F2 SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 2020 S LATIMES.COM/TRAVEL
E FORE THE CORONAVIRUS pandemic and social dis-
tancing, parents were doing the usual: congregating on the
sidelines at sporting events and birthday parties, telling over-
repeated stories, reciting mundanities and receiving or giving
advice. ¶ Before I locked the doors of our New York home and
Clorox-wiped the keys to the outside world, most of my conver-
sations at these gatherings were about Disney World. ¶ At
sports practice, a mother told me, “You’ve gotta use my guy.”
For a premium, her guy would book my family’s Disney trip,
secure the FastPasses and arrange everything from character
breakfasts to transportation. ¶ At a birthday party, one father
said he had spent a thousand bucks each day on the trip. “Even
if you just stay at the hotel and do nothing,” he warned me, “it costs a grand.” ¶ My wife
wants to do Disney in style, like that sideline soccer mom, but even when times were less
dire I couldn’t justify spending half a year of daycare fees in a week at a theme park. ¶ I
suggested we put it off for a few years. ¶ “We can’t put off Disney World,” my wife said.
After all, our eldest daughter will soon be trading her princess obsession for preteen
cynicism. (My daughter now yells at me when I belt lines from “Let It Go”because I’m stealing her thunder. Soon
she’ll holler because I’m an embarrass-
ment to her social status, assuming we
practice social nearing again.)
Like many American families, Disney
is a part of our lives. We watch the films.
My daughters and I role-play princess
stories in the basement. I select roles
such as the Genie — but trapped in the
lamp, unable to be summoned — or the
Beast’s 18th hire, who, postcurse, hap-
pens to be a comfortable pillow, or the
elephant corpse that Simba and Nala
visit. I always position myself on the
couch, stage left.
Well before the pandemic, I began
researching our Disney family trip, which
came with as much unsolicited advice
from other parents as when my wife and I
were expecting our first child.
It was easy to write off guidance from
fathers who made Disney World a yearly
destination. And I dismissed mothers
who told me the character breakfast they
attended had “delicious food.”
But no matter whom I spoke to, Disney
World sounded like squandered savings,
forever lines, mass crowds, manufac-
tured magic and endless planning, but
my kids would love it. Still, in economic
terms, the cost of even a half-week trip to
Disney World was a month’s worth of
some other jettisoned yet epic adventure.
Then, unexpectedly, at a travel show, a
vendorapproached me with a timeshare
offer that sounded too good to be true. Itried to escape his lure, like a mermaid on
land trying to flop to safety. He said,
convincingly, “Come back. Come back.”
I listened to his spiel. If I signed up
now, I could receive a trip for four to Dis-
ney World, including four airline tickets,
four park passes and three nights in an
Orlando, Fla., hotel. I had to pay $50, but
that would be refunded if I attended a
90-minute timeshare presentation in
Pennsylvania’s Poconos with my spouse.
It sounded too good to be true. I walked
away again.
“I’ll throw in something else,” he blurt-
ed.
Besides the Orlando trip, he added
meal vouchers for a restaurant and ad-
venture passes for attractions in the
Poconos, as well as a mini-vacation to
another U.S. city. I floundered.
“What if I add four NHL or NBA tick-
ets?” He flashed me Islanders hockey
and Nets basketball tickets.
Worst-case scenario, I’d pay $50 for
hockey tickets with a face value three
times as much. Best-case scenario, I’d
take the family on an all-expenses-paid
Disney trip. I handed the sea witch my
credit card and, a few weeks later, drove
to the Poconos for the presentation.
Sitting in on a timeshare talk with
one’s spouse is not an enjoyable task,
considering precedent. In the six-plus
years before matrimony, we broke up
only once — right after a timeshare pre-
sentation. Back then, all it took to reel meinto some abstruse sales pitch was the
offer of free ski lift tickets and a hotel
room.
On that trip, the skiing was fine, for me
at least; my then newish girlfriend chose
to sit in the lodge. It was no glorious
Aspen lodge, mind you, where you can sip
hot toddies and enjoy slope-side pano-
ramas. This was a sweaty New England
lodge, where a guy named Todd ate hot
chili and got slope-side pancreatitis.
To make matters worse, we had to
spend the night at a chain motel, a brand
inferior to any dirty ski lodge. It also
happened to be New Year’s Eve, and my
girlfriend did not appreciate the room’s
broken door locks, its questionable mat-
tress and the condom wrapper left under
the bed by a previous guest.
So a decade and a half later, on our way
to this second timeshare crucible, when-
ever my wife said, “Is this presentation
really going to bring us to D_____?”
I always braced myself for that last word,
never certain if the D would be followed
by isneyor ivorce.
Luckily, we made it through the sales
pitch, although it was twice as long as the
promised 90 minutes. After receiving the
vouchers (and taking advantage of the
terrible meal and the awful ski-hill
tubing coupons), we drove home ex-
hausted.
As wiser, more dubious folks have
probably guessed, nothing about the
voucher was as promised. The fine print
made cashing in the Disney coupon
unfeasible. Three nights were really just
two full days. Travelers had to fly into
Orlando in late evening — killing day one
—and fly home at the crack of dawn on
what could’ve been day four.
Dozens of other caveats soured the
deal. For instance, you could begin a tripSMALL WORLD AFTER ALL
BY NOAH LEDERMAN