One of the things about Walt Disney World that I find appealing is the attention to detail that permeates every aspect of the theme parks. I mentioned once before that in the 1980s, I needed to take an injection at Epcot Center, and instead of using a rest room, I decided to walk into the first aid facility to see what they had to offer.

What I found was a much more smoothly-run operation than most emergency rooms and walk-in clinics, with fewer associated headaches than visiting my own endocrinologist (there was no paperwork, and no waiting.) I was shown to a private exam room where an attendant told me to take as long as I needed, and then to leave all of my disposables out in plain sight on a counter before leaving.

The attendant saw to the task of disposing of my syringe properly, and I imagine this policy helps avert an errant sharp from popping up in one of the hundreds of (exceptionally clean) trash receptacles throughout the public areas of the park. It’s all in the details.

On our visit last week, NancyTW and I were at Jiko, another fine Disney restaurant, in the lodge at Animal Kingdom. The menu features selections of African dishes including seafood, poultry, and beef. A woman seated near us advised the waitress of her dietary restrictions that ruled out eggs, dairy, and wheat. The server left and returned a moment later with an executive chef. He listened to the woman’s concerns and addressed them with polite suggestions that were suitable to her needs. No fuss, no muss. Again, it’s all in the details.

If you’ve been to Disney Hollywood Studios, then you’re already familiar with a soothing little time-filler called (cubical dwellers put your sound down before clicking) Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster. For those who’ve never launched from an aircraft carrier, Disney provides the next best thing for your looping and spiraling pleasure. 

This ain't no yoga session.

The premise is that you and your friends are in the studio with one of America’s premier rock bands, Aerosmith, and the band decides to give you a lift to their concert across town.

If you came to the park with a speed Jones, count on leaving without one. No amount of Final Net is going to keep you from looking like this guy by the time the ride is finished with you. You sit at a dead stop in your wing-fendered stretch limo soaking up an endless varietal loop of cranked hits from the band. For my first ride, it was Back In The Saddle, a number from my high school years that took what’s left of my mind off of my lifelong distrust of coasters. Oh, yeah, be sure to have your skull pressed back snugly against the headrest, unless of course you find pleasure in whiplash. Gum chewer? Clench now or choke on your Orbit. Those are your options.

The countdown, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, visions of Big Daddy Don Garlits flash before your eyes, and you’re into your first loop a lot sooner than even these guys.

Ten seconds in, you understand that Disney misnamed their Aerosmith Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster because there isn’t a single thing about the ride that has anything at all to do with “coasting.” Your terror ride through Los Angeles in the simulated dark of night is lit up by street signs and such, glowing in the headlights of the rocket limo. Inertia continuously presses you down into the seat, squeezes you sideways in both directions, and lifts you upward into the massive padded restraint on your shoulders. You never have time to focus on signposts before they are by you, but when it’s over and you arrive at the backstage entrance “VIP” concert parking, one thing is certain: you absolutely have to get back on for another ride.

But be forewarned, GDAT!! readers: have lunch after, not before, jumping aboard the Aerosmith Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster. 

And put a hat on your Troll doll head when you're done.