The Real Trick
During one of my earlier birthdays, I received a box full of magic tricks. I love performing and I love magic, so I thought having the two go together would make me a perfect magician. I would assemble my siblings post-dinner into the rec room of our home and perform the eight different tricks that came inside the box. Some were easy to figure out the magic; others were nearly impossible for an almost-eight-year-old to perform. Regardless, I never let that stop me from feeling magical in the moment.
There were also the times I would stay up past bedtime and watch the David Copperfield special where he promised that those at home could take part in the magic as well. He instructed us to get close to the television… which already felt like a crime to be so close to the screen. Then he displayed a set of playing cards and told us to focus on one particular card. As he told us to move, following a random set of directions like, “think of a color and move that many spaces based on the letters that are in the color you thought of…” Finally, there were two cards remaining on the screen. My heart would be racing until, finally, it was revealed: David Copperfield had indeed been thinking of the same card I initially selected at the beginning of the trick. My love of magic continued to intensify.
I was going to say there is no place more magical in all of Southern California than Disneyland (since that’s where this essay will eventually land) but that would completely erase the Magic Castle, and as someone who loves magicians, I won’t be party to that kind of erasure. I wish I had a more magical story about the Magic Castle to share, but in the 15 years I’ve lived in Los Angeles, I have yet to go. The one and only trip I took was before I even lived here when, coincidentally, a singer from New York, Anne Fraser Thomas, was performing at the cabaret space in the basement of the Magic Castle. Purchasing a ticket gave you entry into the exclusive club, and that was about as magical as it got.
So, yes, let’s visit the most magical, happiest of places in Southern California: Disneyland. Where you can walk in just about any direction and see a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, a couple on the verge of divorce, and teenagers figuring out how they can break some kind of rule. All this to say, I love Disneyland. I love going and escaping whatever is happening in the world, turning off the brain to reality, and turning on whatever part of the mind controls my ability to think a grown adult in a dog costume is perfectly normal.
In 2015, after going solo to Disney for the first time, I bit the bullet and applied the ticket price to the SoCal Resident Annual Pass. It worked perfectly: I could go about once a month and have a little Disney day. I created a Disney-themed Instagram account so that my regular feed wouldn’t become insufferable photos of me and Mickey Mouse. I used those trips to brush up on my improv skills as I chatted with the Face Characters, “yes, and-ing” my way through the park.
By the time my annual pass was set to expire, I was given the most lovely of Father’s Day presents from my boss: the highest-level annual pass. The year of magic would continue, with no blackout dates and a slew of other top-tier benefits… benefits that I would not be able to live without going forward, and I feared that when this pass expired, my days at Disney would in fact be numbered. With this inevitable conclusion, I set out to have the most magical of years. I celebrated birthdays and Christmas at Disney. I stopped on the way home from trips to San Diego, simply because I could. I wouldn’t have traded those two magical years for anything. I left knowing I had truly had a magical time at Disney, and I didn’t think I could top the experience.
During that time period, I asked my boss if I could take Oliver, who was nearly three years old now, to Disney for my birthday. I didn’t know it at the time, but Disneyland was a big deal in their family. Oliver’s grandfather worked there and was part of the team that built the Main Street Electrical Parade (if I understand the family’s history correctly). Turns out taking Oliver for his first Disney trip was more involved than I anticipated, and my simple one-day birthday excursion turned into a full weekend celebration. Definitely not the magical experience I anticipated, but welcomed nonetheless.
The family got adjoining rooms at the Grand Californian Hotel complete with a birthday package for me that included two baskets worth of Disney swag. The weekend included two days at the park, including a character breakfast. Talk about a magical turn of events. The weather in March may not have been the greatest, but getting to be a part of this first trip to Disney was something I didn’t think I’d ever get to experience. Unfortunately, it wasn’t without disaster. While my boss was getting the hotel situation under control and awaiting her husband’s arrival, I got Oliver into the park and walked around. Thinking this would be a breeze, I decided to give it a go and settled in on a ride: The Little Mermaid. Oliver, still little enough to hold, I carried through the queue until we arrived at our clamshell and sat in. Bright-eyed and full of wonder, I was ready to see this Disney magic come to life right before my very eyes.
Not the case. Only a mere few moments into the ride, when everything goes dark, Oliver let out a blood-curdling scream. For the next several minutes as our clamshell twisted and made its way through the underwater story, Oliver screamed and cried and I couldn’t believe this was happening. How do I make it stop? The ride or Oliver, I wasn’t quite sure. I just knew I had broken him. Disney was ruined. The magic was not alive in this kid. We hadn’t even been in the park twenty minutes and already this was a complete disaster.
When the ride ended and I scooped Oliver up out of the clamshell, we made our way back into the streets of California Adventure, and I did my best to comfort him. This kid, whose face was now the shade of a strawberry, finally was able to compose himself. We dried his tears and attempted to find something less scary.
Less scary than The Little Mermaid? Talk about a challenge.
Luckily we found some characters, and all of a sudden, the Disney magic returned. All was not lost, thankfully.
Over the years, I’ve been very fortunate to get to take Oliver to Disneyland, which has become one of his favorite birthday traditions. The diabetes camp we would attend has its annual gala at Disneyland, which coincides with Oliver’s birthday, so for several years now, it’s been a magical weekend that also includes dressing up and getting to attend a gala.
With Oliver’s eleventh birthday approaching, he wanted to go to Disney with me, having gone with his mom the previous year. For nearly two months, Oliver planned and budgeted this year’s trip. He negotiated terms regarding how many nights, which hotel, and how we would make the most out of the time we have. I love seeing him plan this meticulously, but I also didn’t want him to worry so much about the “grown-up stuff.” Just enjoy the magic. But that’s who he is now, and I’m here to support, so that’s what I’m doing.
I had my two years of Disney fun, where I got to make all the rules and follow whatever path I felt like that day. Now, it’s Oliver’s turn, and I’m happy to be his guide. I don’t dictate where we should go or what we should ride… thankfully that one trip on The Little Mermaid didn’t ruin all attractions for him. In fact, he’s pretty fearless now when it comes to rides. I still haven’t gone on Tiana’s/Splash Mountain/Whatever, I don’t like drops, I don’t like getting wet, not for me. But this year Oliver was set on going on it, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him no. So we got him in the single rider line, and I watched as he was assigned a placement, then I rushed to the exit and waited. He loved it so much he went on it back-to-back.
There’s also a new level of concern when it comes to Oliver at Disneyland. With every step we take and every bite we eat, I’m constantly monitoring his blood sugar. Making sure he doesn’t go too high or, worse, too low. For the most part, this weekend was successful in terms of managing his diabetes. We managed a buffet dinner at Goofy’s Kitchen without incident, enjoyed some Disneyland staples, and never needed to take a break because T1D got the best of us.
For all my worrying that first trip that the magic was gone from Oliver and I ruined Disney for him, I think the opposite happened. I have been to the park several times and with many different friends throughout the years, but I have never met anyone who contains more magic than Oliver at Disney. I’ve also never witnessed him so polite and considerate as he is at the park. When I walk around and see kids crying all the time, Oliver has yet to have that kind of emotional meltdown. When he told the cast member at Big Thunder Mountain Railroad, “Thank you, this is my favorite ride!” upon exiting, we were ushered to a small corner nearby and told to hop back on, getting to ride a second time.
And this year, after successfully doing a pin trade at a shop, Oliver started chatting with the cast member, telling them it was his birthday trip, he’s been now six times, and absolutely loves the park. It happened so suddenly, but one of the cast members grabbed a Mickey hat and started embroidering Oliver’s name on the back of it. She handed it to Oliver, who suddenly was taken aback by the kind gesture, and I could even see a little tear welling up. He was speechless. And then the second cast member handed him the ‘Honorary Disneyland Citizen’ pin, and I thought he was about to burst into tears of happiness.
I love experiencing magical moments like that, seeing Oliver simply being himself as the world around him recognizes how special he is. I used to think my two years with that top-tier annual pass were as good as the magic was ever going to get. But standing there watching him hold that Honorary Disneyland Citizen pin, tears of happiness welling up in his eyes, I knew the real trick was never about escaping into my own little world. It was getting to sit in the front row and watch Oliver create his.
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