The Jungle Cruise

I have always lived a rich fantasy life. My mother will often roll her eyes when I start telling her about my memories of my childhood because I remember things that never happened. I remember people that I have never met, places I've never been and situations that I've never faced. I have always had an overactive imagination and apparently my young mind couldn't quite figure out what thoughts to store and which ones to discard. This, by the way, is a constant problem as my mind latches on to completely useless information and gets rid of things I need to remember. My social security number? It will take me a minute. Words to a jingle from an Outback commercial when I was eleven? Of course I remember every word.

 

As a kid I loved playing in the forested area behind our house, building forts, trekking through the leaves to find streams or mysterious hidden places. My imagination would occasionally get the better of me and I would have to run out of the trees certain that I had seen a wild animal or was being stalked by some sort of native tribe. I loved the allure of gorgeous jungles with its hot steamy weather and exotic wildlife, even if it was just in my backyard.

 

Naturally I blame Disney.

 

I always can remember the first ride that my family would arrive at on our trip to Disneyland. The line wound around a fascinating collection of jungle-themed items, and every now and then I could peek around the crowd and see the trees just beyond the water. The strange sound of birds is intermittently interrupted by the roar of a boat motor and the sounds of crowds being ushered aboard. I think I got so excited about this because it was the first ride and I was on an adrenaline rush about being at Disneyland again, so the Jungle Cruise has always held a little extra magic for me.  

 

A lot of people only seem to remember the corny jokes that the skipper tells as you float past the robotic animals, but most of them went over my head as a kid, so all I remember is the fascination with the imagery around me. I particularly loved the animals that would pop up out of the water, and the elephant bathing pool. (I have a strong obsession with elephants. Again, I blame Disney) Since we got there early in the morning, the sun would be filtering down through the leaves in a magical fashion, bouncing off the greenish water and casting dramatic shadows on the beasts hiding in the trees. I love this ride.

 

 

I had to take it all in fast, because my mother was not fond of going on rides twice in one day. I think this is because we always went in the summer when the lines were the longest and waiting in line with children wasn't the easiest thing to do. I would stare out of the boat and take in every detail that I could, willing myself to store every image. Later on I would recount my journey to my younger neighbors as if I had just gotten back from the Congo and then would spend the rest of the day trying to recreate the Disney experience in my backyard with toys, complete with the semi-jerky movements of the animals.

 

Later in life I had the opportunity to take someone to Disney for their first time, which reignited some of that childlike wonder in me as I got to point out all sorts of things that I loved to someone who wasn't jaded as most adults who had been there as many times as I had. Early in the morning we were near the Jungle Cruise and there were a few cast members blocking the entrance. They smiled and asked us how our day was going, I faked a scowl and said, "Y'all need to wake the animals up so we can go on the cruise!" They chuckled and agreed, but suggested we go get a Dole Whip while we waited. (Touche Disney) It wasn't until we were half way through the ride that my Disney virgin realized that the crack about waking up the animals was a joke.

 

Lesson Learned:

Never lose sight of what makes your inner child smile.