Like Father, Like Son

 

“Those who don’t remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”

A chilling dose of reality hit me when I got a wake-up call from my son Brad at 5:30 AM - our first day at Disney.  He wanted to make sure that my wife and I were going to be ready to depart at 6 AM to catch our bus so we could lineup for the early entrance at the Magic Kingdom.  

“Why do we have to leave at 6 AM?,” I asked. This seemed to be a legitimate question a normal human being would ask. We were staying inside the park, which meant we were about 12 minutes from the gate. And we were admitted 30 minutes before the general public. So logic tells you that leaving at 7:30 AM should give you more than enough time. But as we all know, the Magic Kingdom doesn’t operate on human logic, but park logic - which never makes any sense. 

He answered me like Einstein talking to an elementary school student, adding a dollop of sarcasm. “Because our trip planner told us we need to be waiting at the gate, at least 90 minutes before they open.”

Sadly, I knew what this conversation meant - my son has become me.  

You see, the first time I took my family to Disney, I was a man whose stated goal was get on as many rides as possible. So I insisted that we go to the park after our 10 hour drive. As a result, by 

9 PM all of us were tired, angry, and irritable - so much so that my youngest son Brad finally laid down on the sidewalk and pitched a fit. Clearly, this was my fault, not his. And now 30 years later, I was watching him do the  same thing with his family (and us) - bouncing from one ride to another like a pinball machine to maximize the “Disney Experience”. This ranks up there with Custer saying, “Hey, I’ve got a good idea.  Let’s attack those Indians over there.”  Yes - Disney World became our family’s Little Big Horn.

Unlike me, who used a detailed planning book to schedule every minute, my son micromanaged the family using 21st century technology, aka the Disney App. Among other things, it gives you the average wait time for each ride. It should monitor your blood pressure to make sure you don’t have a stress-induced stroke. Thanks to the app, we rode with the least amount of standing in line. Of course, it required us to zig-zag across the park a half dozen more times, which resulted in us walking several extra miles by day’s end. Apparently, it was very important for Brad to squeeze the joy out of our experience in order to ride a couple of extra rides each day. My plantar fasciitis did not appreciate it one bit. 

He fussed, he fumed. He even blamed all of his antics on “sensory overload”. I laughed to myself and thought, “Hey, get a grip, Pluto. This is Disney World - this whole place is built on sensory overload.” Whatever the reason, he made all of us miserable.

Finally, I felt compelled to have a father to son talk. 

I spoke gently saying, “I want to give you a piece of advice that I had to learn, and I hope it won’t be as difficult for you to process as it was for me. Do you remember when you were six years old and we came down here?”

He nodded and I continued. 

“Then you remembered how I pushed and pushed us. Honestly, it took the joy out of the trip. I see that now. And I also see that you are becoming what I was. Please don’t be me. I didn’t like who I was then and what I made the trip become -  and you are doing the same exact same thing.  I learned - you need to learn too.”

I was telling the truth. When we went to Disney a second time, things were different. I stopped the Nazi drill tactics and became a kinder, gentler Dad. I took things as they came. Sure, I wanted to ride all the rides, but if we didn’t get to them, it was fine.  We even took a break from the parks every afternoon and returned in the early evening. It made for a much better outcome. 

However, I’m not sure it sank in with my son. He became a bit less belligerent, but still pushed us to get on as many rides as we could.  I’m sure that he, like many other people, was calculating the cost per ride each time we got on a roller coaster. Thinking like that will make you Goofy (pun intended). And, it kept the whole family in a constant state of pissedoffedness. 

Hopefully, he will have a point of clarity the next time he goes. I sincerely hope so.  It will make the lives of his family markedly better.  After all, as Custer discovered, one Little Big Horn is enough for anybody. 

And you just might not get out alive.

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