Disneyland trip cured him of ever wanting to return

Earlier this morning, while I was having my third cup of coffee, I read your column (“Please, God, don’t make me go back to Disneyland”) in today’s edition of the Kent Reporter (April 16.)

And, a while ago, I got to thinking of the last (in fact, the only) time that I ever visited Disneyland. And, that was a while ago too — more like 49 years ago (probably before you were even born). I was much younger, and had more hair in those days. Anyway, after that one trip, I was cured — of any desire to ever return.

As I recall, back in 1961, the day-pass entrance fee was something like 20 bucks. As a poor/working college student, I considered that cost to be terribly outrageous. And, after fighting the ever-increasing crowds at the park that day, I did manage to take a couple of the rides — which was enough to last a lifetime. Before we departed that afternoon, I stood in the middle of the make-believe town Main Street and swore (on my wife, kids and grandkids) that I’d never ever do that again (and, I wasn’t even married in those days). Fortunately, my three kids all live in three different corners of the world. And, as of this writing, none of my four grandkids have yet managed to twist my arm enough to take them to Disneyland. Which is fine with me.

During my travels around the country, I’ve looked at several of the other various theme parks. And, I’ve never been able to bring myself to go inside. Enough is enough. Also, my wardrobe doesn’t need a Mickey Mouse tie — or a Budweiser beenie.

No, my middle name isn’t Scrooge. Rather, it’s simply that on the list of fun things to do, theme parks are down there just above root canals and ingrown toenails. And, given a choice, I’d really rather stay home and talk to my cat — something much more productive and satisfying.

Cecil G. Stellyes

Kent