The unspeakably happiest place on earth

Part of the joy of traveling is the chance to be introspective. A new environment and atmosphere is conducive to a better understanding of yourself. It's also awesome to bail on work for two weeks.

We recently returned from Walt Disney World. 2 weeks in Florida, and then the 50 degree centigrade change to the temperature at home. During the visit I had the chance to learn a few things about myself.

I have always liked the most thrilling, gut-wrenching, vomit-encouraging rides at parks. I used to think it was the feeling of disconnect between the motion of my skeletal structure and my internal organs. Now I know differently.

It was on Expedition Everest that I found myself laughing, giggling and enjoying the moment. It wasn't the giddy spinning in the dark or the unnatural plunges towards the earth.

It was people screaming.

I'm sorry to say that the cries of utter terror from complete strangers evoke a happiness in me that I'm not entirely comfortable with. I actually revert to maniacal laughter, complete with the "BWU" in front of my "HA HA HAAA's".

In case I needed further evidence of my unspeakable joy, I have but one regret from my two week visit in the happiest place on earth. I was able to ride the "Dinosaur" ride which consists of a rather gentle boat ride in dim lighting. Then with much roaring and flashing of light a giant carnivorous dinosaur lunges at your vehicle.

Oh, did I say that half the attendees of the ride were under the age of ten.

So I had my near-eight year old on the ride with me. And like most thrill rides a picture is taken at the opportune moment of greatest excitement. And my regret is not keeping the picture from our vehicle.

What was unique was that each person had a look of mortal peril. Half of the adults and children had eyes and mouths open, frozen in film to commemorate their shared pant wetting. The other half had resigned their dignity by squeezing their eyes shut and cowering so to not enjoy any of the non-going-to-eat-you-painfully parts of the ride.

I will always wish I had a perpetual reminder of corporately celebrated panic, but I can at least still hear those screams when I close my eyes at night. Am I alone in this?

I don't think I will be asked to promote Walt Disney World any time soon.