“Disneyland!”
Daughter D could not get that close to Disneyland without the vortex of it pulling her in. It is her favorite spot on the planet. “The Happiest Place on Earth,” they call it, and she thinks so as well. And it turned out to be about one block from I-5 after we came in on 395 through San Bernardino and Riverside where the living is easy and the traffic is horrendous.
We had closed the circle that began two years ago. At that time DD had determined she wanted a child and thought Disneyland would be the perfect place to begin the process. The timing wasn’t right, the logistics weren’t right, but it was the place of INTENTION.
“Isn’t it something,” says DD, "that we can have an idea, you work toward it, and there it is.”
Two years later:
DD wanted to hold Baby D up to the Walt Disney stature as she had raised her arms to it two years ago. It was to imbibe her Man Cub with the qualities that made Disney special.
Creativity, playfulness, humanity, perseverance, vision, determination, artistic endeavor, Disney embraced them all with vigor.
Thinking back Walt Disney was not the best artist, but he was a visionary, and a humanitarian. He built the walks in Disneyland to follow the natural wanderings of people, not predetermined directions. He built the animatronic people ¾ size so as not to overshadow the real people. He hired Imagineers and declared that, “The formula is there is no formula.”
We weren’t there for the rides, we were there for the magic. We were there for the Man Cub (Baby D), and for us. Daughter D and I consider Disneyland “Continuing education.” The Imagineers know about layering—that is detail heaped upon detail. It is more than the eye can grasp, but those details add dimension that is at first not perceivable, but it gives depth and feeling.
And the plants were perfect everyplace, and flowers…
We marveled at how perfect the plants were. There were jungle plants, succulents, cactus, Evergreens, pines and firs, flowers in the ground and in containers, roses, all within the acreage that is Disneyland, and living in perfect harmony. What a horticulturist feat.
Many people see the crowds—they were there, and because of the multitude one would get the idea that there was no problem with the economy. We didn’t stand in lines more than a couple of times, one to ride “Finding Nemo,” a remade of the old Submarine ride. Baby D loved it. He watched the bubbles, and waved his arms, and I got the impression that he is a water baby like his mother. Oh, and he is a sunshine lover like his Grandmother. And we took the Peter Pan ride that was flying over a miniature city, that he “Goo gooed,” through.
The weather was hot, and because of the heat we thought we would have to leave the dogs in the kennel, but turning off Harbor Boulevard onto Katella, we saw the Desert Palms Hotel with covered parking behind the building and in the shade. Viola’. We left the dogs in the van, checked into the hotel, walked the 10 minutes to Disneyland, and soaked in the magic.
Elevation 158 feet. Perfect.
Thinking back Walt Disney was not the best artist, but he was a visionary, and a humanitarian. He built the walks in Disneyland to follow the natural wanderings of people, not predetermined directions. He built the animatronic people ¾ size so as not to overshadow the real people. He hired Imagineers and declared that, “The formula is there is no formula.”
We weren’t there for the rides, we were there for the magic. We were there for the Man Cub (Baby D), and for us. Daughter D and I consider Disneyland “Continuing education.” The Imagineers know about layering—that is detail heaped upon detail. It is more than the eye can grasp, but those details add dimension that is at first not perceivable, but it gives depth and feeling.
And the plants were perfect everyplace, and flowers…
We marveled at how perfect the plants were. There were jungle plants, succulents, cactus, Evergreens, pines and firs, flowers in the ground and in containers, roses, all within the acreage that is Disneyland, and living in perfect harmony. What a horticulturist feat.
Many people see the crowds—they were there, and because of the multitude one would get the idea that there was no problem with the economy. We didn’t stand in lines more than a couple of times, one to ride “Finding Nemo,” a remade of the old Submarine ride. Baby D loved it. He watched the bubbles, and waved his arms, and I got the impression that he is a water baby like his mother. Oh, and he is a sunshine lover like his Grandmother. And we took the Peter Pan ride that was flying over a miniature city, that he “Goo gooed,” through.
The weather was hot, and because of the heat we thought we would have to leave the dogs in the kennel, but turning off Harbor Boulevard onto Katella, we saw the Desert Palms Hotel with covered parking behind the building and in the shade. Viola’. We left the dogs in the van, checked into the hotel, walked the 10 minutes to Disneyland, and soaked in the magic.
Elevation 158 feet. Perfect.
