When my mother first mentioned that she was putting together a repeat of our February 1997 trip with my brother Tom's family to Orlando, I decided it would most likely be worth doing, so I dealt myself in. Though I had decided two years back that this destination is not very exciting for a single man, who must spent his time wandering among so very many families with children, there was that great common denominator of every such resort locale in the winter--the sun, which has a way of shining we never see up here in the Middle Atlantic states.
Thus it was that I parked my vehicle at the off-airport parking I pass daily on my way to work in Crystal City; Arlington, VA, and made my way to the new-and-improved US Airways terminal at Washington National. There were a great many kids on the 737-300, and I was fortunate to be able to swap my gate-assigned center seat for a bulkhead window, in the interests of re-uniting a family that had been given similarly arbitrary seating. I looked out, ahead of the starboard wing, the entire 1 hr 55 min as we passed over much agricultural land and then the lowland coastal stretch of SC, GA and northern FL. When I arrived, I was carrying only my single carry-on bag, which I test religiously in those under seat-sized boxes at the gate for size. Thus, I had no concerns over baggage claim during the hours between 4:00 PM and 7:30 PM that I lounged about Gate 46, awaiting the arrival of the rest of our party on a Spirit Airlines flight from Detroit. Fortunately, there was a full-service snack bar on hand, which supplied me with nachos and Coca-Cola to tide me over.
I stood at the interception point when the other plane finally pulled in and disgorged its load. It felt odd, since I don't usually meet flights; I tend to be met. Ma, Dad, Tom, sister-in-law Cheryl, Sam (all of 7) and Georgia (4 years old) emerged in various groups from wherever they were sitting, and we went to get their more numerous bags down below. We then proceeded to our rental minivan, a 1999 Plymouth Voyager from National. I did not know one could drive a rental right out of an airport parking lot like that. Most convenient. The path to I-4 South, Hwy 192 and the great Kissimmee Strip was familiar to me from when I rode there in a taxi van to the Holiday Inn Maingate just west of The Gate in 1997. We found a suitable dinner at Boston Market after we got off I-4 at our exit. I had never eaten their kind of food before--I thought all you could get was chicken. Finally, at about 10:00 PM, the responsible parties signed in for the 2 rooms at Quality Suites Maingate East. I had insisted from the get-go that I book my own single bedroom suite, which was all right since I'm paying my own bills now, but the other 2 family units managed to do in one large suite with 2 bedrooms and 2 baths on the other side of the open-air pool atrium. With full kitchen facilities, these rooms had obviously seen legions of families who needed such convenience. It was sure different than stays like my ones in Las Vegas, and a whole lot cheaper per day for just one man.
21 February 1999 -- Magic Kingdom, another time
I had a telephone call in my room at 9:30 AM from the others, wondering
when I'd be ready to go on the first full day's outing. It was extremely
unusual for me to sleep that late--I typically get up by 4:30 or 5:00 each
morning to beat Washington area traffic into work. I must have been
tired out by all the preparations the day before. I made myself ready
and headed down to the van, remembering to set my alarm to be up by 6:00
AM every day thenceforth. I quickly obtained a few Krispy Kreme Doughnuts,
milk, juice, and coffee from the continental breakfast table down in the
poolside area. It was colder than one expects Florida to be, so I
donned my heavy field jacket (see photo below, in my full field dress,
at Fantasyland).
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Day 2 of our 8 days turned out to involve a visit to the original Magic
Kingdom, which has always been my favorite Walt Disney World attraction.
The park has sure built itself up since our family first visited when I
was 14 in 1976. We arrived at 11:30 AM, parking in lot Goofy, and
took the sequence of tram and Monorail towards the entrance proper.
It was too cold to ride the boat across the lagoon this time. I had
better patience than I had imagined in walking through all those crowds
and waiting in all those lines to see pretty much the same old things.
I had more fun watching the kids' reactions, I think. Sam seemed
to like the Haunted House best, even with its unsettling and frequent references
to death. Georgia seemed to spend a good bit of time shopping with
her elders' money, a habit she obviously inherits from her Grandma Bayerl.
I took careful note of the Pirates of the Carribean ride, in which wives
were still being sold at auction. If only it were that simple...
It was good to have the others dragging me along, I reasoned, for I would
not put up with such inconvenience alone. I only withstood Disneyland
for 4 hours during my trip to Southern California
in Feb 1996.
After watching the fireworks at 7:00 PM and joining the mass exit at the Monorail station, where I hypothesized with my father and brother Tom about how they trimmed those vast expanses of shrubbery (a cherry-picker, maybe?), we went for dinner at Pizza Hut on Hwy 192. I am convinced those theme parks close earlier in the evening to make business for the other night-time family attractions and eateries. I ended up getting a good supply of leftover pie to store in my hotel refrigerator, the makings of later microwaved dinners. I was looking forward to the warmer days in the forecast later in the week, since it becomes cold even on warmer nights all at once there when the sun sets. |
22 February 1999 -- Out to see some Animals
I was up at 6:00 AM, so the same rush preparations were not needed to get out the door to report to the other suite to find out what was going on for the day. It turned out we were going to that latest of Disney creations, Animal Kingdom. I see now the plan of Eisener and company: keep folks on Disney property as long as possible, as by selling those multi-day Park Hopper passes. I don't think I once entered two different parks on the same day on this trip, since it is enough to get through just one. Before we headed out, I paid a visit to the enormous "Gift Shop" in front of the hotel, a place Georgia called "the pink store", because of its characteristically-Floridian pink and teal stucco design. Though I did not find any Kodak Royal Gold 400 film there (a product widely sold at Disney), I did secure a Mickey Mouse backpack to carry things about. I also realized I needed some way to pack out all the things I had been buying. Orlando, like Las Vegas, has a way of turning on your spending tap that appears to be the result of considerable planning over the years. Spend, spend, spend it became, with no fewer than three trips to the ATM at 7-Eleven (which only charged $1.00, versus $2.50 at the hotel).
It was cold again, though the sun was out as usual, during our time
among the displayed animals and far more prevalent retail outlets inside
Animal Kingdom. Sam began making it his assignment to remember our
lot name and row. "Peacock 2", he kept saying to himself, ready to
rattle it off later in the day. Though this park, with its various
geographic themes, admittedly had its share of zoological sights, I liked
to study the most prevalent animal there, homo sapiens. I
often quip that I am an "amateur anthropologist", in the style of Desmond
Morris's Manwatching: A Field Guide to Human Behavior.
This was obviously a business enterprise intended to separate people from
their money, in the finest of capitalist tradition, I concluded.
The kids didn't care, however--they appeared to be having fun. It
was a hard thing, to grow old.
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When time for lunch finally arrived, we got in the waiting list to be seated at the Rainforest Cafe (see group photo at left), which I understand is a favorite with Sam and Georgia. This is just outside the gate, so I needed a handstamp. I once peered tentatively into the entrance of one of these dark dining halls when I was with some friends to see Beavis and Butt-Head Do America at Tyson's Corner Center back home. I still can't quite figure the draw--it's ordinary old restaurant chow, with dressed up names, and a lot of vines, noises, and neon. It has been awhile since I was a kid. We had a chance for more shopping, naturally, in their store, where I acquired a Slippery Sea Slider and a warthog suspended within a clear "hi-bounce ball". For lunch I ordered "Jamaica Me Crazy Pork Chops". Somehow, though, I doubt I was doing much to prevent deforestation and the greenhouse effect by eating such a meal. |
After chow, we ended up going on the African Safari ride, which appears to be patterned after the Jurassic Park concept owned up the street by Universal Studios. We waited in a long line, being lectured on wildlife poaching in other sovereign lands overseas by a video presentation on overhead screens. We finally saw the loading dock and boarded bus-sized SUV wagons that hauled us around the rough dirt track that enters the domain of the hippos, lions, giraffes, etc. Those drivers must get extensive training. We passed the tent camp of some "researchers" who were apparently consumed in various horticultural experiments using potted plants, then pretended to play a role in heading off one of those dreaded poaching parties, along with "cast members" on the ground who came out with mock assault rifles to assure us it was over. The kids must eat this stuff up, I'm sure. As we progressed onward, Cheryl found an abandoned double-seater stroller cart, so that Sam didn't have to walk the distance his uncle was over all that asphalt. Side by side with his kid sister, under the shade, they made their way to "Dinoland USA", proudly (and ironically) sponsored in large part by McDonald's Corporation. Our group got split up in the crowd headed in that direction; I was sure glad to know where they were going. I finally spotted the bunch outside the overgrown McDonald's Playland that was supposed to be a paleontological dig site. We left at closing, a rather early 6:00 PM, and I was released to my room by the others, to have some of that microwaved Pizza Hut pie.
23 February 1999 -- Another day of walking and standing
Today, according to my morning briefing, we were actually going somewhere besides Walt Disney World. It seems the plan was settled on Sea World, though we still had to procure tickets. I had bought my Disney pass online several months earlier. I soon realized that those too-low-to-be-true rates that were posted everywhere for tickets were typically contingent on hearing about timeshares. I ran from that desk, fast, to the full-price counter, when I realized the catch. Ma and Dad used to do those tours to save money, but they got tired of being put down for saying no. Just once, I'd like to go give those folks an all-out heckling. "What, on God's green planet, does a single man want with an Orlando timeshare?" would be my opening remark. We're talking strictly retirees and families, from my best of understandings. I was glad to have a family to borrow this time.
On our way up International Drive to the Sea World gate, Mom got us to stop for her at the immense outlet mall complex in that area. I have never seen anything like it, with the possible exception of our own Potomac Mills. She was about as hard to get out of there as the kids were at the McDonald's play facility the day before. It does look like those stores have bargains, though--I must check them out some day when (or if) I ever have time. It was a good bit warmer when we finally parked in the Dolly Dolphin section at Sea World, but we had our coats along for after dark, when the all-important sun leaves the scene. We turned out to be close enough to the entrance that, like kids living near a school with no bus service, we walked rather than riding a tram.
After the extravaganzas and hype of the Disney parks, I had the initial impression that Sea World was a struggling second-string park, especially when I signed up for a second day's admission for free, during their special promotion. It turned out, however, that this park and Animal Kingdom occupy two decidedly-different market niches. I noted their apparent alliance with Fuji Film; not a single yellow Kodak box could be found there. I was shooting a lot of rolls and was forced to try the stuff. Sea World was a rather peaceful place, and I saw many more young adults and teens without children in tow. We particularly noticed the closer encounters with real animals--it seemed the Disney animals were all kept off at a distance, or at least they weren't very social the day we came. I liked the tunnel that took folks right through the shark tank and their Wild Arctic attraction, supposedly a camp built inside the wrecked hull of a wooden ship trying to make the Northwest Passage long ago. They had an interesting mock-up of a camp, amid the wildlife exhibits, and I paid careful attention to the contents of their primitive kitchen with a Coleman stove and (of course) recycling bins. Though this display was also stressing conservation and endangered species, the spiel was not like the preaching we heard while waiting to see the manatees. Maybe they hope they're talking to people who also plan to rent fishing boats, with those awful propellers, while they're on vacation. That's what Tom was talking of doing, the Bassin' man that he is. That and golf. Well, we had kids with us.
The finale of this evening was a visit at dusk to the "Shamu Rocks America" show, inside an immense stadium arrangement that reminded me of going to a baseball game in one of the older, open-air parks. Besides the crew of animals, whale and human alike, that were in the show, the sound system and giant video screen were major components of the entertainment. All the sports arena tricks were in use, like turning the camera on the audience and playing "YMCA" by the Village People. I finally listened to those lyrics this time. I still have to wonder what it's like for the various creatures named Shamu down there, even if they do get their fill of fish and are not physically mistreated. These mammals are supposed to have bigger brains than ours. I walked out thinking about them, not the crowd for once, as we found our way back out to the gate. The kids had to have those strategically-vended chemically-luminescent necklace toys (I got one, too, since I wanted to see one up close) and flashlight-based sabre weapons. Another highly-successful marketing discovery, such novelties.
24 February 1999 -- To the Beach and beyond
With how beaten and tired my feet and lower legs had become after three solid days of walking through those parks, I was glad that the outing for today was to drive over to the Atlantic beachfront, in Cocoa Beach. Tom, Cheryl, and the kids went there in 1997 while us older ones toured Kennedy Space Center. As we loaded up the seven seats with seven people in the Voyager, I took the front navigator spot next to Tom, using a central Florida map I had bought at the Gift Shop that morning. That Hwy 192 strip has the most accessible retailing I have ever seen. One could walk to everything from Quality Suites, including Walgreen's, the 7-Eleven, and all manner of restaurant. We headed on up to the 528 Bee Line, which is rather like a 50-mile long causeway through some ominously-swampy low-lying areas east of the city. (Where is my Rainforest Cafe indoctrination...those were wetlands. Yes.)
After what was really a rather short drive on 528, we drove over the sound and the Intracoastal Waterway to the barrier island south of Cape Canaveral. I was imagining to myself the kinds of fences and antipersonnel obstacles NASA must have built to enclose their preserve. One could see the Vertical Assembly Building and the launch pads from Cocoa Beach, just south of the great cruise ship docks at Port Canaveral. I still can't figure out why there weren't more people on this beach. They are so close to Orlando, with people everywhere. We finally arrived at Lori Wilson park, which amazingly had no parking or entrance fees, and everyone went over the wooden crossover to the rough sand surface of the beach. This was a decidedly different experience than doing the Gulf Coast at Sunset Key in 1997. I knew to wear enough sunscreen (and to stay covered, which was possible in the cooler air), after the way I was burned that last time. I threw my field jacket onto the sand and stretched out for some time under the sun, with my boonie hat over my face. Georgia came by once as if she didn't quite know who was under there, and began pulling the hat. Ma says you're on her good side when she treats you thus. I give credit to all parents who have lived through the experience of preschoolers. After I was rested up, I wandered over to the boardwalk nature tour through a lush wooded area known as a "hammock", where the tops of the trees were evenly "wind-pruned". I wish I had carried in my camera. We do not have such plants in Northern Virginia.
When we returned that evening, after I had a brief chance to rest in my room, I was called on a walking trip to the permanent midway called "Old Town" about 1/2 mile east of the hotel on 192. This was a pleasure dome to rival Charles Foster Kane's Xanadu, at least for those who enjoy carnivals and the like. It reminded me a little of the string of roadside attractions I saw in Pigeon Forge, TN, on my trip to Gatlinburg in April 1998. The center portion is an old-style street that is a slight bit like the Disney Main Street, but closer and more inviting to the wanderer-by. All about were an assortment of thrill rides, including the "human flyer" towers shown in the picture at the top. One can be dropped from 300 feet on a pendulum, for $30.00. They warned people with "mental hesitation" to stay off, so I was not on this. I got somewhat sick just riding the Scrambler. Old, yes, I'm getting old. Mom wanted one of those made-up antique style sepia-tone portraits at the "Instant Ancestors" gallery. I waited with Tom and Cheryl at an open-air bar across the street until I got tired and walked back. I ordered a carry-out pizza on the way from the Venezia Restaurant, since my Pizza Hut leftovers were gone. This saved my day, for I was again growing weak.
25 February 1999 -- Hitting the trail, one last time
We were not off to as early a start today, so I had time to lounge about and go order steak and eggs at the hotel restaurant, rather than have more Krispy Kremes. I was comparing how much cheaper this meal was than its equivalent at the more "grown-up" resorts like Vegas. It was getting warm now, so the folks spent awhile at the pool before packing up for the day. I noted that mid-day is a good time to swim at the hotels, since all the kids tend to be at the theme parks. Evenings, on the other hand, are a zoo. I also walked over with Ma and Dad to the portrait studio in Old Town to get their final and framed pictures. They just included the two of them and the two kids in period attire; like people of the old West. I had a chance to photograph some of what I remembered from the night before, like the he-man hammer-swinging strength test and the "human slingshot" ride that looks like one step beyond ordinary bungee sports.
For this outing at Disney, we decided to park in the Create lot at EPCOT Center then split up. I am still baffled, by the way, as to the "Community Of Tomorrow" in those last three letters...who would actually live in such a place? I used up the third day of my four-day pass at the gate, and I agreed with Dad to meet Mom, Cheryl and the kids after their return from a second trip to the Magic Kingdom at 6:30 PM, at the steps of the Mexican Pyramid. I finally took the AT&T-sponsored ride inside the big globe, which I had thought was just an empty shell until now, along with Dad and Tom, who joined us at the last minute. Then it was over to the Innoventions hall, which to my great dismay did not have general purpose WWW kiosks as I had thought. I asked the man and walked away--this attraction is obviously for newer users, though it sure looked like a browser window. I then spent $3.00 in SEGA tokens to drive their advanced head-to-head racing game. I took home two tokens as souvenirs. Finally, with the sun moving high into the sky, we set off around the large lake and toured all the nationality displays, which I had not done in 1997. We stopped to eat at the German area, where a group of street musicians obviously entertained Dad, who grew up with such music as the grandson of an immigrant. I went with Tom to get some Haribo Gold Bears at the candy store, where the German native there began asking me about American quarters and their various special reverse sides, like the 1976 Bicentennial (remember that, folks?) or the new Delaware coin. "Look for George Washington", is about all I could say, because the US Mint places no denomination numbers on our coins.
Evening fell and we waited about at the area of the Mexican temple. We were there a bit longer than expected, and I finally went off to find an EPCOT lapel pin to add to my collection. These were my "decorations" for surviving the various parks, pinned to my Animal Kingdom polo shirt. After threading my way back out of the "futuristic" area by the front gate, I found all the folks there waiting for me. Dad was hankering to wait until 9:00 PM to see the light show on the water, but I insisted on holding to our original plan of leaving early, since it takes me a long time to get to sleep and I'm no "night person". I returned to my suite, to a dinner of the second half of that wonderful pizza I had located on my way out of Old Town.
26 February 1999 -- Around the hotel, preparing for return
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The others were planning to go to MGM-Disney Studios today, an attraction
I did not want to see after my visit there in 1997. I was spoiled
by my trip to Universal Studios, Hollywood, I'd think, and I simply can't
take more than 4 days of theme parks on a single trip. I have a pass
with an extra unused day on it, interest in Disney's pocket, I would think.
After making one last trip to the "pink store" to find a 2X oversized shirt
to wear while I washed the rest of my stuff in the coin laundry, I hung
around with the others at poolside until they left at 11:15 in the van.
Suddenly, I had the feeling of one of my solitary vacations. I spent some
time sunning myself at the largely-empty pool, remembering to hit myself
liberally with sunscreen, then got up and walked one last time to Old Town.
I specifically wanted to secure my own supply of Jelly Belly brand jelly
beans. Ma had brought some back from before and I started getting
a taste for them. I ended up going whole hog at the bulk candy store,
taking a gift box of the 40 Official Flavors and two huge bulk bags including
some of the new Sours. I then walked down the street and paid the
$5.00 to drive one of those go-karts I had seen the other night on the
track. I can understand the appeal of this motorsport, especially
to kids below driving age. Anyone tall enough to accompany a young
child is considered "an adult".
When the folks came back from the Studios, they took me out to Bennigan's, conveniently across the street, for my 37th birthday, 2 days early. The kids used the restaurant crayons to make me bar coasters with drawings on them. We had been to a different Bennigan's in 1997 on my 35th birthday, and I wanted to go again. It was decent eating, especially to one who has been living on a diet of theme park food. The staff brought me my birthday hot fudge sundae, which I passed around, since it was so much to eat. They wished me a happy "21st birthday" last time, so it was my "23rd" this time. The others headed out, finally, to see that EPCOT light show, while I wandered back to my room. I realized my old Reebok shoes had blown pneumatics, so I stopped at the sporting goods store next door and picked up some new Nike AirLiners, paying Mr. Jordan his due. I found myself "living off the land" like that towards the end of the trip when I needed something I didn't bring. I dream of the day of flying with empty hands, though, like in the American Express commercial. |
27 February 1999 -- Back to my other life
I was up and going at 5:00 AM this morning, since my departure was at 12:00 Noon for Washington and I did not wanted the rushed evacuation I have known on some trips. I bought copies of both USA Today and The Orlando Sentinel to find out what weather was like up there. I had cut myself off over those last 7 days, but more importantly, it didn't bother me that I was out of contact with the dreariness of late February in our area. I was glad to have the other suite to hang around in before their later checkout, when I had finally settled my account. I reasoned to myself that it would be too difficult to find a shipping store for all the extra junk I wanted to ship back (since I had no checked baggage), and that I would haul it back in person as carry-on in my Mickey Mouse backpack. They dropped me off in the van to await their later return flight to Detroit and I found the US Airways departure gate. This time, I got stuck in a center seat and really had to sit in it. Now that computers can sell aircraft completely full to the highest bidder, there is no elbow room like there used to be, and they won't hand out advance boarding passes for the window. Still, I was able to sleep, or achieve a state resembling it, during the return to Washington National. After noting all the steel-beam architecture in the new terminal one last time, I walked out to the shuttle bus area and rode to my vehicle. I came home to my cat Thomas, who'd been at the Kennel, and was glad to see everything in such good shape with me gone all that time. No need to worry, as the song goes, just be happy. Well, I tried.