Disney or Bust!
We drove 1,200 miles to see a Mouse dressed as a Vampire.
Pirate
Press December 2025
An All-New Story in Familiar Packaging
For our 25th Wedding Anniversary, I wanted to do something special to express my gratitude to Amanda for tolerating me all these years. (30 years if you count how long we've actually been together.) I wistfully began planning this special occasion a year ago but life's ups and downs (okay, mostly downs) conspired to complicate any plans I tried to make. There was her three ICU visits in 2024, including the one in Memphis where she nearly met Elvis. This year has been a daily battle with Type 1 diabetes, neuropathy and balance issues from her 2018 brain surgery, thyroid deficiency, Celiac disease, Lupus, and a whole host of other undiagnosed illnesses that plague her constantly. The final straw of her sanity came at the end of August when she was suddenly informed that her position was being "dissolved" by the Healthcare company she had worked for the past three years. There was no warning, only a call from HR that she was no longer needed and would be escorted off the premises. Apparently, they thought she might get violent which I deemed hilarious. She called me sobbing so hard that I thought something terrible had happened to Victoria, so I was actually relieved when I found out she had only lost her job. Firing her was the latest move by the company to preserve their precious profit margins and ensure that all the execs continued to receive their overinflated salaries and bonuses generated by charging insurance companies $1000 for $10 worth of medicine. The two remaining employees have now had to absorb all of Amanda's duties and responsibilities with no pay increase and are actively looking for new jobs themselves. It was a toxic business culture so I'm glad she's gone but fate has certainly not been kind as she was completely blind-sided and had no other employment lined up.
Initially, I had wanted to take her to Hawaii but those plans fell through and then she mentioned wanting to see The Wizard of Oz at Sphere in Las Vegas. I was looking at tickets for that when she asserted what she really wanted to do was attend the the fall festival at Magic Kingdom, whimsically known as "Mickey's-Not-So-Scary Halloween Party." Perhaps it's the nostalgia as the only time we've ever attended it was on our first visit to Disney in 2009. Understandably, *ALOT* has changed since then, most notably the popularity and the prices. I clearly recall buying tickets to it the day of the event whereas now it's sold out months in advance. Likewise, the admission cost for all three of us was around $125 then, less than the cost of a single $159 ticket now. And that's for our September date— I've seen prices as high as $259 per person on October 31st. Make no mistake, Disney masquerades as "The Happiest Place on Earth" but their corporate greed is unrivaled. And with Amanda being unemployed, it would certainly make for our most financially irresponsible vacation ever.
But despite my disdain for Disney, I'm outnumbered so Amanda and Victoria got their way. As such, we left at 5:00am the day before to ensure there wouldn't be any SNAFUs the day of the event. Disney is adamant that there are NO REFUNDS for the party and that it happens rain or shine. I wasn't going to gamble the $500 I'd paid for tickets on their benevolence (or lack thereof) but there was a storm brewing that would certainly test their refund policy.
We've made the 8-hour drive to Orlando so many times now that I can practically do it in my sleep. However, that seems to be a luxury I'm never afforded as Amanda and Victoria are always the ones who get away with it while I'm stuck behind the wheel. But this time I was more vigilant than usual as our 2015 Hyundai Santa Fe had just recently crossed the extraordinary 200,000-mile threshold and I was keenly listening for any signs or symptoms of an impending breakdown. Within the past few years our Hyundai has developed an unpredictable assortment of maladies that have routinely fixed themselves but two that have not are the oil and antifreeze. Naturally, these two vital fluids require constant supervision as exsanguination of either could have engine-ending consequences. Because of that, I packed two gallons of Peak's Asian Vehicle antifreeze and a quart of 15w-40 High-Mileage motor oil. Curiously, the engine coolant is a beautiful blue raspberry color but tastes nothing like it. However, a couple swigs provide more of a jolt than any over-caffeinated energy drink thereby ensuring I'm wide awake. Likewise for the high-viscosity motor oil; the owner's manual stipulates 5w-20 but I've personally upped the thickness in an attempt to slow the consumption. That notwithstanding, I'm amazed that the turbocharged 2.0-liter engine still runs smoothly and continues to return almost 30 mpg on a steady diet of ignominious 87 octane. And as we drove south, the gasoline prices continued to march north ending up nearly $1 per gallon more in Orlando, the undisputed tourist-trap capital of Florida. Some predatory gas stations take advantage of gullible foreign travelers with prices that should be in liters instead of gallons.
Thankfully, there was a Florida State game being televised so most of the indigenous were ensconced in their dwellings dutifully destroying their brain cells with myriad chemicals when we arrived in Tallahassee. Yet despite record-high population growth, Florida's capital city seemingly cannot entice industry-leading restaurant franchises from fleeing. In the past few years, they've lost perennial favorites such as Chuy's, BurgerFi and most recently, Smash Burger. That left only Culver's as a viable option. It's also somewhat of a geographic anomaly as we have one in Mobile and Pensacola but there are no locations in the Northeast, Mid-Atlantic, West Coast, or Hawaii. Culver's is higher quality fare than typical fast food but I haven't eaten there since I first tried it in 2019. So with no other decent alternatives until Gainesville (which was 150 miles away) we decided to stop and give it another shot.
Back in 2021, Culver's posted an April Fool's joke of a giant cheese curd sandwiched between two buns an declared it the "Curder Burger." The response was so overwhelmingly positive that Culver's decided to actually offer it on the menu during Octoberfest every year. Originating from Wisconsin, cheese curds are a big part of their culture and I quite frankly enjoyed them much more than I expected to. However, I had to consume them with discretion as a large order packed 980 calories, more than even their double deluxe ButterBurger I ordered. And with another four hours before we reached Disney, I didn't want it to be evacuated faster than grease through a goose!
Back on the interstate, but before the dreaded I-75 interchange, I spotted a bright red convoy of three semi-trucks hauling colorfully-adorned trailers. As we drew closer, I thought my eyes were deceiving me as it looked like the famous Prancing Horse logo on them. Of course, I'm so Ferrari-obsessed that I'm accustomed to visualizing the Cavallino Rampante on just about everything, from clouds to mashed potatoes. However, this was no figment of my imagination as it was indeed a fleet returning to The Collection, the official Ferrari dealer of Miami.
Inside the cargo containers were several $425,000 296 Challenge cars, the racing version of Ferrari's standard 296 GTB road car. For a paltry $1 million per season (plus the cost of the car) any well-heeled individual can participate in Ferrari's race series. Currently, the top U.S. driver is Dylan Medler, a 21 year-old undergraduate student at the University of Miami. Although no occupation is listed, it's unclear where his financial support comes from as the Challenge series does not offer cash prizes nor is it presumably being bankrolled by his student loans. But if it is, I'd definitely like to enroll in that curriculum.
Differentiating his 296 Challenge car from the showroom version is the old racing adage that "Less is More." The complicated (and heavy) hybrid system in the street car is ditched in favor of keeping just the twin-turbocharged 3.0-liter V6. On it's own, the engine makes 690hp, down from the electrically-assisted 820hp but it revs 500rpm higher. The 296 also weighs 308 pounds less and benefits from wind-tunnel development that produces 1,900 pounds of downforce at 155mph. The net sum of these mechanical ministrations means that the Challenge car is significantly faster around a circuit than the production version, despite possessing 130 less horsepower.
And as much as I admire those automobiles, I certainly wouldn't have wanted to be driving one the rest of the way to Disney: There's only seating for two, zero room for any luggage, and worst of all— no luxuries like air-conditioning or sound-deadening.
Longtime friend B.J. Lyon (pictured in blue shirt) took delivery of his 296 GTB last Summer.
Meanwhile, our Santa Fe was commendably covering the miles but not without more red lights than Amsterdam's famous prostitution district. I counted five in total, although I surmised that three were for a faulty ABS wheel-speed sensor. The other seemed to reference a malfunctioning Blind Spot Detection system and a general Check Engine light. The Engine Light is a frequent visitor and the only adverse effect from it seems to be slightly worse fuel economy possibly indicating a bad oxygen sensor. But since none of them were actually hindering our progress— and the Cruise Control surprisingly still worked— I pressed on.
Near Ocala, we stopped for a short break at a rest area before resuming the final leg of our drive. We hadn't ventured far back onto the highway when I saw a commotion in front of us with several vehicles pulled off on the side of the highway. As we passed, I noticed it was the Ferrari crew with one of the employees furiously waving a red flag to warn other motorists of the traffic hazard. A regular accident can be costly enough but I can't imagine the damage when there's over $2 million worth of race cars involved. As Ferraris have a reputation for being notoriously unreliable, it led me to joke that their transporters are even less dependable than their cars!
Thankfully, (and unlike our last visit) we made it the final way to Lake Buena Vista without encountering any Suicidal Swifties. But while that was the first hurdle completed, I was acutely aware of Hurricane Gabrielle, a deadly Category 4 storm that was brewing off the eastern coast of Florida. With my luck, I was fully prepared for it to come ashore and wreck our plans but it never did so the weather gods were definitely on our side. In fact, there were 13 named storms this year, four of which became major hurricanes, yet not a single one made landfall in North America. Thanks to a fortuitous combination of atmospheric conditions like a big upper-level trough over the Eastern U.S. and a weaker subtropical high in the Atlantic, a pseudo weather-shield was formed that deflected hurricanes away and back out to sea. It was the first time in a decade that meteorologists had witnessed such an unusual phenomenon, and they were at a loss to explain it. But, without it, they warned that we would have looked back on this hurricane season very, very differently.
The Halloween Party didn't officially start until 7pm and concluded at Midnight, but we were allowed early entrance to Magic Kingdom at 4pm so we wanted to capitalize on it as much as possible. I warned Amanda and Victoria that while 8 hours sounds like a lot of time, it really wouldn't be. Indeed, 8 hours at work can drag on sometimes for a seeming eternity but the gates at Disney are like entering a Black Hole where time (and money) gets sucked away frighteningly faster.
We hadn't been to Orlando in almost three years so I was completely unprepared for how much worse the traffic had gotten. We used Waze as much as possible to skirt the Interstate 4 gridlock and we also tried to stick to the side roads. But even so, it generally took us around 15 minutes just to travel 3 miles. It makes me wonder if ignorance is bliss, why is everyone so angry?
The typical Interstate 4 traffic we encountered everywhere we went.
Since it was a spur-of-the-moment trip, all the Park hotels were booked so we ended up staying at a Marriott in Disney Springs. It turned out to be fantastic (and much quieter and cheaper than actually staying onsite) but their shuttle service ended before Midnight so we had to drive ourselves to Magic Kingdom for the party. On our trips in the past we've always been able to use some form of park transportation, whether it be boat, bus or monorail so I was reasonably confident it wouldn't be a big deal. After all, I've seen the huge parking lot outside Magic Kingdom crammed with thousands of cars so I knew there was plenty of room.
However, the first pain point came in learning we had to pay $30 just to park for the event, something I argued should have been included in the $159 Halloween tickets. Ideally, we could have skirted that by parking for free at Disney Springs and then catching a bus into Magic Kingdom, but again the late return hour prohibited that.
The next pain point came upon realizing that we couldn't actually park at Magic Kingdom. No, the brutal irony is that the thousands of cars parked there all belong to employees. Us— the paying customers— are treated like third-class Steerage passengers on the Titanic and were forced to park across the lake and catch a boat over to Magic Kingdom.
We were directed to a massive parking area where hundreds of other cars were also trickling in. Fortunately, Amanda had her Handicap placard so we were able to bypass a lot of the initial traffic and make our way to the front. But since every handicapped spot was already taken, I dropped them off at the very front and then had to drive around until I could find a vacant space. Even so, it was roughly a half-mile away so I briskly ran it in an attempt to avoid losing any more time.
After I rejoined them I learned we were in a shadowy netherworld called the "Ticket and Transportation Center". It's like Disney Purgatory where some tragic souls get stuck for eternity (or at least it feels like it). The name is a misnomer since you can't actually buy tickets and there are no specials characters, decorations or rides. It looks like a dystopian area out of "The Hunger Games" and adding to the misery, the heat and humidity were both simmering around 100. Eventually, the boat from Magic Kingdom arrived and we were crammed onto it like cattle going to a Charnal House. The only thing remaining was our journey across the River Styx to reach the Underworld.
Once we were miserably disgorged at the dock, everyone made a mad scramble for the entrance gates where we still had to provide our tickets and have our fingerprints scanned. From beginning to end, the entire process took nearly an hour which is completely unacceptable. Disney has the manpower and resources to streamline the process but since they already have our money there's no incentive for them to do better. Honestly, I'm sure the park employees would prefer we didn't even show up as some of them had quite the attitude about working the late-night event.
However, my first order of business was getting to TRON: Lightcycle Power run, the newest and fastest roller coaster at Disney. As the name implies, it's based on the TRON movie franchise which Disney has been desperately trying to resuscitate. (Spoiler Alert: TRON: Ares is looking to be the biggest box-office bomb of 2025 with a net loss of $132 million). But, when I think of TRON, I remember the 1982 movie and arcade game. While the movie had a cool premise that every teenage gamer dreamed about, the real draw was the cutting-edge graphics. Forty years on, they haven't aged well but I still was eager to try the life-size version of the game I spent so many quarters on during my formative years.
For my money, TRON is the most visually-impressive ride anywhere as the chameleonic, color-changing canopy is simply stunning, particularly at night when we rode it. The Upload Conduit ceiling covers the outdoor portion of the roller coaster and pulses with kinetic energy in waves of blue, orange and red. However, we learned that the red color was a temporary overlay to celebrate the tie-in with the TRON: Ares film. Victoria had ridden it earlier in the year with her college dance team and warned me not to sit in the front. She said it goes so fast that the wind and rain really stings your face.
Typically, the wait can be over an hour and many riders simply elect to pay an extra $20-25 for a Lightning Lane pass so they can skip the lines. Of course, Disney loves when they do this because it's just pure profit for them. Previously, every park ticket came with three Fast Passes that could be used on any ride but Disney cancelled that in 2021 and replaced it with the pay-per-ride scheme. Fortunately for us as Halloween Party guests, we didn't have to abide by those rules and were able to walk right on to Tron.
Appropriately, Tron is located in Tomorowland next to Space Mountain. Disney lore has it that the area was originally reserved for a Matterhorn ride similar to the one in Disneyland but that never materialized.
Unlike the musty, time-worn odor of, say, It's a Small World, Tron has that enticing "New Car Smell" of adhesive, plastic and vinyl. It's also the only Disney ride anywhere that requires you to place your belongings in a locker before boarding. Considering that Rock N' Roller Coaster subjects riders to three inversions and doesn't mandate a locker should also tell you something about how unruly TRON is. Prior to this, I believe Universal Studio's The Mummy is the only other ride that mandated a locker and it's notoriously rough.
Boarding the TRON ride.
Of course, with a total of 14 seats in pairs of two, Victoria and I got stuck in the very front, exactly what she had warned me about due to the eye-watering acceleration and lack of any windscreen.
The Lightcycles in TRON are also quite similar to the "Banshees" that guests ride in Avatar's Flight of Passage only they're not static displays. Nope, the Lightcycles leap to 60 mph in under 3 seconds for an exhilarating slingshot launch. Although there's no exact figure, estimates put that number between 2.5 to 2.8 seconds before it climbs nearly 80 feet up and around.
Pressed to describe it with an adjective, I think "Violent" is probably the best approximation given that the definition is for something "marked by the use of harmful or destructive physical force." Indeed, I felt like a hapless passenger astride an atomic bull. Victoria really enjoyed the kinetic frenzy but I had imagined something that was both smooth and fast, like a real Lightcycle. Mercifully, it was over in 60 seconds with a great sense of relief that my wife is all too familiar with.
And away we go!
Amanda and Victoria also dragged me on the new Splash Mountain ride which was "re-themed" in 2024. The $150 million overhaul was spent to promote Disney's radical, political indoctrination which focuses on erasing our history rather than acknowledging it. Interestingly, it also conveniently shies away from the dark depiction of voodoo, black magic, bloody amulets and Ouija boards portrayed in the 2009 film that the new ride is based on. It seems Disney has quite the case of amnesia when it financially benefits their causes and helps advance their agenda.
"Tiana's Bayou Adventure" takes place in a fictionalized New Orleans and I took exception to the fact of how inaccurately The Big Easy was portrayed. Therefore, I jotted a few notes down during the 9 minute ride and I plan to forward them on to Disney's Illuminati Imagineering department so they can achieve the most authentic experience possible:
Board the boat: You'll board a log-shaped boat with a lap bar. Be prepared to step over the side of the boat to get in, carefully avoiding the spent ammo casings, empty beer cans and used hypodermic needles.
Begin the indoor journey: The boat will move through The French Quarter, where you'll witness such urban spectacles as a collapsing Hard Rock Hotel, raging fires, and leaking levees that will eventually burst and flood the city.
Encounter bayou critters: You will meet and hear various individuals such as crooked politicians, dirty cops, prostitutes and other New Orleans-style inhabitants engaged in numerous illicit activities.
Witness a magical moment: Disgraced current mayor LaToya "The Destroyer" Cantrell appears and uses her "magic" to make $70,000 in taxpayer dollars suddenly disappear.
Experience the drop: The boat will ascend a lift hill before descending the 52-foot drop at a 45-degree angle that simulates the 955-ft. plunge off the top of the Huey P. Long Bridge, a personal favorite of Crescent City suicide jumpers.
Enjoy the party: The ride concludes with a celebration in Hell presided over by Tom Benson, where you'll see the party in full swing and hear such prophetic music as "When The Saints Go Marching In."
Exit the ride: You will disembark the boat and head to the gift shop where you can purchase multiple over-priced items produced by the finest child labor in Bangladesh or indulge in beignets sprinkled with fentanyl (aka "Pixie Dust").
Incidentally, the picture above (and the one of us riding the Lightcycles) are part of Disney's "Memory Maker" service that takes snapshots that they then use to extort guests for criminally-large sums of money. For instance, avaricious Disney wants $210 for the handful of pictures that were taken of us on various rides. You can preview them in the Disney app, but they are watermarked to discourage people from using them as evidenced below in the "uncorrected" photo:
In the past, a common practice has been to screenshot the pictures and upload them to social media anyway. However, even doing that has apparently outraged Disney enough that they went a step further and implemented a protection in the app that now blacks out the picture any time the screenshot function is used. In my opinion, this is beyond petty but it infuriated me so much that I deliberately invested the necessary time to circumvent these restrictions so I could present the pictures here without paying them a single cent!
For our last meal in Orlando, I gave Amanda a laundry list of new places I thought we'd enjoy and asked her to pick one. Ironically, she picked Skyline Chili, which was the one I was least excited about. Truthfully, I'm not a big fan of chili and I believe it should only be consumed when it's actually chilly (and it definitely was not!) However, it has a huge cult-following so I decided to follow-thru and try it despite my apprehension. Fortunately, it was located in a new multi-use hotel, shopping and dining district known as Flamingo Crossings which was conveniently close to Disney's Animal Kingdom.
My mistake was believing that chili (notably the popular Texas-style) is all the same so I was in for quite a surprise when I discovered what makes Cincinnati-style so special. For starters, it's served over thin spaghetti noodles and the hamburger on top is seasoned in a secret 100 year-old Greek blend of cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and chocolate. Admittedly, it sounds unappetizing so it's probably a good thing I didn't know the ingredients beforehand. Also, I learned the proper way to order it is "Three Way" which constitutes the spaghetti, meat and topped with a pound of freshly shredded cheddar cheese. Indeed, it's hard to spot the chili due to the fromage overload. Finally, requesting it "Four Way" is with beans or onions while "Five Way" includes them both and is quite a hearty serving.
If Heaven doesn't have Skyline Chili, I don't wanna go!
Skyline's unique twist on the crackers also sees traditional Saltines swapped for oyster crackers (traditionally used with seafood) and it was the first time I've ever had them. Ironically, not only was it our cheapest meal, it was also my favorite due to the extraordinary flavor profile of the chili. Sadly, the nearest location not in Orlando is in Kentucky which is an even longer distance to drive. So, unless I'm visiting the Corvette factory in Bowling Green, the odds are slim to none that I'll be having Skyline again unless we're in Disney.
On the 8-hour drive back, I was keenly aware of Florida's recently passed House Bill 351. Known as the "Super Speeder" law, it's their latest way of generating income from motorists caught driving 50 mph over the posted limit or exceeding 100 mph. The first offense includes Up to 30 days in jail, a $500 fine, or both and I've seen videos circulating with police aggressively taking violators straight to jail. Of course, this abusive form of enforcement isn't realistic and does little for overall safety as anyone who's driven I-75 knows— if you're not doing at least 85 mph you're holding up traffic and likely to be rear-ended. Not surprisingly, I'm also guilty of surpassing 100 mph on our way home but I made sure there weren't any cops around when I did. Like I told Amanda, if they didn't want me to speed, they shouldn't have built Disney 500 miles away!
As we made it back into Alabama, I asked anyone if they wanted to stop at Buc-ee's and the answer was a resounding "No!" and I knew why: Back in 2017, we visited Buc-ee's (aka "Butt-cheeks") for the first time in Houston and it was a lot of fun. However, with two locations now within 100 miles of us, the luster is completely gone. Buc-ee's avarice-fueled expansion has ruined the novelty and excitement we used to feel. It's no longer special and the social-media popularity has made the whole experience miserable. Thanks to the incessant crowds, none of us want to deal with the nightmarish parking, shopping or prices. Buc-ee's has 36 travel centers in it's home state of Texas which grossed over $2 billion last year but apparently that's not enough for owner Arch Aplin. So, unless he decides to open "Hooters"-style strip clubs in each location called "Beavers", I don't have a reason to return.
Hopefully coming soon to a Buc-ee's near you!
Finally, we discovered that while the night we attended the Halloween party had been brutally hot, the attendees for the next night had quite literally —no pun intended— weathered a junior hurricane. Ferocious thunderstorms rolled in ruining the night for everyone. It sorely tested Disney's "No Refund" policy but despite the thousands of angry guests, no one was repaid their money. Instead, they were offered a One-Day Park Pass good for the next twelve months, which may or may not work with their future plans.
And as for our anniversary vacation, I can't surmise it better than to quote the oddly-prescient lyrics of "It's a Small World." Because after receiving the credit card bill, it was indeed "A world of tears."
