My family’s trip to Disneyland (etc.) involved a lot of twists and turns, a lot of hours behind the wheel and hours waiting in the hot sun. I doubt I handled any of it well. The story is told in three parts; this is the third…
Fun isn’t very interesting. Not the way I write it. In two previous posts (linked here and here), I’ve discussed the drive from Dillon, Montana, to Disneyland. That was easy to cover: Horrible experiences usually are. So the drive to Disneyland was nightmarish, but…it was pretty much a good time from then on. Sure, tickets ended up costing northwards of $1000 as we hit all the major parks, from Mickey’s place to Universal Studios, and a bout of heatstroke sent me reeling back to the hotel at one point for an hour-long shower followed by several more hours of napping and alternately shivering/sweating. And my daughter got stung by a bee. And ITT Tech emailed my wife to tell her that after five years of online teaching, she was no longer deemed qualified to teach for them—to teach classes that, in several cases, she designed from the ground up.
No surprise to see how things turned out for ITT. (Insert image of me smiling, giving a double thumbs-up, filled with schadenfreude…)
Everyone got along, more or less, the whole time. When John rode The Tower of Terror for the first time, strapped in on my left, I saw him nearly lose his hat as the bottom dropped away from us, saw him in that frozen, startled moment where gravity sent him (and me) in one direction so suddenly that his hat levitated off of his head and would have been lost if he hadn’t snatched it back. When Sam and I did California Screaming, we locked eyes in that instant of hesitation, that instant when the rollercoaster cars reached the peak and then threw us into Sam’s first-ever loop-the-loop. She loved it. She didn’t lose her hat (that came later, on the water/log ride). Those are moments burned into me, stories without plotlines and best left to the poets.
For the rest of this story, see the complete published version here.