Rope Drop
We went to Disneyland over the holidays. Two days after Christmas we went – Nell and I, Carrie and Bridget, and Bridget’s boyfriend Chris, who had given Bridget a day at Disneyland as a Christmas gift. Bridget is my Disney girl, and I found out that day just how deep Disney was in her soul. Carrie is not necessarily a Disney girl – at least not to the extent that Bridget is - but she goes along willingly and cheerfully, because it’s a family tradition and she’s part of our Disney “team”. The five of us have been doing Disneyland annually for a while now, at least since Disneyland opened up post-Covid.
Full disclaimer: I love Disneyland, too, though I don’t consider myself a “Disney adult”. I don’t go multiple times a year (hmm, would I though, if ir weren’t so expensive?). I don’t wear mouse ears or buy Disney apparel – sure, it’s look great when you’re at Disneyland, but would I wear that Disney sweatshirt to the grocery store? I don’t think so. I really don’t know where the hidden Mickeys are in the park. There are no Disney figurines on my shelf (though I do have some Disneyland pins – we’ll get to that in a bit), and I would never go on a Disney cruise, though I hear they’re quite good.
If I’m going to spend money on Disney, it’s going to be at Disneyland itself, so I will go to Disneyland (at least) once a year, preferably at Christmas. For us Ventura residents, a Disneyland day is a planned expedition that starts pretty early. Bridget and Chris left their house at 5:00 a.m., picked up Carrie at 5:15, Nell and me at 6. I drove us down the 101 and the 5 - pretty much the only time I take that freeway combination is to go to Disneyland. We were parking around 7:15, made it through security without too much hassle, and then took the distinctive Disneyland tram over to the entrance gates. The tram counts as our first ride, in my opinion, and it’s pure potential: a Disneyland day opens up in front of you.
Thanks to digital tickets and more flexibility at the entrance kiosk, Disneyland is much better at getting people into the park than it used to be, and so in short order we were walking through the tunnel under the Main Street train station. Those two vintage-poster-lined tunnels are the portals into Disneyland, and when you enter them you leave the outside world behind. Just as Walt intended. As the sign says, “Here you leave today and enter the world of yesterday, tomorrow and fantasy.”
Walt knew exactly what he was doing. You pop out into the town square, a vintage turn-of-the-century Main Street, and during the Christmas season there’s a huge Christmas tree in that town square, with the biggest ornaments you’ve ever seen. The sightlines (deliberately planned) draw your view down Main Street toward Sleeping Beauty’s castle, and those two different period settings are not as incongruous as it might seem at first. Walking down the charming Main Street, with its buildings appearing taller than they are thanks to the use of forced perspective, is a great transition to the hub in front of the castle. There, if you arrive early enough, a rope marks the entrance to the different “lands”, and that rope will drop at 8:00 a.m. to let the enthusiastic crowds into the park proper. Not unlike the Oklahoma land rush, really. That morning we arrived in time for “rope drop”, which boded well for us, because the first couple of hours at Disneyland during the busy holiday season are just golden; you can walk onto many rides without much of a wait.
Our “team” has a standard strategy, an order of rides, at Disneyland. Usually we head right to Indiana Jones, and while we’re in line (typically short at that hour) we book our first Lightning Lane reservation, a paid service which allows you a shorter line if you commit to a certain time slot. We then generally grab beignets at New Orleans Square, visit the Haunted Mansion and then see where the day and crowds take us. But that morning, we played it differently. Bridget wanted to do some things that we usually don’t do, one of which is spending time strolling in and out of the shops on Main Street, something I absolutely love doing myself. And we decided to do at least one ride we’ve never done before. At rope drop we headed directly for Galaxy’s Edge, the relatively new Star Wars land, to get on Rise of the Resistance, arguably the most popular ride in the park. It did not disappoint. Disney has learned much in its 70-year history at Disneyland, and the technology and experience on the newer rides is pretty darned good. We got in line and it moved pretty quickly, and one of the things Disney has become pretty good at is taking the sting out of waiting in line. The queue at Rise moves pretty rapidly through a number of scenes and scenarios that are interactive and part of the ride experience. By the time you actually board a ride vehicle you know you’re part of the Resistance, that you’re a prisoner of the First Order, and the rebels are counting on you to complete your mission. Video and animatronics of Star Wars characters are seamlessly worked in to the ride. And we had never done it before, because the lines are always too long. Check it off.
It was Carrie and Bridget’s idea to do it this way, and this brings up a larger truth of outings with my girls. I am more than happy to let them lead. My time doing that is pretty much over, and they’re just so good at it. Part of it is because they are so facile with the technology, all of which is done through your phone and the Disney app. You can see the wait times on the app, can choose your Lightning Lane reservations, and even order food which is waiting for you when you arrive at the counter. Genius. Nell and I were happy to just say, “Where are we going next?”
I’ve been taking my girls here since they were young. Ventura is within striking distance of Disneyland, so it’s never that much of a chore to do this. Their mom and I went through the stroller phase at Disneyland (I’m so glad to be out of that phase! Stroller parking in Fantasyland and near Small World is insane!) and even stayed overnight at the Disneyland Hotel with the kids. Benefits of that include breakfast with the characters, getting into the park an hour earlier, and perhaps most importantly, a place to nap (which everyone appreciates). And of course, the girls went through their own Disney Princess phase. What is it about Disney Princesses that so invites obsession? Bridget met Cinderella when she was very young, and was so shy she wouldn’t even look at her. Carrie’s favorite was Ariel, the Little Mermaid, who for obvious reasons (a tail) does not walk around but just appears in a grotto. My personal favorite was Pocohontas, because she was quite handy in the woods.
This Disneyland fixation didn’t start with my kids, of course. I grew up in LA and have been going to Disneyland since I was as small as Pinocchio. My parents took us, and it was no small feat, because there were six of us kids. When I remember these trips, it seems like we went every year, but my brothers and sisters assure me this wasn’t so. It just seems that way to me. If we didn’t go every year, we should have. It’s our birthright as Angelos. And it’s the nature of Disneyland, which is primarily visited by locals. It’s not a multiple-day destination vacation spot the way Disney World, in Florida is. In Florida Walt Disney bought more than 27,000 acres for his five theme parks and associated resorts. Disneyland, in contrast, occupies only about 500 acres and is rather hemmed in by commercial development. Absolutely doable as a day trip.
Perhaps a trip to Disneyland was relatively less expensive when I was growing up, back in the days of the ticket books. The famous E-ticket for the major attractions like the Matterhorn (which we never went on) and Pirates of the Caribbean; the lowly A-ticket was for Great Moments with Mr. Lincoln and the Main Street taxi. I don’t remember Disneyland being crowded back then, because it really wasn’t. Face it, EVERYTHING is more crowded these days, and more of a big deal. Our best days, or nights, at Disneyland were on “Chevron Night”, when Chevron employees like my dad received discounted tickets. And the absolute best was when it rained on Chevron Night. Then there was pretty much nobody at Disneyland, and you had free reign - or at least, that’s how I remember it.
How we remember it. That’s part of the allure, part of what makes Disneyland a touchstone for me, my kids, and many others. Again, Walt knew what he was doing. He created a world which was comfortable to return to, which was both timeless and ever-changing. There is a meme, or TikTok, in which the narrator observes that while many folks upon entering Main Street are glad to be back at Disneyland, others simply say, “Mickey, I’m home!” I have distinct memories of my brothers and me racing through Disneyland on that wet Chevron Night, of rain pouring off the red-and-white canopy roof of the Jungle Cruise boat, of the distinctive smell of the water as you enter Pirates of the Caribbean, probably my favorite ride at the park. On one family trip I wore a plastic Dodgers batting helmet, which I removed when I entered the boat on Pirates. I left it in the boat when I exited, much to my later chagrin, and to this day I look for that helmet – or at least I remember it – every time I step into a boat on that ride.
Intentional design features place Disneyland on a level of its own among amusement parks. Walt wanted a park that was fundamentally different from the hard-edged Coney Island-type amusement parks of mid-century America, a park that instead evoked the cleanliness and wooded surroundings of Copenhagen’s classy Tivoli Gardens. Walt surrounded the park with a berm that effectively excludes the outside world; when in Disneyland, your sightlines and the horizon are all Disney. I appreciate the attention to detail and the extraordinary cleanliness of Walt’s park. Trash, even spilled popcorn, is swept up within minutes of hitting the ground. The unfailing friendliness and engagement of the park staff, appropriately called cast members, is a model for public contact rarely found today, perhaps only at national parks and at Trader Joe’s. Walt wanted folks to return to the park time and time again, and so he was continually “plusing” the park, adding rides and features so guests would return. One thing that guarantees this is the built-in sensory overload on many rides. There is too much content to take in on just one ride on the Jungle Cruise, Pirates or Small World. Walt famously said, “Disneyland will never be completed. It will continue to grow as long as there is imagination left in the world.”
And though you could see Walt’s Disneyland vision of America as a very white bread version of our history, Disney was very egalitarian, and many aspects of his legacy underscore this. His EPCOT park in Florida celebrates and respects varied world cultures, and his Small World ride, first produced for the 1964 World’s Fair in New York, is as bold a statement about cultural appreciation and respect that you will find anywhere. Nell has suggested that if world leaders could only ride Small World together, most problems would be solved in short order. That ride remains a required element for me on any trip to Disneyland, particularly at Christmas, when Disney artist Mary Blair’s whimsical and innocent children frolic in diverse winter holiday scenes from around the world. Just don’t go in January – that’s when yearly refurbishment of the ride occurs, as we have learned from experience.
In the afternoon, we lucked into watching the Christmas-themed parade. After spending time perusing the Main Street shops, we exited a store to find folks lined up on the curbs of Main Street. Guests nail down curbside seats for hours before the parade, so we stood behind some curb-sitting guests who, surprisingly, left early during the parade. Nell and Bridget took their spots. As the parade of princesses, dancing gingerbread men and reindeer passed by, I looked at Bridget. Her eyes glistened. I suddenly realized she felt much the same way about this place as I did. Disneyland was a touchstone for her, a place not only of yearly good family memories, but a source of current joy as well. I was struck by this. Look, whatever common ground I can find with my adult kids, I’ll take, and it made me glad, even grateful, that we had this tradition of visiting Disneyland over the holidays.
I took note of other parade watchers. Five little girls, between the ages of 3 and 5, sat together on the curb across from us, their moms behind them. The girls were dressed as Disney princesses. Their attention was absolutely riveted on the oncoming characters and the floats which towered above them, and they craned their necks looking up at Cinderella, Woody, Mickey Mouse and finally the Big Guy himself. They would remember this, because the Magic was right in front of them, towered above them.
Not far from them stood a young woman, maybe in her late 20s, with her husband. She was all in: Minnie Mouse ears, Disney shirt, and she held a gift bag from one of the many stores. Her bright eyes, like those of the little girls, were riveted on the oncoming characters, dancers and floats. She sang the songs, and moved back and forth to the music. She even waved to the characters, and was delighted when they waved back. Her husband had a ballcap and mouse ears and held her hand as she reveled in Disney Christmas. Dude, I was thinking, you do realize you married a Disney girl, who is now a Disney adult? And that’s okay, more than fine. Take her to Disneyland once a year. You guys will be good. You’ll take your kids, too, and start another generation of memories. Look over here to see where that may get you: me, taking my girls - now in their mid to late 20s - to Disneyland over Christmas.
And Nell? Disney is part of our relationship. Nell and I have gone to Disneyland six times, I think, in the five years we’ve been together. Nell took her girls to Disneyland over the years, and they even had annual passes (the ultimate!) when her daughters were young. Nell loves it. She and I met during Covid, when Disneyland was closed. Fully a year later we made our first trip there with Bridget and Carrie, when it finally opened up, at reduced capacity. Each of us was masked up, but it was nonetheless great to be back there, and great to be there with Nell. She happily goes along with our gameplan for visiting the park – as long as she gets to ride Thunder Mountain at least once, and get beignets at New Orleans Square. I gotta admit, TM is as quintessential a Disney ride as there is. It’s certainly a throw-your-hands-up-and-scream thrill ride, but I also appreciate the scenery. The Bryce Canyon-inspired desert landscape, with its animatronic animals: desert tortoises, rattlesnakes, and the mountain goat with a lit stick of dynamite in its mouth. The dinosaur skeleton you scream through, and the quaint, smaller-scale western town of Rainbow Ridge, a vestige of the original 1950s Disneyland. Nell has sold me on the superlative qualitiess of Thunder Mountain.
The girls and I have always collected trading pins, and Bridget and Carrie brought their pin-filled lanyards on our recent trip. Bridget wore hers around her neck, like many do at the park; Carrie pulled hers out of her backpack and when she did that, I swore to bring mine on our next trip. There are multiple places at which to buy (and trade) pins at Disneyland. We favor the Westward Ho Trading Company, at the entrance to Frontierland. Nothing but pins there. The girls and I have a little tradition going; I buy them each a pin, and then they buy a couple more for themselves. We have different tastes, and theirs are wide-ranging, from newish characters (Star Wars, etc.) to princesses. My interests are more narrow: vintage Disneyland, Walt and rides, Disneyland trains.
It does occur to me that I might be into this maybe a wee bit more than the average Disneyland visitor. I have read (okay, bought) books on the creation of Disneyland and I have coffee table books about the park. I listen to a Disney history podcast - it’s actually one of the few podcasts I can stand listening to. I have been to the Disney family museum at the Presidio, in San Francisco. I have even seen The Artifact. Nell and I found ourselves at the Huntington Library one rainy winter day. I wanted her to see Thomas Gainsborough’s spectacular Blue Boy, but they also had a temporary exhibit on Disney history, of both films and the park (I swear, I did not know that before that day). I turned an exhibit corner and there it was: the original large-scale concept map of Disneyland (or at least Walt’s idea of it), sketched by Herb Ryman over a long cigarette-filled weekend in Walt’s office in 1952. The castle, the five lands surrounded by a turn-of-the-century railway – all there. It brought a lump to my throat, to tell you the truth. Every place has a history, maybe even an origin story or myth, and the artifacts to go with it. This was Disneyland’s. I doubt that anyone else in the room knew this, and the fact that I did – well, it does worry me a bit.
Hello, everyone. My name is Tim, and I just might be a Disney adult.
