Margaret Mead Meets Esther Williams

Before I start in earnest with this posting let me first say that if any of you are asking, "Who are Margaret Mead and Esther Williams?" You deserve to be punished. More so if you don't know who Esther Williams was. I think I can forgive not knowing who Margaret Mead was. Though just barely.

Yesterday was a non-park day.

I know, you're sitting there wondering how we could be so close to the "magic" and not hurl ourselves at the nearest theme park. Well, we did go to a theme park of sorts, Typhoon Lagoon, a water park.

It must be odd to think of me in a water park, but from time to time I do like to get down and boogie or shall I say bobble with the people.

Now I don't like the beach. Actually I hate the beach and I don't care much for the ocean, seeing as it is so often located next to a beach. It's the sand I hate. Can't stand it. I blame my sister, for it is because of her that I hate the beach so much.

It all started when I was about three or four years old. We lived about four blocks from the ocean in Brighton Beach the next door neighbor to Coney Island in Brooklyn. My sister, who is twelve years older than I, took me to the beach one day. I frolicked in the sand and got sand in my bathing suit. My sister made me walk the four blocks home. The sand was really irritating me and rubbing me raw, but no matter how much I cried, or just plain sat down on the ground, she made me walk. It turned into a death march for me, hot and painful, the first of what was to become a long line of death marches in my life.

I've never forgiven my sister for it. Sometimes I call her up just to shout into the phone, "You spoiled ocean resorts for me forever!" And then slam down the receiver. As a matter of fact, I'll be happy to share her address with you, should you wish to send her hate mail.

Don't get me wrong, while I detest the beach, I love the water. I like nothing better than wide expanses of sand-free concrete and water. So, Typhoon Lagoon suits me entirely. Well, almost, because they do spoil the pristine concrete with patches of sand, but for the most part I can avoid those.

I feel like such a man of the people when I'm at Typhoon Lagoon, chatting with people while I wait in queue to go down a water slide. You meet interesting people from backgrounds that are very different to oneself. I also find that swim suits are a great leveler. Plus bobbing in a giant wave pool with scores of other people is almost quite literally swimming in a sea of humanity.

Another fact that I'll share with you is that I can't sit still for very long. I get easily bored. Other people may relax lying on a lounge chair in the sun, but I get very bored. So, sliding down water slides, and water coasters suits me completely. I like being wet, but I also like being active.

I remember once, back in the early 80's going for a session in one of those isolation tanks that was so fashionable back then. The younger of you may not know about them. They were large oversized water filled chambers, or waterlogged caskets if you will, filled with water that was turned into a super saturated solution of salt water, which increase buoyancy. The water was kept at a temperature of 98.6 so it was body temperature. You climbed in the chamber and the lid was shut so it was completely dark. So here you were, floating in a body temperature solution in the dark. It was called sensory depravation, and was supposed to be relaxing, because in theory is was like returning to the womb.

When I tried it, I didn't relax, I got bored. That is until, I discovered that because of the solution I could bounce easily around the little chamber, zipping up and down and back and forth. I found this bouncing around amusing and something to do to pass the time. Then while bouncing around I remembered that my mother had told me that I was particularly active while in the womb and never stopped moving and kicking. So there I was, I had really come full circle and returned to the womb, though without the messy bits.

Slap Therapy

I have come to the sad realization that I must share the planet with other people. This can be difficult to take sometimes but I bare the burden courageously. That is, until such times as I find people that make me wish I carried an uzi.

Today we went to the Magic Kingdom, and I was all ready for well, a magical day. I felt that I worked hard and god damn it, I deserved a magical day. And it was magical, up until Casey Junior's, the hot dog joint in the Magic Kingdom.

But let me first rewind until the beginning of the day. We were supposed to go to the Animal Kingdom, but having just been there a day or two before, I was in the mood for the Magic Kingdom, a park close to our resort.

We had a pretty good time too.

I got to see the new Hall of the Presidents with the new Audioanimitronic Obama. I was interested to see and hear the audience reaction, which to my surprise was quite polite. I don't know what I was expecting. A lunatic fringe to break out into a brawl. I sat there, on pins and needles wondering what would happen.

Though, as they did the roll call of the presidents, it occurred to me, that if folks really knew anything, they would be booing quite loudly at other presidents, such as Franklin Pierce, who was a rather fine and handsome man, but did have a legacy of alcoholism and the Nebraska Kansas Act which lead to "Bloody Kansas." Or then there was Rutherford B. Hayes, and the rigging of the electorial college which got him his office, when it should have gone to Blaine. It further surprised me that no boos were elicited by Warren G. Harding. I would have thought the audience would have gone crazy at the very mention of his name, what with his involvement in Teapot Dome, and the illegitimate daughter, Elizabeth Ann he fathered with his mistress, Nan Briton.

But no, they were silent and well behaved. As they were with Obama.

The truth is most American don't know their own country's history, not really. They know some packaged version of it. Some flag waving Disneyfied version of it. But not what is really American history.

I once overheard two guys on the commuter train talking about their kids education. One was complaining that his was being tested on really obscure parts of the Civil War, such has flunking a test question about some "nobody" named, Fredrick Douglas. My head nearly spun, but I held my tongue. The man's comment revealed more about his ignorance of our history and the social climate surrounding the Civil War than it did about the state of his child's education.

At any rate, I digress. Back to the robotic Obama. I must say I was disappointed by it. I don't really think that it looked like Obama. About the best I can say is that it looked like a black man in a suit. If I were Obama, I would be offended. I think they made him look fat.

So, back to my lament about not carrying an uzi in the Magic Kingdom.

We had a fairly good time, and then it came time for lunch. A traumatic event as usual because Hisselfness is vegetarian. We hoofed between Columbia Harbor House and Pecos Billl, where there was nothing for him to eat. But let me stop right there, forget that there was nothing appetizing for him to eat, there was nothing appetizing for me to eat. Our little troop then decided to go to Downtown Disney to eat at the Earl of Sandwich. And so the trek to the exit began.

Hisselfness was a little overheated by this point, and was starting to fall over (quite literally). We were near Casey Junior the hot dog place on the corner of Main Street U.S.A. and the hub (sad that I know these things), so I ran in to get him (and myself) a cold drink.

This is the part where the uzi comes in.

First let me enlighten you as to the vast menu they have chez Casey's. There are three things on the menu:

• Hot Dogs
• Chili Dogs
• Chicken Nuggets

They also have a side dish, french fries and a dessert, brownies.

I jumped in a queue that I thought was short, 2 women, who were together. I thought it would be quick. After all, there were so few choices to be made. I couldn't have been more wrong. Apparently, these two broads thought that by some great good fortune they had stumbled into a five star restaurant, where one must ponder and deliberate every single choice on the menu, make a selection and then change one's mind because one might have ordered in too great haste.

The purchase of 3 hot dogs, 3 orders of fries, and 3 soft drinks was taking over 15 minutes.

When asked to pay, even then they could not bare to do so and move away quickly. They were compelled to give the cashier exact change. This search for exact change extended to the entire family who were not in line. I mean exact change down to finding the pennies.

I was getting more and more frustrated. They simply were enthralled by standing there at the counter of Casey Junior.

I don't know, maybe I'm being a tad too harsh. Perhaps I should have been happy for them. Perhaps this was nirvana. Perhaps Casey Junior was for them, as close as it gets to heaven and they could not tear themselves away from their beatific vision.

Maybe my getting angry was the wrong thing to do. Perhaps I should have been an enabler, a champion of them in achieving ultimate bliss. Perhaps I should have encouraged them to stay longer. Perhaps I should have encouraged them to start licking the counter to demonstrate the level of their joy.

Maybe blowing their heads off with an uzi might have not been the right thing to do? After all, who am I to judge them.

I suppose I must realize that for some, spiritual soaring comes when standing in Notre Dame, gazing up at the rising gothic arches that draw our eyes and hearts upwards to heaven, and for some, their souls soar upwards when looking up at the menu in Casey Junior's.

Happy Anniverrsary

Seeing as we took our friends Jackie and Cheri on our honeymoon, we also took them to Disney World with us on this trip. It is just good common sense, one should never travel without an entourage. I also find it rather relaxing because there is someone who is willing to listen to Hisselfness prattle on, long after I have tuned out.

We met Jackie and Cheri when we did the Disney Cruise Line Panama Canal Repositioning cruise in 2008. What an amazing trip that was! Even more amazing and remarkable were the friends we made on that trip. These were friendships that have stood the test of time and have proven to be very real.

Last year, we had the fiasco with the marriage in Windsor, Canada. A disastrous event of which we never speak. When that went all sour, we decided to get married in California. Our cruiser friends who lived in California on hearing this, decided to throw us a wedding. Kelly and Nan organized the wedding. Kelly and her husband Jonathan were our witnesses. It was a wonderful event and we were extremely touched. I'm not sure we even knew how to show how touched we felt, because for 21 year we had been so insular and used to having our relationship be more of a battle, that to have so many people truly happy for us and supportive came as a bit of a shock.

So back to our anniversary dinner. Our first anniversary, which is odd, because in June we celebrated our 22 year anniversary.

Our wedding anniversary dinner was to be held at Boma, and our friend Monica who lives in Orlando was also to celebrate with us.

Dinner at Boma proved to be wonderful as always. For a change, I can't even find something snide to say about it. We have always had a good experience there.

The women surprised us with an anniversary cake with an edible wedding photo of us. Very nice. I have at last achieved something that I thought I never would. Something that only the great and really famous achieve. Having my face immortalized in buttercream.

I ask you, could life possibly get any better than that?

A Room with a View

We have stayed at the Villas at the Wilderness Lodge many times but with this trip we have been assigned the best room we've ever had. We have a 2-bedroom lock-off unit and a corner unit to boot. At last Disney Vacation Club is treating me with the respect I deserve.

At last, the first glimmer of potential happiness on this trip.

I wish I could stay as much for Winn-Dixie. I have never seen a supermarket that was so large with so little in it. I must have been twice the size of our local Jewel supermarket in Chicago and it had about half as much food in it. The last straw was when I couldn't find light Thomas's English muffins. I knew we had left civilization behind us in Chicago.

Still, on the bright side, we knew that we didn't have to live with Winn-Dixie and in the end, we got the job done.

Fear and Loathing in Disney World

In keeping with our general family tradition that vacation travel days must inflict as much hardship, inconvenience, suffering and pain as possible, I'm happy to report that our travel day down to Orlando was a resounding success.

The dog sitter slept in our bedroom. We slept in the living room on the queen-sized bladder, otherwise known as an inflatable bed. It was so comfy that I could not bear to waste one minute of enjoying it's wonders with sleep. I think at one point I might have failed at my all night vigil, but thankfully the alarm when off at 3:30 a.m. to summon me back to enjoying the bladder.

We were flying out of Midway rather than O'Hare. Midway is 45 miles away from us, as opposed to O'Hare which is only thirteen. Nothing unusual in our flying out of Midway. What was unusual was that I booked a shuttle to take us to the airport. Unusually we go via the El. I really do it for Hisselfness, who I think needs the exercise. What better way to get the blood pumping than schlepping 4 suitcases 2 blocks to the station, onto a train and then up and down stairs at Washington to change trains to Midway? No this time we took the sissy way out and had door-to-door service.

I wish I could say that the 2 1/2 hour wait at Midway for our flight to depart and the flight itself was interesting, it wasn't. Unless you count Hisselfness getting up and telling the little girl sitting behind him on the flight that unless she stopped karate kicking the seats he was going to start kicking her. There was no more kicking for the remainder of the flight. The woman sitting next to us enthusiastically thanked him. Frankly I think Hisselfness was a little out of line by threatening the girl. I would have threatened to kick her mother.

We were very happy to finally via Magical Express arrive at the Wilderness Lodge.

Now before I go on, let me first say, that I celebrate diversity, and Disney has for many, many been a leading corporate citizen in this respect. But, apparently it was Small World day at the front desk at the Wilderness Lodge. The desk was full with clerks, all from different nations of the world. We were lucky enough to get China.

Our clerk was very nice, but unfortunately I could not understand one work she was saying. This made for a very lengthy check in process as I stood there wondering why she was asking me what shirt size I wore, when in reality she was asking me if I had a car with me. Trying to find out whether or not our room was ready, and when we would find if our room was ready. This turned into a 10-minute because I could not understand why she wanted to "test me." I stood there thinking, now I know that folks can be quite academic in China, but I had no idea that there was a tradition of giving strangers a friendly pop-quiz. I couldn't imagine what the subject might be. I broke out in a cold sweat hoping it wasn't going to be algebra.

As it happens she was suggesting that they text me when the room was ready.

So far so good. All was simple and easy. But as we were to find out, that was merely a set-up to lull us into a sense of security, as soon, we were to begin "the death march."

This is the part of our travel day, where I can proudly look myself in the mirror and say, "You're an idiot."

We had to pick up our Dollar rental car from one of the hotels in Downtown Disney. I had originally planned to take a cab from the Wilderness Lodge. I didn't see any out in front of the resort. I could have asked the bell captain to call a taxi for us, but in thinking about having to wait for it to arrive, I decided that we should take a Disney bus.

At this juncture I should mention that I had a backpack strapped to my back with about 30+ pounds of electronic equipment, plus some of our valuables, and Hisselfness was carrying a two-tiered hatbox (don't ask).

Disney transportation was in good form this particular day. It took a bit over 30 minutes for the bus to arrive. We, who were wearing long jeans for our travelling day, stood in the heat and waited.

As we stood and waited, I became a teensy bit crabby. Hisselfness looked like he might to the teensiest bit of collapsing. The bus arrived but the journey proved to be even worse than the waiting. For some reason the music on the bus, some sort of "hip" Disney music, probably pushing their latest twinkie hits was not just loud, it was blaring. Happy music turned oppressive.

To make matters even worse (as if they could get any worse), the bus was not going to go directly to Downtown Disney. Oh no, in some cost cutting move it was going to stop at the Grand Floridian Resort. I'm not sure if this was a new Disney technique to punish guests for staying at the Wilderness Lodge and to not so subtly suggest that they move up the value chain to the Grand Floridian.

We finally arrived some 40 minutes later with very frazzled nerves at Downtown Disney. Our nerves frazzled from the blasting music and snail paced journey.

By this time Hisselfness was in a fragile state. I dragged him across the street to the hotel where we were to pick up the car. We found we were no where near the hotel lobby, and so, tramped off, 30 pound backpack on my back, Hisselfness with his cane and the hatbox, on a trek in full sizzling sun to find the lobby. Hisselfness, a bit overheated and wobbly even with the cane, fell over twice.

In what seemed like 92 hours later we found the lobby. I was directed to the car rental counter. In a burst of energy, I sprinted over to it, only find out that it was not the rental company I was expecting. At this point, I was overheated, a bit confused, and not more than a bit pissed off. I had miscalculated and we were in the wrong hotel.

I dragged Hisselfness out of the lobby and threw him into a taxi. We then took a cab to the hotel next door. It was worth every penny not having to schlepp out of the hotel, all the way down to the road, and all the way to the next property.

In the end, I finally got the car, only to begin the next leg of our journey, third world country bazaar known as Winn-DIxie, which apparently in Orlando is thought to be modern supermarket.

Welcome Foolish Mortals

So here we are, you and I.

I know why you're here. I'm fascinating and have an irresistible allure, but why am I here?

I thought I might try my hand at a blog. After all, people all over the world who are far less interesting than I are busy flapping their gums in cyberspace, so I thought I would throw my voice (or lips) into the fray.

I've decided to use my upcoming vacation as the catalyst to start blogging, and see how I like it. It's not a question of how you like it, you are merely the gentle reader and drawn here like a moth to a flame.

I on the other hand wonder whether the world is ready for my wisdoms and observations. Together, we shall see.

So let's get down to the nitty gritty of today. Not a whole lot is happening around Eastwood Manor. I'm working at home. Well not at this very moment. At this very moment I'm eating my lunch, and having a nice chat with you.

Tomorrow Hisselfness and I fly off to the happiest place on earth, Disney World.

I will begin this blog in true earnest tomorrow, when we are safely ensconced in the land of the mouse.

I could lie and say I'll blog in the morning and tell you all about the excitement of leaving, but let's be honest, I have to get up at 3:30 a.m. in order for both of us to get ready and be out of the house for a 5:00 a.m. shuttle to Midway. The last thing on my mind at 3:30 in the morning will be sharing the minutia of my life with you.

Crushing I know, but then life is full of disappointments. Add this one to the heap.

Well then, until tomorrow afternoon sometime.