Row after anxious row jostles in place, sandaled feet impatiently tapping in anticipation of 9 o'clock. Operations managers bark orders into heavy duty walkie-talkies as turnstile attendants sport steely stares, mentally fortifying themselves for the impending onslaught of barcode and perforation-laden tickets. And in the blink of an eye, the attendants spring to life, initiating a symphony of ticket swiping and friendly salutations unmatched outside Southern Florida.
This was the scene every morning for three grueling days this winter as my family and I participated in our own little theme park marathon featuring SeaWorld, Universal Studios and Disney World's Epcot. For hours on end, we stood amid masses of clenched-fist tourists instilled with a we've-driven-hundreds-of-miles-for-this-and-we're-going-to-see-every-damn-thing-there-is-to-see-so-get-the-hell-out-of-our-way mentality.
Our first day was spent at the family-friendly SeaWorld. Upon entering the park, we immediately passed the "Dine with Shamu" ticket office. Tourists with money to burn feast on the flesh of Shamu's seafood friends as he feeds on barrels of cold fish and sloshes 52-degree salt water out of his tank and onto their plates and laps.
The dinner session was sold out.
Considerable crowds produced heavy congestion throughout the park, and there were no vacant seats for 30 minutes before show times, but my family and I eventually saw everything the park had to offer. A reasonable variety of foods (i.e. crispy chicken salad and turkey wraps instead of archetypical theme park burgers and popcorn), pristine walkways lined with well-manicured gardens and softly-played seasonal music gave the park a calm and comfortable feel.
With free beer on-tap, the Budweiser Beer School at the Anheuser-Busch Hospitality Center drew my dad's attention in the early afternoon. This 40-minute lecture on the beer-making process is interspersed with beer samplings and shrewdly exits directly across from an over-priced souvenir store.
In the non-alcoholic portions of the park, SeaWorld has two basic types of attractions: shows and exhibits. Mildly informative and moderately entertaining shows run several times each day in stadiums housing killer whales, sea lions, otters and dolphins. Audiences watch animals and trainers perform tandem flips and recite trivia throughout the 20- to 30-minute shows.
The exhibits are less spectacular than the shows but are more in-depth, consisting of documentaries and informational plaques alongside tanks of endangered species such as manatees and tropical fish or exotic animals like penguins, sharks and artic wildlife. One open-air exhibit even lets patrons toss sardines to seals and thieving sea gulls.
"Clyde & Seamore take Pirate Island" was the best show of the day, an action-comedy performance teaming live actors with a pair of sea lions and sundry minor actors including a walrus and ferret. At night, a mediocre fireworks show accompanied by the Orlando Philharmonic Orchestra capped a thoroughly enjoyable day of clean fun.
On the second day, we parked our rental car in the E.T. (the Extra Terrestrial) section of the Universal Studios parking complex and joined the predominantly Caucasian crush of upper-middle class suburbanites streaming for the park entrance.
After passing by the quasi-iconic Universal Globe (it's not as impressive in-person), we strode into the park and proceeded to stand in line. Throughout the day, Universal displayed its unholy talent for deceiving unwitting patrons: at their entrances, rides are nine feet -- and 90 minutes -- away.
We encountered ride waits that ranged from 60 minutes for older rides to three hours (!) for the newest ride, "Shrek 4D," and even the worst rides rarely dropped below a 45-minute wait. Over the course of the day, my family and I determined that Universal Studios has the most illusory line contortions of any theme park, ever.
Universal's malevolent crowd manipulation impelled many jaded and especially affluent patrons to purchase "Express Passes," also known as "We've-Driven-Hundreds-of-Miles-for-This-and-We're-Going-to-See-Every-Damn-Thing-There-is-to-See-So-We'll-Sell-Our-Souls-to-Cut-in-Front-of-You Passes." These devilish magnetic cards enable the holder to circumvent the Bourgeois line and wait no more than 15 minutes for any given ride, no matter how crowded, thereby creating a very profound class system among park patrons. There are the Haves (Express Pass Pricks) and the Have-nots (us).
On the whole, Universal's rides and shows were not worth the wait, though the "Terminator 2" 3-D movie/live-action show was a rush, and the "Men in Black" interactive ride was sporadically exhilarating. The Blues Brothers cover band and the late-night firework show were definite plusses and my mom delighted in the Macy's Day Parade re-enactment, but all of us were disappointed by the generally crass style of Universal Studios. Shows and rides pandered to the lowest common denominator, often constructed purely on gross-out and vulgar humor. And though seeing the actual catamaran used in "Waterworld" was personally life-affirming, Universal Studios is not a park that merits a second visit.
By day three, we were warmed up for the crown jewel of Disney World and one of the best theme parks in the world, Epcot.
Universal could take a hint from Disney's free "Fast Pass" system, whereby early-bird patrons nab a time-coded ticket for insanely popular rides and attractions. This Fast Pass, retrieved in the early morning, ensures the holder a place in a special, far faster line later in the day.
In the late morning, my parents split off to peruse the World Showcase portion of Epcot, while my brother and I hit up the Innoventions area. Presentations featuring voice-recognition software, top-of-the-line surround-sound systems and robots like Sony's Aibo dog thrilled both my brother and me.
In the Future World exhibit, an entire home is outfitted with amenities of the immediate and near future. Highlights include a wheelchair that can climb stairs and a house-controlling computer named, of all things, HAL.
At noon, Epcot closed its gates after reaching park capacity at an inconceivable 60,000.
That's like multiplying every University student, grad and undergrad, by three.
Needless to say, lines for rides, restrooms and refreshments were as long as Newcomb at noon.
In the early evening, my family recombined to ride Test Track and Mission Space. Test Track, a faux prototype car coaster of sorts, was occasionally thrilling, but short-lived and lackluster on the whole. Mission Space, on the other hand, was a thoroughly conceived and developed attraction.
At a reported development and construction cost of $100 million (that's a one with eight zeroes after it) the ride simulates a space shuttle launch from Earth, to and around the moon and a tumultuous Martian landing. Simply put, Mission Space is quite possibly the best ride in America.
The first volleys of the panchromatic firework display at the end of the evening momentarily brought all of Epcot to a standstill before a war zone erupted, complete with wailing toddlers and combatant tourists battling for prime viewing spots.
As my family and I watched colorful explosions, the brilliant display affirmed Epcot's number one spot in our hearts.
Following the fireworks, hordes of humanity began heading for the exits and we found ourselves in the same situation as the past three mornings -- in line, jostling for position between fierce competitors, now with a we've-driven-hundreds-of-miles-for-this-and-now-we're-driving-hundreds-of-miles-back-so-get-the-hell-out-of-our-way attitude.
Read More
Students brave the cold for a whirlwind sorority rush
By Mia Tan | YesterdayStudents recount a mix of emotions from rush, with some disappointed after dropping from the recruitment process and others ecstatic to join Greek life.
Top 10 ways to avoid burnout this semester
By Sam Saks | 2 days agoAs you settle into this semester, try implementing these 10 tactics to take care of yourself and wave goodbye to burnout.
Top 10 things I learned the day TikTok went dark
By Elizabeth Parsons | 4 days agoI am poised to bestow newfound pieces of wisdom from my short-lived TikTok detox.
