Okay, readers. I have diagnosed a new disease. Without any formal medical training, but I did it. It's a condition that affects many, many guests at Walt Disney World. And what is it?
Magientitlmenitis.
It's a very serious condition, symptoms of which include temper tantrums, grabby hands, queue jumping, and massive disappointment. It is a communicable disease, transferred through overzealous trip planning and overwrought determination to plan the perfect experience, and can be exasperated by watching too many video clips of magical moments happening to strangers. Hotbeds of Magientitlmenitis are Facebook Disney groups and Pinterest. When combined with the 21st Century idea that if you create a dream board and visualize long and hard enough your wishes will come true, Magientitlmenitis has to power to ruin a Walt Disney World vacation in a matter of minutes.
You have been warned.
Here is the definition of magic:
magic
[mag-ik]
noun
- the art of producing illusions as entertainment by the use of sleight of hand, deceptive devices, etc; legerdemain; conjuring:
- the art of producing a desired effect or result through the use of incantation or various other techniques that presumably assure human control of supernatural agencies or the forces of nature:
- the use of this art:
- the effects produced:
- power or influence exerted through this art:
- any extraordinary or mystical influence, charm, power, etc.:
- the U.S. code name for information from decrypting machine-enciphered Japanese wireless messages before and during World War II.
adjective
- employed in magic:
- mysteriously enchanting; magical:
- of, relating to, or due to magic:
- prouding the effects of magic; magical:
verb (used with object)
- to create, transform, move, etc., by or as if by magic.
I felt it necessary to include the entire definition because at no point do I see magic including anything regarding unlimited FP+, free food, in-room surprises, free room upgrades, Gaston taking your daughter by the hand and parading her through the courtyard and giving her a rose, towel animals every day on the bed, being chosen as the family of the day to open Magic Kingdom, etc.
Unfortunately, people treat thse moments of pure magic as items on their Disney to-do list. Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of magic?
Don't be that guest. Don't fall prey to Magientitlmenitis.
While some of the uptick in this attitude is just the "me me ME!" world that we live in, Disney is not entirely faultless. When planning our most recent vacation I spent a lot of time on the phone or the chat line with both reservations and the help center. And during every single conversation, at one point or another the person I was talking with asked:
Are you celebrating anything with us this vacation?"
Truth is, we were. Our daughter's first birthday was just a couple weeks before we went (but seeing as how her actual birthday is during the week between Christmas and New Years, it will be a while before we head down there during that crazy busy time), both of my parents had birthdays in January, and I had just done a run of shows at the Guthrie Theater in Minneapolis. And so when I told this to the person I was speaking to, inevitably the answer was something along the lines of:
"Make sure to pick up a celebration button and wear it every day, and tell your waiter that you're celebrating!"
Because I'm good at doing what I'm told (most of the time), I did. We got our buttons and we wore them, and I told each waiter that we were celebrating birthdays. And at each restaurant our daughter was "surprised" with a free birthday cupcake (and at Chef Mickey's a card signed by the Fab Five).
But it didn't feel magical, because the people I talked to built it up for me to expect something magical if we did what they told us to do. That's not how magic works.
The most magical experience of our whole trip actually happened on our first night. We spent the afternoon and evening in Epcot because it was within walking distance of our resort, and Matilda was adjusting to being in a new place (and doing so with aplomb, I might add). We had a dinner reservation around 7pm, and I knew if she was goin to make it through dinner she needed a place to expel some energy. So we headed over to The Land pavilion, and after riding Living With The Land and seeing a nearly empty building, I put her down on the floor to crawl around.
She crawled over to the vacant gift shop outside the then closed Soarin' attraction, populated by only one cast member. I stopped her when she started to pull some merchandise off the shelf, apologized, and put it all away.
The cast member simply said, "That's okay! Does she like to color?" and from thin air produced a coloring sheet and three crayons. He then sat down on the floor with us while Matilda colored and told us all about how he loved working in The Land pavilion because he used to come to Disney every year with his family when he was a kid and they would always eat at Garden Grill upstairs. And now he gets to work here and meet families making their own traditions, right in view of where he sat with his parents and siblings each visit.
I started to tear up. Partly because the Xanax that I take before I fly was beginning to wear off, partly because I was with my daughter and my wife and my parents in Walt Disney World, and partly because this was the first time Matilda had ever made actual scribbles with a crayon on paper.
That's where the magic is. In the unexpected small times that touch your heart in a way you would never expect. That's why I love going to Walt Disney World.
Here is what I think that list actually is:
Honestly, that's what you can expect. Everything else? BONUS.