Making The Happiest Place on Earth a Little More Gay

Walt Disney World was in its infancy when I first walked through the gates of the Magic Kingdom. It was the country’s bicentennial - 1976 – a year that also marked the first and last vacation the family Tella ever took together as a complete unit. Alas, getting to the house of Mickey Mouse was not going to be easy, as back then, my mother was far from the world traveler that she is today. For a day and a half, we were stuck on an Amtrak train, seeing parts of the country that to this day, I have no desire to ever see again. It is without a doubt, the reason I am no fan of road trips. If it takes longer than two hours to get somewhere, then I’m logging onto United.com.

There was only one park then, for the theme park behemoth was in its infancy – its current massive Orlando footprint a far off imagination. Growing up, my brother and I were never allowed to stay up late – so you can picture how exciting and wonderful it was that during that week, we were allowed to stay up until the park closed its gates at midnight. Midnight. I was able to pass twelve o’clock – the time Cinderella had to be home after dancing with her prince or her coach would turn into a pumpkin and she once again would be clothed in her tattered rags. For an eleven-year-old boy who dreamed of a world where imagination was limitless, it was the ultimate high. And to make it even more special, my father had gotten us all “E” tickets. Alas, if you don’t know the history of the lettered tickets, there’s no Disney hope for you.

Even back then, I was the one in charge. I determined where we ate lunch, what rides we went on and where in the park we should be at the proper time to see the parade or the characters.  If we got lost or separated, my brother and I were told simply to meet in front of the post office on Main Street. There were no mobile phones and no worries about being kidnapped by pedophiles. Looking back, I miss those times. Where did the innocence disappear?

During our quest to meet every single character in the park and get their autograph (don't ask), the one who stands out the most was Tigger. I can only imagine the worst now about the feisty person in that costume. He pawed at us  – it was an innocent time, remember? Of course, it probably was nothing – for I was hardly a slim and handsome little boy that would cause anyone to think lascivious thoughts. Thankfully, I grew out of that awkward stage and today, when I seek out the characters, I can only hope for the opposite truth. Especially since the gay days at Disneyland Resort in California are now one of the best times of the year for me. 

It was 1990 when I first walked into Walt Disney’s original creation and eight years later, I was one of the about 2,500 people in attendance at the very first gay days event. Now, over 30,000 descend upon the park every first weekend in October. If you didn’t think the Disneyland Parade was gay before, then you should watch it among the sea of red shirts gathered outside of It’s a Small World. No matter how many words I write to describe it, I couldn’t do it justice. What always causes me to laugh, however, is just how many straight men like the color red. It takes them some time to figure out just what is going on during this particular day and the result is always priceless.

This year, my friend Josh is flying out from Boston to join me and just like that first and only vacation visit, I am still the one in control of the path we take through the park, where we eat and where we go to find our favorite characters for pictures. I avoid Tigger since I don’t know who’s inside that costume and set my sights on the princes. After all, we’re going to be up well past midnight and if I can score a date with a prince, real or Disney-fied, finding my clothes in tatters would be a whole different fairy tale.