OK, folks, it's not strictly a trip report, but I had quite an eventful weekend...one which involved encountering proof of my newfound unclehood face-to-face, playing in the parks for a couple days, and meeting several of our folks from here on the boards. What follows is pretty much a blow-by-blow account, and, yes, it is loooooooooong. What can I say? Plenty, apparently. Enjoy.
Friday is normally my day to sleep in, but not today. I’m going home from school today, and since my beloved ’92 Shadow is feeling sick right now, I’m at the mercy of others for transportation. It’s not too bad as long as you can live your life within the radius of half a mile, but anything beyond that requires strategery. Today my mom is coming to pick me up, which means I have to work around her schedule; working around her schedule means I’m up at 8 to be ready to meet her at 9.
The ride home goes off without a hitch, and we make it home around 11. I’m now an hour and 40 minutes closer to the magic, but can’t go any further just yet.
I spend the day being as unproductive as possible; after some nice napping, I decide to look on the hard drive to find some pics of my four-day-old nephew, whom I have yet to meet. As his face is now adorning the desktop of her computer, I presume that mom has added some more images of the li’l slugger. I presume correctly; in fact, it turns out that there are approximately 2,762 baby pictures in the My Pictures folder, many of which seem to have been taken in rapid succession, so that the result is much like looking at one of those animation books where flipping the pages gives the illusion of movement. (“See, those three are completely different…there his leg is down on the blanket…and there he has it raised….and there his left eye is closed.”) I realize that pictures of the new arrival now outnumber pictures of me on my mom’s hard drive by about a 12 to 1 ratio, which is, I suppose, as it should be.
Around 7ish that night, the folks and I pool up for a visit to see the baby. I gather that this has become somewhat of a daily occurrence, much akin to shopping, work, and breathing. Having gone nearly 24 hours without seeing the baby, my mom is especially antsy. When we get there, there are more people in my sister’s house than are probably allowed by state fire regulations. There’s something about a new baby that tends to attract humans in a way that few things can, with the possible exception of free doughnuts. The poor little guy spends the night being passed from hand to hand every five minutes. In his face is a look that says “Just wait ‘til I learn how to projectile vomit…I’ll show the lot of ya!” In the midst of the fray, Alexander and I do get a little quality time. He looks up at me as if wondering how long this new arrangement will last. Before I can respond, my mom is clamoring to hold him again. I hand him over; it has been over five minutes, after all.
Around 9ish, we head home, after a quick trip to the store. The Orlando trip is still coming together, even at this late stage. My friend John and I are planning on making an early start and then staying with Mike, one of my old roomies from the CP, on Saturday night. Only problem is I’ve called Mike twice in two days to finalize plans and heard nothing. He rings me up about 10, tells me he’s gotten off work about 3 in the morning the past two nights, and says he’ll meet us anytime tomorrow. He’s letting us crash at his apartment Saturday night and then Maingating us into the parks on the second day. John and I decide to convene at my place around 5ish the next morning and head out.
I finally doze off about midnight…..my circadians aren’t used to 4 am wake up calls. The sacrifices I make in the name of hedonism….
4 am comes all too quickly, but I fight my way out of bed and am very much awake by the time John shows up at 5:05. I give him a little grief for being late and we hustle to the car. It is hovering around 32 with ice coating the windows of the cars outside. I realize that those of you around New York, Boston, and Chicago are drooling right now, wishing you could have a morning so warm, but this is the south, where we have very thin blood and make a big deal about the temperature falling below 32, when we can officially say “It’s freezing out.” The inside of John’s car makes me quickly forget the temperature outside, as he proceeds to leave the heater on until the paint on my T-shirt starts collecting in a little pool on the floorboard. I shed my jacket and start threatening to shed more, until we reach a compromise. He turns the heater down until it’s around a liveable 93 inside the car. Moderation is good.
After a quick pit stop, we are on the road around 5:15. Amazingly, I stay awake the entire way down. We hit Jacksonville around 6:30, Daytona around 7:45, and shortly before 9, we are taking the familiar exit which leads right to our old home in Vista Way.
We decide to stop for some grub at the Wendy’s right next to the complex, where the night managers and I were pretty much on a first-name basis during my Program; seeing the apartments again, just from the outside, is pretty surreal. I haven’t been here in over a year, but it seems like I just left. I decide to limit the Rod Serling-esque ruminations and go in to grab some breakfast. Ah, fried potato products and caffeinated beverages first thing in the morning, served by a young lady with a distinct Hispanic accent…I’m definitely home.
Shortly after 9, we head for the Magic Kingdom. I try calling Mike, but my cell isn’t getting the greatest reception, thus beginning a weekend-long struggle. I finally get him, but he’s going to be late; in the back of our minds, John and I had hoped he would offer to Maingate us both days, so we could save our Comps for another trip. It is not to be, and so we proceed to the MK parking lot.
It’s a good bit warmer than back home, but still a little cool by Florida standards. The ride over to the TTC on the tram makes me long for the inside of John’s car, where the mirrors are now permanently warped.
We arrive at MK a little after 9 and decide to head for Space Mountain. Afterwards, I call Mike again, and he says he’ll be there in 15 minutes. We decide to wait for him around the Tomorrowland entrance instead of doing another ride, forgetting that 15 minutes in Orlando time isn’t what it is in most parts of the world. John relieves the monotony by whipping out a drawing pad and sketching the castle; what type of person thinks at the beginning of the day “I’d better pack the sketchpad and a pencil in case I get bored” I have no idea, but I guess that’s the mind of an artist.
Around the same time, I call Anqelique, whom I have never spoken with outside of Instant Messenger. She answers with a distinctly sleepy, “why-are-you-calling-now?” tone, but I am relieved to know that she does, in fact, exist outside my computer. She says that she’s heading over to MK as soon as she blocks my phone number between the hours of midnight and noon, and will meet us when she gets there.
Mikey shuffles over toward where we are about half an hour later. Mike is from New Jersey, and after our College Program, went back for approximately 15 minutes before deciding it was too cold and returning to his job at Chef Mickey’s. I make the introductions and we continue our tour of Tomorrowland.
We decide to do Timekeeper first, which I have never seen, followed by the Carousel of Progress, which I haven’t seen since I was about 7. Both attractions were running “seasonally” throughout my Program, which apparently means as long as they open them for about 10 minutes every 3 months, they can get away with calling them Seasonal. Timekeeper is about to return to Seasonal operation the very next day, so I feel a particularly strong sense of destiny and fortuitousness to be here on this particular day. I mention this to John and Mikey, who proceed to walk about 20 feet away from me.
Noticing that it’s about time for Angel to show up, I look down at my cell and note that not only am I getting no reception, but my battery—which I charged just before leaving—is almost dead. The same phone which worked perfectly well all over freakin’ New England last summer has decided it doesn’t like Florida so much. Just before my battery starts making whiny, screechy noises, I check my voice mail and find a message from Angel. I resolve to call her back as we head into the PhilHarMagic theater. Just before we head into the auditorium, I hear Mikey say “protein spill.” Mike’s Puke-Dar has been distinctly honed over months at Chef Mickey’s. He can hear a kid tossing his cookies from nearly 300 feet away. I turn and see the familiar sight of a kid whose lunch has found a resting place on the floor in front of him. I smile to myself: It’s good to be back.
After PhilHarMagic, I call Angel back and we discover that we’re on opposite sides of Fantasyland, so I suggest we meet at the carousel. Once there, I see a girl who looks distinctly like the pics Angel has posted on the boards, so I conclude that it is either her or a really freaky doppelganger. I walk up to her grinning and pointing, and pray it’s not the latter of the two.
Angel has brought another friend from the boards with her: PhotoDave219. Photo Dave does a good job living up to his name, with a rather sizeable camera in hand and a tripod mounted on his back. I start wondering whether PhotoDave is his secret identity and if he has an alter ego like Clark Kent. Then I realize that the group is leaving me. I suspend all thoughts of photographically-related super powers and jog to catch up.
Dave suggests that we do the Jungle Cruise, so off to Adventureland we head. Once on board, we sit near the front of the boat. Our skipper says his name is Timon, and I check his nametag to confirm. I suppose Rafiki is on the next boat. Dave is wearing a Kilimanjaro Safaris hat, for which Timon gives him no end of grief. Timon is firmly convinced that the audio-animatronic figures populating Jungle Cruise are far superior to their flesh-and-blood counterparts over at Animal Kingdom and takes every opportunity to point this out, while looking ruefully at Dave each time.
After the Cruise, we decide to head over to Pirates, which surprisingly has a line. The park is pretty dead by MK standards, so we find this puzzling; we conclude that all of these people have seen the movie and are hoping that the ride is similar. I suggest that announcing “Orlando Bloom is not here” over the P.A. would clear out half the queue, but alas, the announcement never comes.
After Pirates, Angel and Dave have to head off for lunch at Pop Century and we agree to meet up at Epcot later. Shortly afterward, Mikey has to leave to get to work, leaving John and me alone again. I note that our party has gone from 2 to 3 to 5 to 3 to 2 again over a relatively brief span. John tells me my fly is open and keeps walking.
After finishing up with the other “biggies” at MK, the two of us decide to head over to Epcot around 4. I’m hitting my mid-day wall at this point, having been up since 4 this morning. I doze off on the monorail before we ever get moving; naturally, the first thing John wants to do at Epcot is Spaceship Earth. My sleepy eyes thank him, but also sadly note that the ride is only about 10 minutes long. The soothing voice of Jeremy Irons and the clickety-clack of the time machine on the tracks drift me away. Somewhere in the distance, I can smell Rome burn…
My reverie is disturbed all too quickly, and I’m staring at the bright sun again. After beaning John with a snowball and swigging a full cup of Beverly just for the hell of it at Ice Station Cool, I suggest we head over to Mission: Space before grabbing some lunch. Based on what I’ve heard, eating before Space might not be such a grand idea.
Before getting on Space, we are inundated with approximately 745 reminders that people with motion sickness or problems with dark, enclosed spaces, spinning, or Gary Sinise’s voice should strongly reconsider riding. By the time we’re strapped into the capsule, I’ve heard more warnings than the FDA posts on a pack of Menthol’s.
During the ride itself, I make it a point to close my eyes and look from side-to-side, just as I was specifically told not to. What can I say…I’m a born rebel.
After what turns out to be a relatively tame excursion to Mars, we head over to China for some grub. We decide to try the Lotus Blossom; I have the Grilled Chicken bowl and beef and corn soup….John has the steak bowl and some Oolong tea.
It’s approaching 5, so I turn on my cell with its nearly dead battery once again. I have tried calling Angel a couple of times already, only to have the phone die on me. At this point, I am very frustrated with the thing, so I decide to just turn the phone on long enough to get her number from my phone book and call her from a pay phone. While I’m writing down her number, the phone lights up and it turns out to be Angel, about 3 seconds before I was going to turn the phone off…a Disney miracle. I bark out something resembling “Heywe’reinLotusBlossominChinaandmyphone’sabouttodiesomeetushereok?”
A few minutes later, Angel and Dave show up again. (Well, ok, more than a few minutes…turns out Angel is very good friends with every Custodial CM in World Showcase and has to stop to talk to all of them. I am about to give her grief over this when she pulls out her secret weapon: sad eyes and a pouty lower lip. My powers of griping are effectively neutralized.)
On the way around the Lagoon, Dave makes several stops to take pictures of…..everything imaginable. After we stop to wait on him a couple times, he informs us that we should just keep going and let him catch up. Dave knows his craft well, apparently.
We reach Japan, and Angel’s inner shopaholic comes out, so we decide to look in the store for a while. While there, we are joined by other Magic members: Rob (mkt) and Nick (DonickCo). I recognize Rob from his pics immediately, but am a little unsure of how “Yeah, I know exactly who you are!” will go over when Angel introduces us, so I just shake his hand and nod. As Rob wreaks havoc in the store, we talk enough for him to pick up that I’m a member of the boards….he proceeds to kick up the “Robness” a few notches, striking a kung-fu pose just outside the UK pavilion for Nick’s camera and then proceeding into the Rose and Crown to see what they have on draft.
Once in there, he asks for a sample of Stella Artois, a Belgian lager which he lets me taste. We agree that it’s quite good…then the girl behind the counter says it’s 8 bucks a pint, and we agree it’s not that good. (While I do consider myself somewhat of a beer connoisseur, my critiquing abilities basically extend to “that’s pretty good” or “that’s watered-down goat p i s s.” For a full description of the virtues of Stella Artois, visit Rob’s beer thread.) On the way out of the pub, Rob proceeds to strike up a conversation with a pair of blokes at a table, which quickly lapses into Spanish. I watch amusedly for a while before walking back out.
It’s approaching 7:30 or so now, and Nick, Dave, and Rob want to head over to their IllumiNations viewing spot to set up their sizeable amount of photographic equipment. The rest of us leave the trio of shutterbugs to go amuse ourselves further.
After Angel, John, and myself do Space once again, Angel informs us that she might be hungry. It’s a decision she’s been noodling over out loud for a couple of hours at this point, whether to get hungry or not. I settle the matter and tell her she’s hungry. She thanks me and we decide to head over to Mexico.
On the way, we encounter Rob, Nick, and Dave, who are still setting up for the show. They are surrounded by a couple of guys in suits and a guy on a Segway, leading Angel to believe that we’re all about to be kicked out of the park. It turns out that they’re just making nice with the managers, and Rob joins us for Mexican grub.
We proceed to La Cantina de San Angel, where Rob provides the group with what he calls an “educational moment” by ordering in Spanish. I try a bit of John’s churro, and we head back to our viewing spot, food in tow.
Once we return, we find Nick and Dave have been joined by Dan (bamboo7) and Jen (figmentbaby). John, who has lived a life free of this site, is a remarkably good sport as the rest of us bandy about usernames and laugh at running Magic boards jokes. At this point, I remember that John was supposed to look for a Cheshire Cat for his girlfriend back home, so we decide to take a quick look around a few Merch locations before the show, but find nothing. A Merch manager gives us a response along the lines of “Ooooh, I believe we produced those in mass quantities up until about last week, but then destroyed every remaining model in anticipation of your arrival.” She does give us the number to the Marketing Hotline, however, so she’s not completely unhelpful.
We return to the crew to settle in for IllumiNations. Afterward, the park empties out around us as Dave and Nick break down their equipment. When asked by one of us if he got a lot of good pics, Dave remarks with something like “yeah, a couple...out of about a hundred.”
We finally all head out. Nick agrees to give me and John a lift to the Contemporary, where we’re meeting Mike, before taking Angel home. Dan and Jen head for Cast Parking, and Rob and Dave slip away while Nick is using the facilities, leaving the four of us to walk out to Nick’s minivan.
We get there just a shade before 10, when Mike is supposed to be getting off. On the elevator ride up, a woman in a Raggedy Ann costume steps on and says “Don’t ask.” I respond with a shrug and say “It’s Disney, ain’t it?” It will take much more than a red mop on a lady’s head to throw me off in this environment.
We arrive at Chef Mickey’s on the 4th floor, and Mikey comes out with a not-so-pleased aura looming behind his plastered-on smile. He tells us that he’s having to stay late again, but will definitely not be here until 3 am. John and I look around while waiting for him; I notice that Donald Duck has lost about a foot since I saw him last. Mike tells me that when they changed Donald’s costume, they allowed for a very sizeable height range in who can play Donald. The new Donald comes up to about Mickey’s pacemaker….I find the whole thing a little creepy.
Mikey ends up being kept over only about 15 minutes, and we proceed to his car. He takes us to where John is parked over at MK, and we follow Mike to Walgreen’s, where we stock up on Doritos and Long Island mix before heading to Mikey’s place out near Celebration.
After a quick shower, I settle in the living room with the other two, sipping Long Islands and reminiscing about the CP. I check my cell, which is now charging and receiving a decent signal, and find several voicemails which failed to reach me throughout the day. Angel has spent more time talking to my mailbox than to me. Damn Nokia.
Another of my old roomies, James, calls from California, and for a moment, it’s just like old times, me and James arguing over football (a Raiders fan, so I don’t take too many cheap shots: I know he’s suffered enough this year) while Mikey just sits and shakes his head. Now, if only our fourth roomie were here and refusing to speak to any of us, the reunion would be complete. Since, technically, none of us are speaking to the fourth at this exact moment, I conclude that this is close enough. Aaah, memories. I finally settle down on Mike’s couch around 1, putting the cap on a very long day.
(continued...)
Friday is normally my day to sleep in, but not today. I’m going home from school today, and since my beloved ’92 Shadow is feeling sick right now, I’m at the mercy of others for transportation. It’s not too bad as long as you can live your life within the radius of half a mile, but anything beyond that requires strategery. Today my mom is coming to pick me up, which means I have to work around her schedule; working around her schedule means I’m up at 8 to be ready to meet her at 9.
The ride home goes off without a hitch, and we make it home around 11. I’m now an hour and 40 minutes closer to the magic, but can’t go any further just yet.
I spend the day being as unproductive as possible; after some nice napping, I decide to look on the hard drive to find some pics of my four-day-old nephew, whom I have yet to meet. As his face is now adorning the desktop of her computer, I presume that mom has added some more images of the li’l slugger. I presume correctly; in fact, it turns out that there are approximately 2,762 baby pictures in the My Pictures folder, many of which seem to have been taken in rapid succession, so that the result is much like looking at one of those animation books where flipping the pages gives the illusion of movement. (“See, those three are completely different…there his leg is down on the blanket…and there he has it raised….and there his left eye is closed.”) I realize that pictures of the new arrival now outnumber pictures of me on my mom’s hard drive by about a 12 to 1 ratio, which is, I suppose, as it should be.
Around 7ish that night, the folks and I pool up for a visit to see the baby. I gather that this has become somewhat of a daily occurrence, much akin to shopping, work, and breathing. Having gone nearly 24 hours without seeing the baby, my mom is especially antsy. When we get there, there are more people in my sister’s house than are probably allowed by state fire regulations. There’s something about a new baby that tends to attract humans in a way that few things can, with the possible exception of free doughnuts. The poor little guy spends the night being passed from hand to hand every five minutes. In his face is a look that says “Just wait ‘til I learn how to projectile vomit…I’ll show the lot of ya!” In the midst of the fray, Alexander and I do get a little quality time. He looks up at me as if wondering how long this new arrangement will last. Before I can respond, my mom is clamoring to hold him again. I hand him over; it has been over five minutes, after all.
Around 9ish, we head home, after a quick trip to the store. The Orlando trip is still coming together, even at this late stage. My friend John and I are planning on making an early start and then staying with Mike, one of my old roomies from the CP, on Saturday night. Only problem is I’ve called Mike twice in two days to finalize plans and heard nothing. He rings me up about 10, tells me he’s gotten off work about 3 in the morning the past two nights, and says he’ll meet us anytime tomorrow. He’s letting us crash at his apartment Saturday night and then Maingating us into the parks on the second day. John and I decide to convene at my place around 5ish the next morning and head out.
I finally doze off about midnight…..my circadians aren’t used to 4 am wake up calls. The sacrifices I make in the name of hedonism….
4 am comes all too quickly, but I fight my way out of bed and am very much awake by the time John shows up at 5:05. I give him a little grief for being late and we hustle to the car. It is hovering around 32 with ice coating the windows of the cars outside. I realize that those of you around New York, Boston, and Chicago are drooling right now, wishing you could have a morning so warm, but this is the south, where we have very thin blood and make a big deal about the temperature falling below 32, when we can officially say “It’s freezing out.” The inside of John’s car makes me quickly forget the temperature outside, as he proceeds to leave the heater on until the paint on my T-shirt starts collecting in a little pool on the floorboard. I shed my jacket and start threatening to shed more, until we reach a compromise. He turns the heater down until it’s around a liveable 93 inside the car. Moderation is good.
After a quick pit stop, we are on the road around 5:15. Amazingly, I stay awake the entire way down. We hit Jacksonville around 6:30, Daytona around 7:45, and shortly before 9, we are taking the familiar exit which leads right to our old home in Vista Way.
We decide to stop for some grub at the Wendy’s right next to the complex, where the night managers and I were pretty much on a first-name basis during my Program; seeing the apartments again, just from the outside, is pretty surreal. I haven’t been here in over a year, but it seems like I just left. I decide to limit the Rod Serling-esque ruminations and go in to grab some breakfast. Ah, fried potato products and caffeinated beverages first thing in the morning, served by a young lady with a distinct Hispanic accent…I’m definitely home.
Shortly after 9, we head for the Magic Kingdom. I try calling Mike, but my cell isn’t getting the greatest reception, thus beginning a weekend-long struggle. I finally get him, but he’s going to be late; in the back of our minds, John and I had hoped he would offer to Maingate us both days, so we could save our Comps for another trip. It is not to be, and so we proceed to the MK parking lot.
It’s a good bit warmer than back home, but still a little cool by Florida standards. The ride over to the TTC on the tram makes me long for the inside of John’s car, where the mirrors are now permanently warped.
We arrive at MK a little after 9 and decide to head for Space Mountain. Afterwards, I call Mike again, and he says he’ll be there in 15 minutes. We decide to wait for him around the Tomorrowland entrance instead of doing another ride, forgetting that 15 minutes in Orlando time isn’t what it is in most parts of the world. John relieves the monotony by whipping out a drawing pad and sketching the castle; what type of person thinks at the beginning of the day “I’d better pack the sketchpad and a pencil in case I get bored” I have no idea, but I guess that’s the mind of an artist.
Around the same time, I call Anqelique, whom I have never spoken with outside of Instant Messenger. She answers with a distinctly sleepy, “why-are-you-calling-now?” tone, but I am relieved to know that she does, in fact, exist outside my computer. She says that she’s heading over to MK as soon as she blocks my phone number between the hours of midnight and noon, and will meet us when she gets there.
Mikey shuffles over toward where we are about half an hour later. Mike is from New Jersey, and after our College Program, went back for approximately 15 minutes before deciding it was too cold and returning to his job at Chef Mickey’s. I make the introductions and we continue our tour of Tomorrowland.
We decide to do Timekeeper first, which I have never seen, followed by the Carousel of Progress, which I haven’t seen since I was about 7. Both attractions were running “seasonally” throughout my Program, which apparently means as long as they open them for about 10 minutes every 3 months, they can get away with calling them Seasonal. Timekeeper is about to return to Seasonal operation the very next day, so I feel a particularly strong sense of destiny and fortuitousness to be here on this particular day. I mention this to John and Mikey, who proceed to walk about 20 feet away from me.
Noticing that it’s about time for Angel to show up, I look down at my cell and note that not only am I getting no reception, but my battery—which I charged just before leaving—is almost dead. The same phone which worked perfectly well all over freakin’ New England last summer has decided it doesn’t like Florida so much. Just before my battery starts making whiny, screechy noises, I check my voice mail and find a message from Angel. I resolve to call her back as we head into the PhilHarMagic theater. Just before we head into the auditorium, I hear Mikey say “protein spill.” Mike’s Puke-Dar has been distinctly honed over months at Chef Mickey’s. He can hear a kid tossing his cookies from nearly 300 feet away. I turn and see the familiar sight of a kid whose lunch has found a resting place on the floor in front of him. I smile to myself: It’s good to be back.
After PhilHarMagic, I call Angel back and we discover that we’re on opposite sides of Fantasyland, so I suggest we meet at the carousel. Once there, I see a girl who looks distinctly like the pics Angel has posted on the boards, so I conclude that it is either her or a really freaky doppelganger. I walk up to her grinning and pointing, and pray it’s not the latter of the two.
Angel has brought another friend from the boards with her: PhotoDave219. Photo Dave does a good job living up to his name, with a rather sizeable camera in hand and a tripod mounted on his back. I start wondering whether PhotoDave is his secret identity and if he has an alter ego like Clark Kent. Then I realize that the group is leaving me. I suspend all thoughts of photographically-related super powers and jog to catch up.
Dave suggests that we do the Jungle Cruise, so off to Adventureland we head. Once on board, we sit near the front of the boat. Our skipper says his name is Timon, and I check his nametag to confirm. I suppose Rafiki is on the next boat. Dave is wearing a Kilimanjaro Safaris hat, for which Timon gives him no end of grief. Timon is firmly convinced that the audio-animatronic figures populating Jungle Cruise are far superior to their flesh-and-blood counterparts over at Animal Kingdom and takes every opportunity to point this out, while looking ruefully at Dave each time.
After the Cruise, we decide to head over to Pirates, which surprisingly has a line. The park is pretty dead by MK standards, so we find this puzzling; we conclude that all of these people have seen the movie and are hoping that the ride is similar. I suggest that announcing “Orlando Bloom is not here” over the P.A. would clear out half the queue, but alas, the announcement never comes.
After Pirates, Angel and Dave have to head off for lunch at Pop Century and we agree to meet up at Epcot later. Shortly afterward, Mikey has to leave to get to work, leaving John and me alone again. I note that our party has gone from 2 to 3 to 5 to 3 to 2 again over a relatively brief span. John tells me my fly is open and keeps walking.
After finishing up with the other “biggies” at MK, the two of us decide to head over to Epcot around 4. I’m hitting my mid-day wall at this point, having been up since 4 this morning. I doze off on the monorail before we ever get moving; naturally, the first thing John wants to do at Epcot is Spaceship Earth. My sleepy eyes thank him, but also sadly note that the ride is only about 10 minutes long. The soothing voice of Jeremy Irons and the clickety-clack of the time machine on the tracks drift me away. Somewhere in the distance, I can smell Rome burn…
My reverie is disturbed all too quickly, and I’m staring at the bright sun again. After beaning John with a snowball and swigging a full cup of Beverly just for the hell of it at Ice Station Cool, I suggest we head over to Mission: Space before grabbing some lunch. Based on what I’ve heard, eating before Space might not be such a grand idea.
Before getting on Space, we are inundated with approximately 745 reminders that people with motion sickness or problems with dark, enclosed spaces, spinning, or Gary Sinise’s voice should strongly reconsider riding. By the time we’re strapped into the capsule, I’ve heard more warnings than the FDA posts on a pack of Menthol’s.
During the ride itself, I make it a point to close my eyes and look from side-to-side, just as I was specifically told not to. What can I say…I’m a born rebel.
After what turns out to be a relatively tame excursion to Mars, we head over to China for some grub. We decide to try the Lotus Blossom; I have the Grilled Chicken bowl and beef and corn soup….John has the steak bowl and some Oolong tea.
It’s approaching 5, so I turn on my cell with its nearly dead battery once again. I have tried calling Angel a couple of times already, only to have the phone die on me. At this point, I am very frustrated with the thing, so I decide to just turn the phone on long enough to get her number from my phone book and call her from a pay phone. While I’m writing down her number, the phone lights up and it turns out to be Angel, about 3 seconds before I was going to turn the phone off…a Disney miracle. I bark out something resembling “Heywe’reinLotusBlossominChinaandmyphone’sabouttodiesomeetushereok?”
A few minutes later, Angel and Dave show up again. (Well, ok, more than a few minutes…turns out Angel is very good friends with every Custodial CM in World Showcase and has to stop to talk to all of them. I am about to give her grief over this when she pulls out her secret weapon: sad eyes and a pouty lower lip. My powers of griping are effectively neutralized.)
On the way around the Lagoon, Dave makes several stops to take pictures of…..everything imaginable. After we stop to wait on him a couple times, he informs us that we should just keep going and let him catch up. Dave knows his craft well, apparently.
We reach Japan, and Angel’s inner shopaholic comes out, so we decide to look in the store for a while. While there, we are joined by other Magic members: Rob (mkt) and Nick (DonickCo). I recognize Rob from his pics immediately, but am a little unsure of how “Yeah, I know exactly who you are!” will go over when Angel introduces us, so I just shake his hand and nod. As Rob wreaks havoc in the store, we talk enough for him to pick up that I’m a member of the boards….he proceeds to kick up the “Robness” a few notches, striking a kung-fu pose just outside the UK pavilion for Nick’s camera and then proceeding into the Rose and Crown to see what they have on draft.
Once in there, he asks for a sample of Stella Artois, a Belgian lager which he lets me taste. We agree that it’s quite good…then the girl behind the counter says it’s 8 bucks a pint, and we agree it’s not that good. (While I do consider myself somewhat of a beer connoisseur, my critiquing abilities basically extend to “that’s pretty good” or “that’s watered-down goat p i s s.” For a full description of the virtues of Stella Artois, visit Rob’s beer thread.) On the way out of the pub, Rob proceeds to strike up a conversation with a pair of blokes at a table, which quickly lapses into Spanish. I watch amusedly for a while before walking back out.
It’s approaching 7:30 or so now, and Nick, Dave, and Rob want to head over to their IllumiNations viewing spot to set up their sizeable amount of photographic equipment. The rest of us leave the trio of shutterbugs to go amuse ourselves further.
After Angel, John, and myself do Space once again, Angel informs us that she might be hungry. It’s a decision she’s been noodling over out loud for a couple of hours at this point, whether to get hungry or not. I settle the matter and tell her she’s hungry. She thanks me and we decide to head over to Mexico.
On the way, we encounter Rob, Nick, and Dave, who are still setting up for the show. They are surrounded by a couple of guys in suits and a guy on a Segway, leading Angel to believe that we’re all about to be kicked out of the park. It turns out that they’re just making nice with the managers, and Rob joins us for Mexican grub.
We proceed to La Cantina de San Angel, where Rob provides the group with what he calls an “educational moment” by ordering in Spanish. I try a bit of John’s churro, and we head back to our viewing spot, food in tow.
Once we return, we find Nick and Dave have been joined by Dan (bamboo7) and Jen (figmentbaby). John, who has lived a life free of this site, is a remarkably good sport as the rest of us bandy about usernames and laugh at running Magic boards jokes. At this point, I remember that John was supposed to look for a Cheshire Cat for his girlfriend back home, so we decide to take a quick look around a few Merch locations before the show, but find nothing. A Merch manager gives us a response along the lines of “Ooooh, I believe we produced those in mass quantities up until about last week, but then destroyed every remaining model in anticipation of your arrival.” She does give us the number to the Marketing Hotline, however, so she’s not completely unhelpful.
We return to the crew to settle in for IllumiNations. Afterward, the park empties out around us as Dave and Nick break down their equipment. When asked by one of us if he got a lot of good pics, Dave remarks with something like “yeah, a couple...out of about a hundred.”
We finally all head out. Nick agrees to give me and John a lift to the Contemporary, where we’re meeting Mike, before taking Angel home. Dan and Jen head for Cast Parking, and Rob and Dave slip away while Nick is using the facilities, leaving the four of us to walk out to Nick’s minivan.
We get there just a shade before 10, when Mike is supposed to be getting off. On the elevator ride up, a woman in a Raggedy Ann costume steps on and says “Don’t ask.” I respond with a shrug and say “It’s Disney, ain’t it?” It will take much more than a red mop on a lady’s head to throw me off in this environment.
We arrive at Chef Mickey’s on the 4th floor, and Mikey comes out with a not-so-pleased aura looming behind his plastered-on smile. He tells us that he’s having to stay late again, but will definitely not be here until 3 am. John and I look around while waiting for him; I notice that Donald Duck has lost about a foot since I saw him last. Mike tells me that when they changed Donald’s costume, they allowed for a very sizeable height range in who can play Donald. The new Donald comes up to about Mickey’s pacemaker….I find the whole thing a little creepy.
Mikey ends up being kept over only about 15 minutes, and we proceed to his car. He takes us to where John is parked over at MK, and we follow Mike to Walgreen’s, where we stock up on Doritos and Long Island mix before heading to Mikey’s place out near Celebration.
After a quick shower, I settle in the living room with the other two, sipping Long Islands and reminiscing about the CP. I check my cell, which is now charging and receiving a decent signal, and find several voicemails which failed to reach me throughout the day. Angel has spent more time talking to my mailbox than to me. Damn Nokia.
Another of my old roomies, James, calls from California, and for a moment, it’s just like old times, me and James arguing over football (a Raiders fan, so I don’t take too many cheap shots: I know he’s suffered enough this year) while Mikey just sits and shakes his head. Now, if only our fourth roomie were here and refusing to speak to any of us, the reunion would be complete. Since, technically, none of us are speaking to the fourth at this exact moment, I conclude that this is close enough. Aaah, memories. I finally settle down on Mike’s couch around 1, putting the cap on a very long day.
(continued...)
