Good Morning Gentle Readers,
Coming of age in Southern California when it was still The Land of Milk and Honey™ was something I wouldn't trade for anything. One of the great things about it was that Disneyland was uncrowded and just a mere eight miles from home, which was close enough to ride our 10-speeds. Later we rode mudercycles™ or drove cars.
General admission was a buck and any kid who mowed lawns, threw a newspaper route, or had a part-time job could afford the gate fees that entitled you to wander around the park gawking at pretty girls until it closed.
That dollar didn't get you on any rides but there were plenty of exhibits along with live music in Tomorrowland, New Orleans Square, and Coke Corner that cost nothing. On occasion we'd pop for a $4.50 ticket book, which included admission ($38.75 in 2022 US Monopoly Money) or bring along a few crumpled, unused tickets from home, which almost never included the coveted 50¢ E-Ticket. We'd also panhandle departing guests near the front gates. Families with young, cranky, worn-out little kids were a good bet to score a ticket book with some decent leftover tickets. That said, Bob Anderson's bedroom held the mother lode. I don't think any of us ever thought to ask why Bob had a dresser drawer stuffed with half-used Diz ticket books that he happily shared with us.
Photo Credit: Unknown
As Ever,