Here’s my situation: I’m at Disney World for the 🎶 first time in forever 🎶. I’ve never been to any Disney park before, and Simona made it our family mission to visit Disney World for Spring break. We arrived Friday, and less than a day later, as usual my wife proved herself right: Disney World is magical. Don’t fear however, the stick up my butt remains steadfast, but now it’s a Mickey Mouse™ Disney World 50th Anniversary butt stick complete with twinkle lights.
I’m taking the time to write this from our hotel room in between sprints to every possible activity Simona planned for us, so I’ll keep it brief. I am in awe of this place. There is magic in it, and I’m beginning to see how: if the Devil is in the details, Disney is Lucifer on an 80s cocaine binge.
On our second day we went to Magic Kingdom. Our last ride of the day was Under the Sea. Unfortunately, our rattled knees had to suffer an hour of hemming and hawing before getting stuffed into a seashell to watch an abbreviated version of The Little Mermaid. Not every ride is a winner, and this one featured an automated Ariel so horrifying that I cheered for Ursula.
However, while waiting in line I caught sight of something truly magical. Along the winding path through an island grotto of toddling preteens, tucked away into a dark corner of the queue was a tiny blue crab. And not just any crab, a holographic animated crab that appeared to shimmy across a real pile of Ariel’s perverse human trash collection only to plop into an old boot. And disappear.
That’s when it hit me: that little blue crab only exists in this one line, in this one corner of this forgettable ride tucked away into Magic Kingdom. And a team of dedicated imagineers dedicated months of their lives so that I and thousands of others could catch sight of this magical distraction while suffering the indignity of Disney World’s queues.
Tiny details, exceptionally crafted, are magic. On the whole, Disney World is just another theme park, but sprinkle in a half-dozen of these moments throughout a guest’s visit and the entire experience elevates to incomparable. And I believe it’s these moments that make Disney something you can’t ignore and a property that has lasted through so many generations.
I am often so rushed in getting the work done, meeting the specifications, and moving on with life that I’ve never thought to add magic. Something tells me I’m not alone. Now obviously it’s unfair to compare myself to Disney, an unparalleled machine. But is there something I can do to make my customer’s experience truly delightful? Can I perform a ‘magic trick’ for my client?
I believe I can. Can you?