Now, 50 years after the park opened on July 17, 1955, Disneyland celebrates its golden anniversary with 18 months of festivities and additions, including new attractions, grand parades, innovative shows and state-of-the-art pyrotechnics.

"Disneyland is dedicated to the ideals and the dreams that have created America," the late Walt Disney said on opening day, "with the hope that it will be a source of joy and inspiration for all the world."

After an absence of two decades, it seemed a good time to return — and I had a blast.

The "magic" began immediately. Inside the turnstile entrance, Ken, a park photographer, asked a smiling Latino couple to stand in front of Mickey's portrait in flowers and hold their hands together in front of them. Later, they could visit Main Street Photo and see their picture — with the fairy Tinkerbell standing on their palms.

On opening day at these turnstiles, Disneyland staff designated then-7-year-old Michael Schwartner and his 5-year-old cousin, Christine Vess, as the "first guests" and gave them lifetime passes.

(Another first-day guest, 11-year-old George Lucas, later created the park's motion-simulator space ride, Star Tours. That was after he made a few movies with "Star Wars" in the title.)

When I spoke with Schwartner on the phone in April, he reminisced about meeting Walt Disney: "He asked if I could wiggle my ears. I squished up my face and tried. Then I asked him if he could, and he wiggled his ears for us."

Schwartner believes Disneyland is the best place of all to people-watch. I agree.

I walked under the train trestle and into the park where flowerbeds and hanging baskets of red tulips, white alyssum, and yellow and purple johnny-jump-ups boosted the turn-of-the-20th-century, small-town feeling of Main Street U.S.A. In front of a brick Victorian gift shop, a barbershop quartet of grocer, constable, and two natty gentleman in vests, spats, bowler and straw hat sang "Swinging on a Star," a Frank Sinatra tune about the importance of staying in school.

I wanted to see the window in Walt Disney's apartment above the fire department, where a light is left on as a tribute to him. A bigger tribute is "Disneyland: The First 50 Magical Years," an exhibit that gives visitors a behind-the-scenes look at the park.

The stream of little princesses led to the physical heart of Disneyland: Sleeping Beauty Castle, gussied up with banners and crowns and looking better than on opening day, when a gas leak forced its closure. Families line up in front of the drawbridge and moat for the daily princess parades and the anniversary procession, "Walt Disney's Parade of Dreams."

Gowned in swaths of richly colored royal banners, Sleeping Beauty's castle was unveiled on May 5. © 2005 Disney. All Rights Reserved.

Captains I adored are those on the Jungle Cruise. This trip always feeds my desire to explore the world. I set off for Adventureland.

The advantage of going on a school day is the lack of lines, and I practically walked straight onto the boat bound for the "Amazon, Congo and Irrawady rivers." What makes Disneyland work is its cleverness, and the Jungle Cruise, which has entertained visitors since opening day, might be the best. Real-people river guides with personalities (albeit scripted) offer silly puns and patter, such as pointing to an African chief holding shrunken heads and saying, "He's the biggest trader. He'll give you two of his heads for one of yours." I enjoyed it so much that I turned right around and went on it again.

A few feet down the road, I picked up a FastPass for the Indiana Jones Adventure. (FastPass allows you to trade your ticket for a pass marked with an hour-long block of time.) I returned to the special FastPass entrance during that hour and entered the "underground" tunnels.

Indiana Jones Adventure is a "storybook ride" for adults, but the vehicle's drastic bouncing, banging and twisting distracted me from the visuals, sound effects and story. Anyone with even a hint of back, neck or heart problems should stay far away.

The next morning I headed towards New Orleans Square, where the Bayou Brass Band and their high-energy jazz rattled Mardi Gras beads draped on wrought-iron balconies. Walt was a big fan of Dixieland jazz, and during the 1960s, Disneyland was one of the few local venues for jazz musicians.

In the Blue Bayou Restaurant, fireflies flash and circle before wispy clouds that float across the full moon low in a deep blue sky. Frogs croak, insects chirp, and beyond moss-laden cypress, silhouettes of johnboats glide silently through the dark bayou waters. Behind my wrought-iron chair, lanterns flicker near lavender wisteria twisting through white-lattice fences, and the aroma of jambalaya hangs in the cool air — nothing is what it seems, except for the jambalaya and me.

The Pirates of the Caribbean is here, and Chonet Adams, 26, and Glynn Humphreys, 33, from Adelaide, Australia, said it's their favorite attraction. They had ridden it five times.

My next stop lurked around the corner: the Haunted Mansion. Jose, the "undertaker," greeted me at the door with a somber nod. "I bet you're the only person in Disneyland who's not supposed to smile," I said. "I could smile if I wanted," he said, "but it's hard to smile when everyone around you is dead." One thing you can say about Disney "cast" members: they know how to play their roles.

Next stop: Tomorrowland, where a retro-future look replaces 1955-cutting-edge, pre-Sputnik, opening-day attractions like Rocket to the Moon. The new Buzz Lightyear Astro Blasters combines rider-operated, 360-degree-spinning Star Cruisers with football-shaped laser cannons for battling the "evil Emperor Zurg." By summer, gamers bitten by the Buzz bug will be able to team up with park players from home.

The refurbished indoor roller-coaster Space Mountain, another showpiece for the anniversary celebration, will reopen with new effects on July 15. Maybe Autopia is in Tomorrowland because it represents the future-of-driving dream for kids. Like the local freeways, the ride's always crowded. You have to reach a minimum height to drive, and Ricki Hadow, 52, who grew up near Los Angeles and now lives in Boulder, Colo., calls that step "a Southern California rite of passage."

While agreeing with those who abhor Disney's commercialism and hype, I love Disneyland. I can forgive Main Street, U.S.A., for being idealized. Disneyland is a stage, a play, a theater. We guests are part of the performance.

In Downtown Disney, I asked Blair Kessler, 36, from Calgary, Alberta, what he liked best about Disneyland. His reply: "The smiles on my children's faces."