End of a Mickey Era

March 13th, 2011 Comments Off on End of a Mickey Era

I know that the Grad Nite of my youth is nothing like the Grad Nite of today (although I will give you that “now is the time! Now is the time! Now is the best time of your life!”), but I still can’t help but feel sad that this rite of passage will no longer be. Disney World has announced it’s canceling Grad Nite after this year.

What’s Grad Nite? Only the coolest night of senior year of high school. When the seniors showed up at Beach High at 5 p.m. to load a bus and drive the four hours to Orlando (okay, Lake Buena Vista, but we’re splitting hairs here). The park is closed from 11 p.m. till 5 a.m…. except for high school seniors. Thousands upon thousands of high school seniors. Taking total control of the park. It was mayhem. It was madness. It was magical. It was Mickey.

Busses drove seniors up from as far south as the Keys, busses came down from Georgia and Alabama. For one night, the seniors ruled the Magic Kingdom. We all got frisked going in, to make sure we were drug, alcohol, and weapon free, not that it stopped that certain herbal smell in It’s a Small World. (And when you think of how far those drugs had traveled, it kind of proved the point of the ride, didn’t it? So all it all, it was not just fun, but educational.)

Bands played; my year had Animotion (“You’re my obsession. My obsession. Who do you want me to be, to make you be with me?”), Ready For The World, Rene & Angela, Nu Shooz, Starpoint, Klymaxx, Miami Sound Machine, Sly Fox. No, I didn’t remember that. But there are lists out there to look these kinds of things up. The bands and dance floors were placed strategically around the park.

The tickets were about $35—I think about $18 to get into Disney World and another $15 or $20 for the school bus ride up there. We were required to dress up. And I mean dress up. Sundresses without a jacket were not allowed. Casual skirts were not allowed. We could wear party dresses or dressy pants suits. And shoes. Real shoes. No sneakers. No sandals unless they were dressy. The boys were required to wear ties (although they could choose regular or bow). Have you ever tried to ride Space Mountain in a dress? I have. It’s not easy.

I’d say that night was full of memories for me, but the truth is, I barely remember it. Hey, it was senior year of high school. I hung out with a boy named Tiger (whatever happened to Tiger?) and I remember having my picture taken multiple times, but for the life of me I don’t know where those pictures are. Probably with my high school journals. Which I still can’t find. My father did recently give me my college diploma, which he had been storing, only twenty-two years after the fact, so that gives me hope that things of mine are still rattling around my parents place. Am I getting distracted here? Promise there’s no herbal smell in the house. That scent is pure rank hockey clothing and a bit of spilled red wine. The point is, while I may not have specific memories of that night, I do have generic memories of fabulous night. In other words, Grad Nite was a lot like the rest of my childhood. One fuzzy memory filled with lots of emotion.

But now Disney is shutting the proverbial doors in order to keep their nonproverbial doors open—spring is too busy of a time to take the financial hit of Grad Nite. Mickey is worried about his bottom line. And the best high school tradition ever comes to an end.

“Forever hold your banner high.” Or at least, hold your banner high till the real paying guests come.

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