Is this ride worth an "E" ticket?

Every time Lucy offers to hold the football for a placekick, Charlie Brown is suspicious, but he invariably decides to trust her.
And every time, as he plants his left foot in anticipation of a perfect attempt, Lucy pulls the ball up over her shoulder and denies him the pleasure derived from sending the ball skyward.
Poor Charlie always ends up heels over head, sprawled in a disappointed and disillusioned heap on the turf.
Why does he subject himself to this repeated disappointment and indignity?
"Hope springs eternal," one might argue. Charlie Brown is a classic optimist, always hoping for the best and recognizing that it is possible that this time Lucy will poise her index finger atop the pigskin and allow him to experience that satisfying THUMP as the ball sails aloft in a classic trajectory.
"He'll never learn," another might counter. Only a fool repeats the same behavior again and again, each time expecting a different outcome.
Sales people love finding well-intentioned, good-natured, trusting people like Charlie Brown -- flim-flam artists love them most of all. They often refer to such folks as "suckers" and they celebrate P.T. Barnum's observation that there's another born every minute.
But it seems to me that "suckers" like Charlie Brown are often more generous and helpful than the more cautious types. They are quick to lend a hand; more interested, perhaps in doing than in deciding.
When I heard that Santa Rosa, California is the home of the Charles M. Schultz Museum and Research Center, my ears perked up (like Snoopy's?).
I suppose I identify a little with Charlie Brown -- I was shaped rather like him as a child (still am, unfortunately), and I was equally inept when it came to sports and romance.
But, as I noted earlier, Charlie is a bit of a sucker. And I was raised to not be taken in by the flim-flammers.
So, when I learned that admission to the museum was $8, I balked.
I was reminded of a visit to Disneyland back in 1968 with a now-former brother in law. We were discussing our itinerary when Lester looked up from his packet of ride coupons and asked, "Is that ride really worth an "E" ticket?"
Now, I knew from several previous visits to the Magic Kingdom that we would receive a ticket book with finite numbers of "A" through "E" tickets. The number of rides that corresponded with each ticket was greater than the number of tickets provided. So, choices had to be made.
It was permissible to use a higher-level ticket for lower-value rides, but not vice-versa. And Lester was noting that an "E" ticket was good for any ride in the park and should be considered the most rare and valuable ducat in the pack.
During the succeeding three or four decades, I've adapted variations of Les' question to situations like the Schultz Museum. Is, I wondered, admission to a museum dedicated to a comic strip really "worth" eight of my hard-earned dollars?
Now, I can afford the price of admission. Since I travel alone, my costs in such instances are literally a fraction of those facing others. A family of five, for example, must pony up not eight, but 31 bucks for a stroll through the facility. My decision is as much a matter of principle as of principal.
I delayed my final decision regarding the museum and strolled across the street to the gallery and gift shop which were located next to the ice arena (Schultz was a big hocky fan and built his own rink).
Looking at the price list as I passed by, I noted that the same family of five would be dinged another $56 if they decided to add a couple of hours of skating to their outing (paying $12 for the adults and teenager and $10 each for the two younger children).
After viewing dozens of items in the gallery and checking out hundreds more of rather pricey souvenirs (stuffed Snoopy dogs are clearly the big draw this year), I decided to check out the snack bar.
Well, the (you guessed it) Snoopyburger went for $7.50 and soda was another $2.50.
Suddenly, a family that may not have even known there was a Charles M. Schultz Museum and Research Center in Santa Rosa could find itself $137 lighter in the wallet -- more if they purchased memorabilia or fries with those burgers.
Now, I suspect that Charlie Brown wouldn't have balked at the cost, that he'd have gone into debt before disappointing Mrs. Brown and the little Brownie kids. And it's hard to argue with the assertion that "you only go around once and must grab opportunities as they present themselves...
But, an "E" ticket for the Charlie Brown museum?
Good Grief.