Disneyland Reflections: The Magic Kingdom That Lost Its Sparkle

I originally wrote this in March 2018, but haven't had anywhere to post it until now....

You know, I've always been that guy who would argue passionately that Disneyland was better than Magic Kingdom in Florida. "It's Walt's original park," I'd tell my wife. "The one he actually walked through, the one he built with his own vision." I was so certain of this truth until our trip in March 2018 changed everything.

After spending an incredible 11 weeks immersed in the world of Walt Disney World yes, 11 weeks of exploring every nook and cranny of their theme parks, water parks, and Disney Springs, we made our pilgrimage to California's Disneyland on our way to Aulani. And I have to admit, something inside me broke a little.

I found myself sitting on a bench on Main Street, watching families rush by, wondering what happened to the magic I remembered. Was it always like this? Or had something fundamental changed?

The closed attractions didn't help. Neither did the absence of parades and nighttime shows that typically bring that special Disney enchantment. I remember staring at the construction walls in California Adventure, thinking about how different this felt from our time in Florida. Though I did catch what seemed to be an impromptu fireworks display one night, no music, no narration, just silent explosions in the sky that left me wondering if it was even official.

My wife and I started having these quiet conversations while waiting in lines. "Remember how in Disney World, the cast members would...?" or "You know what I miss from Florida...?" Before long, we realized we were building a case for Walt Disney World without even meaning to.

The cast members here just seemed... tired. I watched them interact with guests, and the magic wasn't there. No special greetings for the little princesses or birthday celebrants. No extra sparkle in their eyes. I remember asking about a piece of merchandise and feeling like I was inconveniencing someone at the DMV rather than talking to a Disney cast member.

Even the guests felt different. There was an edge, an impatience I hadn't noticed before. I found myself watching the annual passholders, you can spot them a mile away (I used to be one of them when I lived in LA) and realizing how routine this all was for them. Just another Tuesday at Disneyland. The wonder had been replaced by entitlement.

Food has always been my thing. I live for good meals and the experiences around them. I'd previously sworn that Disneyland's food was superior, but after our recent Florida adventures, I couldn't maintain that position anymore. I remember biting into something at the Blue Bayou and thinking, "I could get better than this at a a value resort in Walt Disney World." Even the Terrace food felt like it had been stripped of any imagination.

The Food and Wine Festival was particularly disappointing. We walked through, expecting the vibrant atmosphere we'd experienced at Epcot's festivals, only to find lonely booths with few takers except for the craft beer stands, which were inexplicably packed. I watched a cast member at one food booth check her phone out of boredom, with not a single guest in sight.

And Blue Bayou... oh, Blue Bayou. I'd read it was the crown jewel of Disneyland in-park dining. We splurged on the Fantasmic dining package, excited for a special experience. Instead, I found myself staring at cold shrimp, an underwhelming surf and turf, and a potato so peppery it was inedible. My wife kept giving me these looks across the table as she picked at her steak, the kind of looks that say "we made a terrible mistake." The kids barely touched their food.

The service felt like an afterthought. Our server practically threw menus at us, and when I tried to help take a plate, just being polite, you know? she snatched it back like I was stealing something precious. I kept thinking, "This is the number one restaurant in Disneyland?"

Then there was the awkwardness of being handed seat cushions for a 7:45 PM show... at lunchtime. I remember standing there, plastic bag of cushions in hand, wondering how I was supposed to enjoy rides while playing cushion-guardian all day. When I asked if they could hold them at the restaurant, the suggestion was to rent a locker. Another expense on top of the package we'd already paid for.

The FastPass system felt like stepping back in time after using the Florida version. Paying extra for MaxPass just to book through the app instead of walking to kiosks seemed like poor value, especially for our family of four.

The coup de grace was when we finally did get to Fantasmic. Cushions in hand, and a cast member was clearly agitated at all the guests. I asked her how her day was going? she replied "you know all these annual pass holders really suck the joy out of Disneyland". My first thought was "you shouldn't be saying this to a guest", but my second thought was "you're right!".

As we prepared to leave on our final day, I found myself sitting on that same Main Street bench, watching the crowds and coming to terms with a realization: I had lost my argument. Walt Disney World had surpassed this original park in nearly every way except nostalgia.

Disney is supposed to be about the experience. Friendly cast members, immaculate surroundings, and that indefinable feeling that you're somewhere special. I left Disneyland wondering where the magic had gone, and whether it would ever find its way back.

But hey, at least the churros were good.

Disneyland's Castle