tones of Judi Dench explain the history of human communication.

Can you spot the boxes? Tom didn't :)

The next day was the Magic Kingdom. The Magic Kingdom means Liberty Square. Liberty Square means the Haunted Mansion. And the Haunted Mansion means the moment was nigh. The morning was rainy and chilly. I was extra careful to slide the rings and their tell-tale boxes into my hoodie pockets when Tom's back was turned. They were still bulky and so I kept my hands in my pockets the whole morning as we drove to the TTC, took the Monorail over and waited in the rain for the gates to open. Luckily, since it's our fave, we headed straight in that direction first thing. I'm sure Tom noticed something was off with my energy, but probably thought that it was just because the rain rain rain was coming down down down.

I was nervous as the dickens while we made a beeline over and walked right up to the door. It was us and a small British family. They had an adorable little girl with them who kept on asking if there were really ghost in there with her cute little accent. She would jet out from behind her mom, knock on the door real quick-like, and then hide behind the mother's legs again asking if we were all going to turn into ghosts if we went inside. Finally, the door opened and we all went inside and then into the Stretching Room.

I know they smell a bit musty, but they need
a ride to the bachelor party. Please. Anyone?

I had decided that I wanted to wait until after the spiel was over so that a) we wouldn't intrude on other people's vacation with our big proposal production number and 2) so Tom would be able to enjoy the whole thing. After the room had stretched and the door that wasn't there slid open, Tom started to walk away. My heart leapt into my throat, I grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him back, and he looked at me like I had lobsters crawling out of my ears. I got down on one knee, pulled the ring out of my left pocket (that was the one with his size 7 in it), and asked him to marry me.

The rings right after the proposal.

He had a scant moment to process it, but luckily that's all he needed. He said yes, I got up and gave him a kiss and said "Hurry, let's go before they close the door on us!" As we waited to board out Doom Buggy, Tom took the other ring and sealed the deal. I love the Haunted Mansion every time I ride it, but I must say, that was one special trip through. After we got off, we walked outside and the sun had broken through the clouds. The rain had stopped and the weather was absolutely lovely for the rest of the day. I could not have asked for things to have gone any differently. It was a series of perfect moments that I will remember forever.

Don't get any ideas, Tom Tom.

I was so surprised to find someone who fit so well with me, and the fact that he was as big a Disney geek as I was really sealed the deal. With a week until the wedding, and our immediate families soon descending on City Hall in NYC for a small ceremony, I can't help but thank whichever star I wished on that finally decided to listen to me when I said that I had room for one more in my life. That star sent me a mortal who was as foolish as I was. That day I took my loved one by the hand and we watched our step as we boarded the ride. I expect our lives together to be one heckuva swinging wake.

Odd Disney World: President Jonathan T. President?

It must have been crowded in that room
when this portrait was done, huh?

As Katy Perry might say if she cared to discuss her connection to audio animatronic Presidential figures, I've had a very hot and cold relationship with the Hall of Presidents attraction in the Magic Kingdom.

First, a smidge of history on the attraction. Walt had originally planned to have the show, then known as "One Nation Under God", at Disneyland on the unbuilt Liberty Street in the unbuilt Edison Square section of the park that was to be adjacent to Main Street U.S.A. They realized that the scope of what he wanted to do was beyond what they could do with the new audio animatronic technology and instead created the successful Great Moments With Mr. Lincoln attraction.

When Walt Disney World was built, a new land was created for the Magic Kingdom in Florida called Liberty Square. Imagineers figured that locals wouldn't be interested in visiting New Orleans Square when the real thing was a few highways west. The new land was the perfect place to finally realize Walt's vision, housing audio animatronic figures of all of the Presidents within a show.

I figure it's pretty much a given that before you hit about eighteen years old, the last thing in the world you want to do while at a Disney park is to sit in a dark theater for a robotic history lesson. You avoid that mess like the plague. Dude, come on! Splash Mountain is mere feet away! The Haunted Mansion is right across Liberty Square! You have to wait forever to get in if the visit isn't well timed and the show feels deadly long to a youngun. That's certainly how it felt to me.

Um. Mr. Lincoln? Can you put your clothes
back on? I'm terrified. Please and thanks.

As I grew, I took issue with the attraction for a much different reason. From 2001-2008, George W. Bush had taken up residence in the Hall. Now, this is no fault of Disney's. And they did a fine job of representing him without making an overly political statement in either direction. But my skin crawled. It was very hard to watch a man who I did not have a terribly high opinion of most things I stand for talk about liberty and justice when I was a second class citizen in my own country. Plus, Maya Angelou was no longer the narrator. Apparently, the caged bird sings because she's trying to tell you she wants to get the heck away from GWB. Not that I can blame her.

Towards the end of W.'s run I saw the show one last time. The lobby was packed with Confederate flag wearing good ole boys and we all know that those are not my favorite people in the world. I wasn't always as zen about dealing them then as I have subsequently become. During the show, before I knew what had hit me, I just started crying. Hearing the eloquent and heartening words of Abraham Lincoln juxtaposed against the deeds of the man who stood beside him was a bit too much to take. Mama was sitting one one side of me with Dad, my sister Kelly on the other and I remember thinking that even if my government didn't love and accept me, my family did and I should count myself as lucky.

Ah. Much better. Thank you, sir.

The first time that I saw the new incarnation with Barack Obama, I felt a lot of relief. The GWB years were a dark cloud that shrouded most of my twenties in a feeling of hopelessness. I had become much more politically aware as a result of the 2008 election. Since this isn't a political blog, suffice it to say that  there are things I love about Obama and other things not so much. I think he's done an admirable job under less than optimal circumstances.

As far as the Hall is concerned, I can now relax and enjoy the experience (now narrated by Morgan Freeman, which is fully rad) without wanting to scratch my skin off, though I'm sure Michele Bachmann would disagree. Such is the state of our union and the fact that we can sit in the same room, watch the same presentation and be guaranteed our right to feel and express two completely different sentiments is a huge part of what makes it great. I warn you, however, that if I ever find myself in the same Hall of Presidents show as Michele Bachmann, I'm not sure that I could stop myself from pouncing on her like a panther and screaming "Marriage pledge, my rump! You evil hag!" So please hold me back. I don't want to get thrown out of the park.

The show building was designed to resemble
Philadelphia's Independence Hall.

In a way, it feels odd to have something so highly political in the center of what is the ultimate escape from the real world. No matter how even-handed Disney is in their treatment of the subject of politics, it is going to stir up deep and personal stuff for someone on some side of the fence about something. We're talking everything from the current red state/blue state divide, to slavery, to religion, to war. We're talking capital I Issues.

I walk into the Magic Kingdom to leave those kinds of things behind, and yet I think I am drawn to the Hall of Presidents because it is, at the core, showing America at its best. What our country is capable of when you get past the pettiness and the puffery. It reminds me that we are the country that created an incredible man like Abraham Lincoln, whose still powerful words in the show never fail to get me all misty-eyed. It reminds me to stay hopeful because we have a capacity for greatness yet to be fulfilled.

We just got real deep there, huh? Well, I actually brought up the Hall of Presidents because I have stumbled on one of the greatest pieces of absurdist Disney humor I have ever seen. It's a slow burner. Be patient. Listen carefully. I started off confused, started to get it, started to chuckle and, by the end, I was laughing till I snorted. When I watched it a second time, I laughed even harder. Boys and girls, I present to you The Hall of Inaccurate Presidents! Do not use it to study for Friday's social studies test, please.

I died! President Jimmy Goose! President Unknown! President Sweeney Patch! This video is absolutely priceless. It tickled me so much, I knew I had to share it with you.

While we're out it, I came across this video, which looks like it was taped off of America's Funniest Home Videos, showing what happens when the audio animatronics don't get the break that they are guaranteed by their union.

Sorry, y'all. He was done. They work those poor robots like dogs and Abe just couldn't take it any more. And scene. I've also heard tell from Imagineers that there have been times when the fingers were not working correctly on Lincoln and resulted in a rather rude Abey Baby.

What is your take on the Hall of Presidents? Does it bore you or make you proud? Or is it just a good excuse to spend an extended period of time out of the Florida heat and in a darkened, air-conditioned theater? And, most importantly, did you vote for President Roy Wizard?

In Defense of the Happiest Cruise That Ever Sailed

I'm about to lay some heavy poetry on you. It's very deep. Take a deep breath and dive in when you feel like your mind and heart are open. Here we go...    

it's a world of laughter, a world of tears

it’s a world of hopes, and a world of fears

there’s so much that we share

that it’s time we're aware

it’s a small world after all

it’s a small world after all

it’s a small world after all

it’s a small world after all

it’s a small, small world

there is just one moon and one golden sun

and a smile means friendship to everyone

though the mountains divide

and the oceans are wide

it's a small, small world 

I hope you don't think I was joking. I'm completely serious. If, when you realized that it was the lyrics to "it's a small world", you skimmed through them and skipped to here, then I want you to stop, go back, and actually read the words with care as if you had never read them before. Go ahead. I'll wait.

Note to self and Tom: Baby's room will
be done in Mary Blair style.

What did you think? Didn't expect that, huh? The simplicity of those words makes it very easy to overlook how profound they actually are. 


I, for one, am pretty much tired of how much ridicule this ride gets. I know, I know. I get it. The song is repetitive and gets stuck in your head. It's unwaveringly cheerful. It's uncomplicated. It aims low by being simple enough for children to grasp easily and bright enough to keep their attention. It uses what some consider to be stereotypes to convey cultural differences quickly in a visual way. 

I've spent a good chunk of time hearing horror stories of being trapped on the ride and tortured by the music, seeing it parodied, sometimes in clever ways, such as in Shrek and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and sometimes in very mean-spirited ways, and reading a lot of pretentious academics who think that the ride is racist, insensitive and outrageous. And I'm over it. I want to make a case for this much maligned attraction and share why it is one of my absolute favorites.


First and foremost we need to discuss the look of the ride. It's style can be attributed to Mary Blair, who is my favorite Disney artist. I could devote an entire blog to my all-consuming love for her art. She worked on several Disney films- the major three being Peter Pan, Cinderella, and Alice in Wonderland- making art designed to give inspiration to the animators who would do the actual designs. She brought a sense of adventure with her touches of expressionism, whimsy with her use of color and joy with her artistry. Here are a few of my favorite Mary Blair inspirational art pieces.

Mary Blair's art is what my wildest imagination could look like on it's awesomest day. There is an exhibit in the Disney Gallery in Disneyland this summer devoted to Mary's work. Tom and I will be visiting in September before it closes. I'm already piddling in my shorts just thinking about the prospect of being surrounded by rooms full of her art. 


After she amicably left the Disney studio, Mary did a lot of children's book illustrating and ad work. When Walt was given the opportunity to create "it's a small world" for UNICEF at the World's Fair in New York in 1964, he thought of Mary and her artistic style. She had come to be known for her very distinct style of depicting children. 

Walt felt that Mary would be the perfect artist to give a visual style to the project and he was right. Along with Imagineers including Rolly Crump, Marc Davis and Alice Davis, she created one of the most memorable theme park attractions in the world. 


As an example of its impact, just think of that end scene, where everything is in white. It is pure magic. We've been so saturated with color over the course of our trip that the sudden shift in the color palette is stunning. By keeping everything in the same shades of white, etc., the scene reinforces the unity of all the children just through the use of color, which I mentioned Mary was fantastic with. Though they are each different, they literally wear their similarities on their sleeves as a visual representation of a deeper truth. And white is the perfect choice. It is the color of promise yet to be fulfilled. Mary took the final scene and made the children of the world a blank canvas waiting to be painted on. That is the work of a brilliant artist. 


She came back to do concept work and designs for the attraction and continued to lend her talents to Disney parks, including the amazing murals in the Contemporary in WDW with the famous five-legged goat.

Next time you're on the ride, a fun thing to do is to look for Mary Blair herself on the ride. In both Disneyland and Walt Disney World, a doll that looks like her was added to commemorate her singular contributions to "it's a small world". Try to spot her next time you ride. She looks like this:

Of course the attraction is simple. Of course it is bright and colorful. Of course it boils everything down to the essence. This ride is intended as a gift to the children of the world. As a child, all my mind thought about was how cool all of these other places must be and how much I wanted to learn more. To me, that is accomplishing the noble task that Walt set out to do. 


Let us not forget that we are not exploring the world's socio-political interactions for a doctoral thesis. We are introducing young ones to a representation of other young ones all over the world so that they can see themselves in them. What kid doesn't have a ball pointing out different countries and cultures while in that boat and feeling so proud when they can identify them? At the same time, children are not pandered to. There is enough going on, enough details and surprises, that even now I find new things to charm me. I still have codfish mouth every time.

If the visual design engages you with other cultures, the much-maligned song unifies everything. Originally each country was going to sing its national anthem. When they realized how cacophonous that would end up, Walt brought the Sherman Brothers, who were working on Mary Poppins, in to write a song that could be used throughout. It gives all of the children one single voice, even when they are speaking a different language. 


The song was originally written as a slower, wistful, even sad song. Look at those lyrics again. It's not as peppy as you assume from the cheerful arrangement. Along with the laughter, there are tears. Along with hope, there are fears. It's a plea for unity as much as it is a celebration of it. Through the simplest gesture, like a smile, we can reach across borders, real and imagined, and create a world like the one we are sailing through on the ride. A world of joyousness and togetherness. 

I'm no fool. I am, however, an optimist. Right now,  I live in a country where red states and blue states spar constantly through the representatives they have chosen. Where you can be considered a second class citizen because of who you love, the color of your skin, or the God that guides you. Where there doesn't seem to always be the hope and promise of a brighter tomorrow for the next generation. To me, "it's a small world" is kind of like the golden rule. Things really can be that simple. The golden rule teaches us to do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Likewise, "it's a small world" teaches us that no matter how different someone may seem, they are human just like you, and they are deserving of kindness. That to me isn't trite. It's truth. A truth that we need to hear now more than ever. You can make the world that we live in a better place by keep wisdom like that in your back pocket. 

It is time for the backlash to the backlash to begin and for it to be cool to love this ride again. I have no qualms about shouting from the rooftop how much I adore it. When I went to Disneyland for the first time with Tom last year and we got to the area of "it's a small world", I actually wept. It was so beautiful and moving. Mary Blair's influence is all over the whole corner of the park, making it into a mini Mary Blair land. The ride's gorgeous facade and topiaries stood there, inviting me in for five of the loveliest minutes I've ever spent in my life. I sat in that boat, which has been sailing for 45 years, and watched the real children's faces light up as we travelled through a blissful world free of hate and cruelty. I held the hand of the man that I love, got swept up in the magic and gave the dream of a better world for my children permission to stay afloat.  

It Can Be a Jungle Out There

One day I will stay in Cinderella's Castle
Suite. Add it to the bucket list.

It's no lie when I say that going to a Disney Park is like stepping out of reality. You allow yourself to forget about things that worry you and just melt into the warm, gooey happiness that is everywhere. Whenever I cross the berm, so to speak, I leave troubles waiting outside, tapping their watches, waiting to get all up in my grill again. That's part of why the parks are so magical. They are the ultimate escape, designed to give you permission to bask in the worry-free joy and innocence of childhood.

With marriage equality fast approaching in New York, I've been thinking about how my relationship is perceived by others. I wish I didn't have to, but I do. My soon-to-be husband and I can't get married yet because others don't approve of the way I live my life. That's a hard pill to swallow. Living in big ole' NYC, it's easy to forget that we are in a bubble where, by and large, we are accepted as we are.

We have considered moving down to Orlando, where we would be a few hours from my family and a few minutes from Walt Disney World. We would both like to have a family of our own and suburbia seems to be a natural move in the right direction. NYC is hard and cold and expensive (and also sometimes spectacularly amazing. Don't get me wrong. I have a love/hate relationship with the big A.) It's also not very conducive to raising a family unless you are moneyed. We are not. Orlando is not cheap, to be sure, but the other pluses outweigh the cost. And it would still be cheaper than NYC.

By that point, we will be married in New York State, but it seems Florida is quite a ways away from passing marriage equality laws. People tend to forget that the Bible Belt chokes the panhandle and a lot of older people in the southern parts of the state can't wrap their heads around the idea of two people of the same sex being allowed to marry. This would mean a huge headache. Our marriage will be recognized in one state, but not by the Federal government and not in the state we live in. This is quite a sticky wicket and one that a lot of gay and lesbian couples are affected by. Many straight people take for granted the rights that a simple marriage certificate affords them, from taxes to visitation.

I don't want to make this too political, but this is a matter of doing what is right. Civil rights should not be subject to popular vote. If they had been, interracial marriage might still be illegal. The fact that marriage equality is even still an issue baffles me. People are entitled to have their own opinions about me and the way I live my life, but they are not entitled to impede me from living it. It seems that in the course of touting "family values" and wasting taxpayer money attempting to stop loving couples from marrying and raising children, a lot of folks have forgotten something I learned in kindergarten. Do unto others as you'd have them do unto you. It's even in the Bible. Matthew 7:12. Look it up, Fred Phelps.

Congo Queen, indeed.

This brings me to my last trip to Walt Disney World this past spring. Tom and I got engaged there and had a wonderful visit 99.9% of the time. Of course that pesky .1% is part of what has stayed with me. Hopefully blogging it out into the universe eradicates what's left of it. The incident happened while Tom and I were in the queue for the Jungle Cruise. We had been waiting for about 10 minutes when I heard a voice from behind me say, "Come on. Seriously. I don't want my kid to see that."

All the blood drained from my head. I turned around to see a scrappy Southern dude in a cap, his sheepish looking wife, their son, who looked to be about three, and grandma and grandpa. He was looking me right in the eye with the most horrible expression of disgust washing over his face. I think he said something else after that. I can't be sure. I didn't say a word. I didn't argue. I didn't explain what was going on to Tom. I'm not one for confrontation in general, and I certainly didn't want to make a scene at Disney. I pulled Tom back and waited for the family to pass. Tom asked what was happening. I asked him to just hold on while I desperately tried to pull the tears back into their ducts.

I couldn't quite wrap my brain around what set the guy off. Tom and I had been holding hands. He told me later that he had playfully pinched my butt, but I hadn't even felt it. I kept on waving people past, trying to make sure that there was absolutely no way that we would snake by this family again. I caught glimpses of them, giving us evils. I also saw the father stop a cast member and point back towards us, saying who knows what. I was crushed. I felt weak for not standing up for myself. I had just that very morning gotten engaged to the man I'm going to spend the rest of my life with and now this? Not cool, universe. Not cool.

As I was waving people past, there was an older couple who paused to say they had seen what happened and said couldn't understand why the man had gotten so upset, saying there was no reason he should have had a problem. The woman gave me a kind look and shook her head sadly about what happened. It was a welcome show of solidarity.

It's true. I wouldn't be shocked to see Gaga in this garb. 

It was at this point that the universe realized its' mistake and started working overtime to remind me that for every person in this world who tries to knock you down, there are four there waiting to prop you up. That couple in line was number one. Number two was right after we sat down in our boat. Our Jungle Cruise skipper was a hilarious gay latino. How did I know he was gay? When the headhunters are doing their dance, he pointed over and said "Look! The natives are getting ready for a Lady Gaga concert!" Need I say more? When Tom and I laughed the loudest, he knew he had found the gays in his boat and let loose what must have been one of the funniest, queerest Jungle Cruise spiels ever. Nothing inappropriate. But it was like having one of the little latin boys in drag from RuPaul's Drag Race out of drag moonlighting as a Jungle Cruise skipper. It was exactly what we needed to lighten our mood. It was the best Jungle Cruise I have ever taken.

The third person propping us up was a lovely lady the next morning as we were lined up waiting to get into Disney's Hollywood Studios. She started chatting with us. She asked us about the rings, noticing that they must be new because we were playing with them, spinning them around our fingers. She was so excited when she heard the engagement story and was the first person in the world to offer us congratulations face to face. She told us about a gay family member of hers and his experiences growing up in the small town they were from. We chatted about the parks and life and whatever else floated through our minds, making that hour until the rope drop fly by. She was like a midwestern, middle-aged angel dropping down to remind us that there are good people in the world and that they will make themselves known when you least expect it.

Tip: Go standby first thing and get a FastPass
to use later on your way out!

The fourth instance wasn't a person. It was a family. While we were waiting in line at the end of the day to go on Toy Story Midway Mania one last time, we noticed a lesbian couple with a little girl, roughly the same age as the boy in the Jungle Cruise queue, directly ahead of us in line. She was all decked out in her princess attire and was as chatty as could be. We spent the whole time in line talking with these three wonderful ladies, mostly about Disney, princesses and what they did in the park, but a bit about their lives. You could tell that they were proud, loving parents successfully raising a quirky, confident, beautiful daughter. I saw in them the kind of family that I wanted to build with Tom. As they hopped onto the ride ahead of us, I waved goodbye and grabbed Tom's hand tight.

Small-minded people are everywhere. And they are small-minded everywhere. They are in Orlando, in New York City, and even within the walls of the Magic Kingdom itself. You have no control over them. But you do have control over how you interact with them. I wasn't going to change the mind of the Jungle Cruise dad, but I hope that when they left that day, all that little boy thought about was how much fun he had. I hope that, by not making a scene, the memory of what happened in that queue fades to nothing in his young mind without leaving so much as a crease on his impressionable brain. I hope that when he grows up, he is the one that breaks the cycle of closed-minded hatred that his family has tried to instill in him and is aware of how his actions affect others. I hope that when he comes back to Walt Disney World with his family, however traditional or not they are, they leave hatred, pettiness, and fear outside the gates, allowing the love, hope and joy that the park was built upon guide their experience there.

And with that, I let the whole incident go.

I eagerly await hopping into another Disney queue soon with my husband and some day with a little one of our own. Because it still is, and will always be, my favorite place in the world.