And your lake for a Lock Ness Monster
One of the reasons I always loved going to Disneyland was that there was abundance there.
Disney didn’t scrimp. He wanted his park to be top-notch, and "The Happiest Place on Earth."
The Disney folks ask for a hefty sum to enter their park. Once there, people spend. They buy toys, souvenirs, food, drinks, snacks, more food, more snacks, balloons—oh, once my daughter and I had such fun with a Disney balloon. We were on a road trip and realized we were one hundred miles from Disneyland, and since that is my daughter’s favorite place on the planet, we had to visit.
While there, we missed my other daughter and her son. We had the bright idea of sending a message by balloon, so we bought a helium-filled balloon, and a marking pen and wrote love notes on it. We let my daughter’s little two-month-old son, release it into the air, and we watched as it sailed into the immense blue sky, and from our vantage point shrink in size until it was completely out of sight.
We took a movie of it for that was all—so far—that my other daughter and grandson ever saw of it.
One doesn’t place a price on experiences such as that.
I intended with Come on Baby Light My Fire that people would complete it saying, 'Wow, that was a fun ride."