Out of Step

I went early this morning to Cincinnati to catch my Delta flight to Orlando.  This my more serious trip to Disney  World.  Tomorrow, my class on Disney leadership through storytelling will begin.

As I sat at the gate and looked over the passengers, I noticed it was a very young crowd.  How young?  When they announced pre-boarding for those with infants or young children, almost two-thirds of those waiting got in line.

For me this is the last trip of a long summer.  I am glad to be here, but flying has slipped into a mind-numbing routine at this point.  Most of my travel has been on weekdays so far and those who have surrounded me have the zombie-like expression that can only be cultivated by those whose travel is frequent and required.

My Saturday morning traveling companions were cut from a different cloth.  I was really out of place traveling alone and with a purpose other than fun on my mind.

I knew it was different when a throaty cheer went up when the plane left the ground.  Not something you hear as the red eye from San Francisco goes wheels up!

There were a lot more cries during the flight (not only from the children, but also from the exasperated parents).  The plane was abuzz with the sounds of video games and movies.  It was like a kid's birthday party at 30,000 feet.

Then finally we approached Orlando.  An excited murmur swept the cabin as parents told their children what was outside of the window.  As we were on our approach to the airport, but still quite a way away and high in the air, a child's voice called out loud enough for everyone to hear, "Daddy, I see our hotel!"

I was reminded of the time when my kids were small and the magic that Disney promised was a reality in the wonder in their eyes.  They are bigger now, more world-wise and the teen age years are not so slowly draining the whimsy from their lives.  I even remembered  back just a little to my own childhood.

For a moment or two on that plane, I was transported back to that unfiltered expectant joy that only the young and innocent can attain.  I savored that lost time and mourned its necessary passing.  Because just for a moment I remembered when I could see the hotel from the plane even though I'd never been there and had only my imagination to paint its existence for me.  "Daddy, I see our hotel!"  I smiled a conspiratorial smile.