I thought this was kind of funny, it was in a weekly e-mail that I receive:
FEATURE ARTICLE
Anticipation -- Almost as Much Fun as Being There!
by
Zamgwar
ALL EARS Guest Columnist
Some people are lucky enough to have the magic of the Mouse
practically in their own back yard. For them, Disney World
is not a vacation destination, but the location of their
local park, favorite restaurant or show. With just a swipe
of their annual pass, they can pop in for the day for lunch
at France or a quick Tower of Terror fix.
When a new show or attraction opens in Mouse World,
seeing it requires all the preparation of going
to the mall. Phrases like, "There's a new parade, let's go
Wednesday," or "Wanna catch Illuminations after dinner
tonight?" are the entire crux of their pre-trip planning.
They have their favorite servers and tables at their
favorite restaurants, their favorite Cast Member
attraction operators on their favorite rides.
They reek of Mouse savvy.
For the rest of us, a trip to "high-four" the Mickster
requires a *tad* more planning.
Our trips require giant bottles of change that must fill up
before we call Central Reservations. Calendars must be
scoured and vacation time requested well in advance.
Airlines, cars, and hotels must be booked. Countdown clocks
to the Mouse can have numbers upwards of 600 days. We are
lucky in one way that many of the local folks are not,
however.
We are blessed with Anticipation.
Anticipation of what the newest hotel or attraction will be
like (I'm *SO* excited I'll be at the Beach Club Villas for
opening day!). For those on the longest cycle of visits to
The Mouse, their Anticipation might include what the new
park will be like. Or the new PARKS.
It almost seems to not be an accident that Anticipation and
vacation sound so similar. Anticipation can be a way of
adding time to a vacation. For "She Who Must Be Obeyed" (aka
my wife) and me, it most certainly is. In fact, all of our
vacations, regardless of where we are going, have a number
of definite anticipatory steps. With Disney World, it's kind
of a 5 step program for Disney addicts.
Step 1: Admitting you need to see The Mouse
"Hi, my name is John, and I am a Disneyholic." This usually
is accompanied by an unexplainable need to give giant fuzzy-
headed characters a hug.
It may have been suddenly brought on by a year of
exceptional responsibility and hard work. Or maybe just a
reflection in the mirror one morning that looked more like
your parents and less like you. A flurry of phone calls to
Central Reservations or the Disney Vacation Club usually
follows, ending with the final realization that YOU'RE GOING
TO DISNEY WORLD.
Step 2: Vicarious Vacations
Almost immediately, the vast resources of friends and the
worldwide web are accessed. You're suddenly eager to see
those lengthy vacation videos and photos of your neighbor's
trip to Mousedom last month. You're even happy to see
perfect strangers' videos and pictures. (Those of you who
e-mailed me for mine KNOW WHO YOU ARE!) You find yourself
smiling and waving at Mouse commercials on TV and squealing,
"We're going!" -- even if no one else is in the room.
Suddenly it MATTERS what's going to be happening at The
Mouse five months from now.
Trip reports are read from beginning to end. In Disney
newsgroups across the web, subject headings like, "What's
the best character breakfast?", "Best rides for a
4-year-old?", "When is E-ride night?" or "Will Carousel of
Progress be open?" begin to appear. You don't care about the
latest newsgroup controversy and begin "deleting" any
article that does not give you what you crave -- direct
Mouse World input regarding your Vacation.
Step 3: The Battle Plan
Serious planning begins to take shape at 60 days. EVERYTHING
that can be read, is read. Over and over. Even those who
have been dozens of times are apt to buy a guide book just
for some fun reading.
Life and death decisions are calculated. What night for
Portobello Yacht Club? When will we see Fantasmic? What days
for Animal Kingdom?
In MY case, WHICH fireworks to see 4th of July.
As the 30-day mark approaches, resort hotel maps
are scoured and memorized.
This is where you'll have breakfast. This is where you'll
swim. This is where you'll have your nightly 10:30 p.m.
martini. (OK, so maybe that one is just in my scheme of
things.) An ever-changing battle plan begins to evolve for a
multi-day incursion.
Step 4: Dusting off the old Mouse-wear
Packing is a very personal thing, so I will speak personally
about it. Some begin packing well in advance of any trip.
Some wait until the last spin of the dryer the night before
departure. Some pack with the skill of an Air Force load
master, leaving nothing behind. Some stick a toothbrush in
their shirt pocket and hope for a good sale on underwear at
their destination.
Before I met and married She Who Must Be Obeyed, most of
what I packed was money, to purchase all the items I left
behind.
For the last bazillion happy years, however, packing has
been the pinnacle of Anticipation. It begins with the
arrival of the Vacation Packing Fairy.
There's nothing that brings more joy to this writer's mind
than when the "big as a friggin' house" suitcase magically
appears open and empty on the bed in the guest room. It
means something wonderful is about to happen. It means that
work, and all thoughts of it, will soon be gone. It means
great fun and adventure SOMEWHERE is about to be had. It
means my car stereo plays less Bob Marley and more
Zip-A-Dee-Doo-Dah.
As days go by, little piles of clothes and things in Ziploc
bags begin to surround the suitcase. A detailed replica, in
miniature, of our bathroom and the items in it, begins to
take shape. One by one over a period of days, the Packing
Fairy moves all the items into the suitcase. Finally, as if
from God above, those magic words, which signal the arrival
of the final step, resonate throughout the house.
'"JOHN, I've packed the whole suitcase, can you at
LEAST bring it downstairs?!"
Step 5: Pirates in Your Pillow
It doesn't matter how many times you've been to see Mickey.
It doesn't matter if the servers at Boma know you by name,
or if you've never been to the Mouse at all. As far as 72
hours in advance of your departure, truly mystical things
begin to happen in your pillow at night.
Train and steamboat whistles can be heard in distant parts
of the down. Pirates singing "Yo Ho" just below the pillow
case make sleep hard to come by. Fireworks appear on the
inside of your closed eyelids. You can SWEAR you smell Main
Street cookie dough. You hope for even the smallest amount
of sleep to help make the nights pass and your passage
through the Disney World main gates arrive.
Anticipation has a magic that can stretch a five-day, one-
week, or two-week vacation into a mental one that can last
for months. It makes the toughest days a little easier, and
the best of days even better. It has the power bring a smile
to your face, often when you need it the most.
Anticipation is a gift, as long as you realize that,
regardless of where you go, how much you pay, or where you
stay, having a good time on Vacation is entirely up to you.
Don't vacation as a critic, and don't let little things
bother you. If your favorite ride is no longer there, look
for a new favorite ride to take its place. If you run across
Cast Members who aren't smiling, share yours (remember, they
may have many days in the countdown clocks to THEIR
vacations). If it's hot, be happy it's not raining. If it's
raining, be happy it's not crowded. If it's crowded, rejoice
in all the opportunities to meet some wonderful people
around you while waiting on lines.
In my case, if my actual vacation doesn't match the vacation
"in my head" that I've anticipated, and I can't find the
silver linings in momentary downturns, it's my own
fault. It's a philosophy that always seems to work for me.
So far, each bit of time off
away has been better than the last.
I never get sad on the last day of a vacation.
I just switch to the "Anticipation" mode of my next.
May your countdown clock be short, your pillow
full of marvelous sounds, and your next vacation
be your best.
