Cheery, Not Whiny

Summer of Blogging... day #5

Three awesome things from today...

Mama Ruthless, Sis in Law Angie and the childrens went to Walt Disney World last week.  Mama Ruthless brought me back this particular pin...

She rules.

Wendi Deckermiller commented on yesterday's blog that her boo Mike Deckermiller loves Star Wars pins... enjoy this.   (also, Wendi, I do have an Empire emblem pin--but its got Mickey ears on it...)

Oh, and there's this...

Also brought back from Disney World... three of them, as a matter of fact.  I usually get one of these when I go, so I'm pretty excited to dig into this.

And finally... The Lovely Steph Leann asked me to stop by Wal-Mart tonight to pick up a few things... and along the way, I found this...

Cheerwine, my all-time favorite beverage, ever, narrowly edging out Dr. Brown's Cherry Soda.  Cheerwine makes me happy.  Cheery, not whiny, you can say.

Anyway, there's my thoughts for tonight. 

Its Gettin' Hot in Herre

The Summer of Blogging Day Three

So, on Wednesdays, I typically work from really, really early in the morning to mid-afternoon, and when I come home, I immediately sit down at the computer and start writing up a rundown and show notes for The Deucecast...

The Deucecast is our podcast, and by "our" I mean my buddy Mikey and Matty, Tommy Mac and Shawn.  We've also had Hurricane Rhett in studio, JustFish to promote his new book and The Good Doctor Earl... and so, today, like every Wednesday, I began typing up what would be our 9th episode, "At Podcast's End". 

Two hours later, I was satisfied with what we had, having already emailed Mikey and Matty the details, gotten some feedback from them on a few changes and had a finished couple of documents.  Glancing at the clock, its a little past five, so its time to finally get upstairs, change out of my coffee makin' gear and put on my not workin' gear and head out for a meeting at Valleydale Church (an sbc fellowship).

I walk up the steps, not paying much attention to anything, and about six steps in, I notice something drastically different.  Its hot.  Like, its really, really hot.  Like a wall of heat I just stepped through, or ascended into, it was horrible. 

The Cabana sports two AC units, one for upstairs and one for downstairs, and the thermostat for the top floor is at the top of the steps... it reads a nice, breezy 85 degrees.  Like someone who opens the hood an jiggles a wire when their car won't start, then expecting it to just fire right up, I push a few buttons expecting the air to kick right on... aaaaaand... it doesn't.  The thermostat is set on 74, the temp just rose to 86.

And I'm already sweating.

Long story short, some very dear friends of ours recommended someone they knew and used for their AC work--I wont say who the friends were nor who they recommended, not because I dont want to talk about them, but because I don't know if they's appreciate me telling the world who "their guy" is.  But... our friends are rock stars and awesome, and The AC Guy is turning out to be quite a find himself. 

My father in law, Big Daddy Ron, and Bro in Law Tyler stopped by first to look at the issue--Big Daddy Ron has built a few homes pretty much by hand, so I trust his judgement.  However, there wasn't much he could do but try a diagnosis.

When The AC Guy arrived, who by the way was a rock star for even coming to our home at 8pm at night, he did a deeper diagnosis... turns out Big Daddy Ron wasn't too far off base, and myself and The AC Guy found the real problem...

There was water dripping from too much condensation, cause it to fill up the drip overflow pan, which shut the AC unit off for safety issues.  Thankfully, the motor is still in good shape, the compressor still works and it seems to be a little cloggy drainage issue... we hope.  We hope.

Apparently, some of the parts and labor is under warranty still... but it looks like our issue is not.  The important part is, its cooling off right now.  I went upstairs a few minutes ago, and it the temperature is around 79 or so, which is considerably better than where it had gotten.

The joys of being a homeowner.  Can't wait til we need a plumber.

The Productive Kicks (and other dangers of homeownership)

Coming to you live and direct from Starbucks on Hwy 280 & Hwy 119... because?  Because my modem, the one we paid for when we first got AT&T DSL service, decided, "Eh, bunk this.  I'm done."  And now we have nothing but a little green flashing light that is barely flashing green.  Naturally, because this is how it always works, its out of warranty, so we have to pay a cost to have it replaced.  Not only is it $40, which I guess for a modem isn't bad, but we also have to pay $14.95 shipping for 3-5 days ground service.  This, my fellow readers, is what is known in common circles as "a racket". 

This is not the actual offending modem, but one like it, so
you get the idea.

If you've ever seen this kind of modem, its about the size of an index card, about as thick as two stacked iPhones, and weighs less than a roll of quarters.  I actually told the lady, "Seriously, $14.95?  Can you not just shove it into a padded envelope and mail it for like, $6 or something?"  Of course she said she could do no such thing, and so, no modem until next Wednesday... hopefully, its next Wednesday because... next Wednesday?  That's right...

THAT

IS

AMERICAN IDOL

For what its worth, I've already asked The Lovely Steph Leann if she is in for Idol, and she says she is.  So I guess I am to.  I think we've already discussed this in a previous post, so we'll get to Idol next week.

So, our toilet is jacked up too.  Upstairs in our master bathroom.  The darn thing has been leaking water down the pipes for two months, and in typical d$-N-The Lovely Steph Leann fashion, we finally got around to doing something about it... well, sort of.  I bought a $10 part at Wal-Mart and figured I would just replace the whole mechanism in the tank.  Easy enough, right?  On the box, it says in bright, bold letters, "EASY TO INSTALL!" and when you flip the box over, it goes even further by saying "INSTALLS IN MINUTES!!"

Not many words are more false than "EASY TO INSTALL" and "INSTALLS IN MINUTES" aside from something like "OBAMA CARES FOR YOU", but hey, I am a homeowner.  This is what homeowners do, right?  They fix their own small problems.  So I bought the part... and that was Phase I.  The part sat in our master bathroom for about, I dunno, two months, collecting dust in the unopened box until I got the gumption for Phase II. 

Phase II always comes in when I get my "productive kicks".  This constitutes an afternoon, or an evening, sometimes even a whole day, when my whole mindset is focused on getting things done that should have been done long, long ago.  Sometimes, I'll pull apart and put back together, reorganized, entire rooms of the house... I'll sort through CDs and books and shed myself of unused or unwanted items... I'll clean the entire kitchen, getting all dishes from around the house into the dishwasher, and if said kick lasts long enough, I'll get them out and put them away, all so The Lovely Steph Leann can come home to a dirty-dish-free environment. 

I have to be careful, though... sometimes I'll get knee deep into a project and then fall out of my productive binge just as easily as I got into it.  And thats dangerous, because if I've got a mess around me, with intentions of reorganizing, sorting or disposing, and suddenly I lose all ambition, then I've got to put everything back, and it all goes back haphazardly and usually with no sort of sense.

Last week, I got into a Productive Kick. 

Okay, I know this started with the toilet, and now I'm going to talk about baseboards, but I promise you, we'll tie this into toilets, so bare with me, okay?

When we moved into The Cabana, we had plans for the upstairs.  The whole house had been painted with a drab, generic taupe color (The Lovely Steph Leann will read this and correct me, I'm sure, but it was a basic greyish, brownish, whitish, blahish color) and we wanted to paint each room of the house at some point.  Before we even moved in, our brother in law Randy painted our bedroom, which still looks great almost three years later. 

The middle bedroom was to be a guest room, but we were going to keep some books in there, our CDs, a desk, and a futon we purchased for guests to sleep on.  Eventually, when Campbell Isaiah and/or Lorelei Addison make their appearance, that room will become a nursery.  And The Lovely Steph Leann had plans for that back bedroom... it was to become her Creative Memories crop room

SIDEBAR... The Lovely Steph Leann is an extremely talented photograph rescue specialist, as well as a memory sustainer operationalist.  That's fancy words for saying she is a Creative Memories consultant, which means she deals in scrapbooking--wait, wait, don't go away... scrapbooking is far and beyond pasting pictures into a book with little pieces of construction paper... it, like the rest of the free world, has gone digital.  So not only can she help you salvage all those pictures and precious memories you have lying in a box in a drawer by converting them to digital, she has also started a service where she takes your pictures, thusly taking the work off of your hands, and will make books for you.  Imagine a yearbook, full color, except every picture has one of your memories, your family members, your friends, your kids, et al in it (instead Brandy, the head cheerleader and not so coincindentally the yearbook editor which explains why she is on 14 different pages out of a 50 page book)... anyway, her site is here, but you can also find me and ask for her info for a price quote and such.  She's awesome.

So, the back room was/is going to be her crop room.  She went to IKEA with her cousin, spent way too much money there--its like, when you walk up to the doors, they ask you how much you expect to spend, and when you tell them, they add 35% and tell you that is the new number you will spend... and they are right.

She came back from IKEA with a bunch of home items, including a desk that will be assembled for her crop room.  Now, in the corner of that room is a large "bonus room"... when we moved in, it was nothing but rafters, studs and insulation, but we paid them an extra $50 to pipe a vent in that area, and Big Daddy Ron came over and we (and by we, I mean he) put up sheetrock, put a door and door frame to block off the heating unit, added a ceiling and covered up the rafters and had it painted. 

After the room was finished, we had it carpeted and then I painted baseboards, to which we (and by we, I mean he) installed them in the bonus room. 

Its important to note, however, that from the time we had the room finished to the time that the baseboards were installed should have taken about a month.  Maybe two.  Four if we are really lazy.  It actually took about two years.  Cause we just never got around to doing it.  The baseboards actually sat in our living room floor, stretching into the kitchen, for about a month or so, because I just never got around to getting them into the garage and painting them... trust me, The Lovely Steph Leann was on me just about every day for it, as well she should have been.

Alright, so we got them painted, got them installed, and they needed to be touched up.  When the touch up occurs, then we can put that desk together, and then that room, which is still filled with boxes and stuff--no other way to describe it than "stuff"--will be on the road to being completed.

Now, back to the toilet... well, not quite, but we're getting there.  After about two months, I finally decided it was time to not only get the toilet fixed, but also get those baseboards touched up.  With The Lovely Steph Leann downstairs watching HGTV (for some reason, she's been obsessed with HGTV... really, most of the shows on that channel could be called "Renovations You'll Never Do On Houses You'll Never Afford... So Come and See the New Deck, Loser") I went to the laundry room, pulled down the two cans of paint that were previously used to do the baseboards--each can looks exactly alike, so its the same paint, right?--and then disappeared into the back bedroom, and on into the bonus room.  I had purchased a paint brush and some painters tape a few months back, and now that I think about it, probably at the same time I purchased the toilet unit, and so I went to work.

I laid old sheets carefully down on the carpet, the new carpet which still smelled like just that, and still had that springy step of not being used much, and then used the wide blue painters tape to tape off the wall and the carpet.  About four or five inches out on the carpet, about three inches up the wall, all the way around, the ten feet of one wall, the foot or so on each side of the door, then another twelve or thirteen feet on the long wall, then the side wall for another five feet, then back around the closet door again. 

I shook the can briskly, hearing the slosh of paint inside, and was so happy.  This was going to be quick and painless, I'd knock this out in about twenty minutes, and since my Productive Kicks usually last a few hours, who knows what I could get done, right?  Right!

(play cool working music) With a screw driver, I pulled the cap off, then used a plastic piece of a broken clothes hanger to stir the can up.  And then, I dipped the small brush in and began to paint the boards.  Left, right, left, right, dip.  Left, left, right right, dip.  Left, right, left, rig (cue screeching sound of record needle being ripped off of an LP).  I stared at the baseboard.  The baseboard all the way around the wall was a creamy, dark white color.  The color that I had now splashed on about 14 inches of this baseboard was a lighter white.  And very noticable.  I looked at the can, and inside the can, then looked at the other can.  Just alike.  I opened up the other can, and saw that the other color was darker.  Creamier.  Kind of a... well, a creamy, dark white color. 

Now, one could assume that this 2nd color is the right one, that I should immediately begin to use this other color to cover up the white that I've descrated the baseboard with... but, as with many things in the past, I figured it was time to ask the boss.  This ruined my plan of being able to come downstairs and say, "Hey, dear, guess what, the baseboards are all done!  Let's put that desk together!"  Instead, I came downstairs and softly said, "Hey... uh... what color are the baseboards upstairs, in the back closet room?"  She looked up and thought for a minute, "Um... I think its... Signature Creamy, I believe."  Then she eyed me.  "Are you... doing the baseboards?"  I nodded, and she smiled, "Thanks!" and then went back to the HGTV show she was involved in.  So much for surprise.

Back upstairs, I looked at both cans.  One said "Signature Creamy", in tiny letters on a small sticker that I didn't see.  One said something else.  And, because I've used 3,000 words telling this story, you can guess which color was on the baseboards and which color should have been.  So, I used the new color, and really, got the boards done in about twenty minutes.  Mostly, it was just covering up the nails and screws that had been used to put the baseboards in place, and it was done.

Okay, to the toilets... Well, we don't want to let a Productive Kick go to waste, so I immediately head to our bathroom.  I grab the box, which had somehow made it way into our closet and was leaning up against our laundry basket, and take it into the bathroom.  I pull down some unused, old towels and spread them out on the floor around the toilet bowl, and then flush the water out of the toilet, turning the water off before it could fill up again.  I take the top off of the tank and set it carefully aside, and then use old towels to sponge up the remaining few inches of water in the tank.  Need it dry for my toilet transplant, which really should take, what, twenty minutes again?  Maybe thirty?  Thats one hour of a Productive Kick, and who knows what else I could get done?  Scour the garage?  Scrub down our porch?  Build a deck?  Yeah!  I'm rolling!

I open the box and pull the piece out.  And those words "EASY TO INSTALL" and "INSTALLS IN MINUTES!" are atop the instructions, and as I scan the diagram, it doesn't seem that hard, right?  Right.  I pull out the comparable piece in the tank, and am all set to put in the new piece... this is going to be great!  I mean, painted baseboards, get the toilet to work, The Lovely Steph Leann is going to fall into the arms of her wonderful handy man and all will be right with the world, right?  Right!

Wrong!

Yeah, there's a piece that won't come out of the bottom of the tank.  After banging it a few times, trying my best to unscrew it with several forms of plier apparatuses, pushing and pulling with my own bare fingers, I gave up.  My Productive Kick was fading, and really, I just wanted to go get some tacos. 

Well, a week later, our toilet still doesn't work.  We got Big Daddy Ron involved, and he had a hard time with it too.  As he tried to remove the piece I couldn't get out, he asked me if I had a crescent wrench.  I laughed and said, "Uh... no."

"Man, you gotta get some tools," he replied.
"Dude, if I can't fix it with a regular pair of pliers, a screw driver or duct tape, then I can't fix it and a set of a dozen crescent wrenches isn't going to help me in the least..."  I replied back.

We (and by we, I mean he) concluded it was a faulty seal, one that is in the other piece that I didn't try to replace nor bought a part for, and he got it from Home Depot later.  With the seal replaced, the water still leaked.  And it leaks now. 

Luckily, we have a bathroom down the hall which The Lovely Steph Leann and I are using.  Its not as comfortable, but it will do. 

I guess this falls under "The Problems of the Blessed", cause we have two more working bathrooms, the money to call a plumber (we just want to avoid it if at all possible), baseboards that are done in a room that will be a large closet that will be full of stuff we really should get rid of, and The Lovely Steph Leann still loves me no matter what color I paint wrong, nor how I mess up while repairing the toilet. 

Its just inconvenient, ya know?  Such is life.  I'll just sit back and wait for another Productive Kick and maybe I'll just build a new house.

The Toy Story Mania Dash (and disaster)

Continuing with another story from our July 2010 Disney World trip, attended by me, The Lovely Steph Leann and the In-Laws, Mama Ruthless and Big Daddy Ron.  So far, we've done...

--PENSACOLA BOOBAGE... Spending the night in Pensacola, including getting flashed on the road side.
--DISNEY IN HOT JULY... Day One of the trip, including the French Quarter, dinner at Epcot, the Electrical Light Parade, the Haunted Mansion Wailer and the Saturday morning's Soarin' snafu...
--ATTACK OF THE LEFT EYE... How my contacts and my eyes conspired to ruin my trip through Ellen's Energy Adventure

On Sunday morning, we were up early because Hollywood Studios opened early, at 8am.  We were up and at 'em at 7, ready to get on the bus soon enough, get over there, get in line and get into the park as soon as possible... what awaited us this morning was the event that any Disney trip worth its salt must make, that being the Toy Story Dash.

THE TOY STORY DASH

Upon entering Pixar Place, you'll see Toy Story Mania, if not
for the signage, than for the 53,008 people trying to ride it.

Toy Story Midway Mania is by far and away the most popular ride/attraction in Disney's Hollywood Studios, and probably one of the most popular in the entire World of Disney.  That means that within the first 30 minutes or so, the wait time for the ride shoots through the roof.  In the down times, it gets anywhere from 45 minutes to an hour (and when I say "downtime", I mean a crowd slow enough to get on Rock'n Roller Coaster in like, 5 minutes) and on busy days, I've seen 80 minute to 120+ minute waits.   I have the firm belief, at least for my own self, that NO ride is worth waiting 2 hours for, but if there was such a ride, Toy Story Mania might be it.

So, the answer is, Fastpass it.  But there is a finite number of Fastpasses available per day... I found out later that what they do is insert a number of Fastpasses into a machine, and once those are gone, thats it.  No more.  Toy Story Mania Fastpass lines are sometimes longer than the initial queue for the ride itself, and if you don't get a Fastpass for it, you might not get to ride it, save waiting 2 hours of your already crammed Disney day in line.  The ride opened early 2008, so the first time we were there after the ride was open was September 2008, when we went with DeNick and DeLisa... It was a short trip, and we got to The Studios later in the afternoon, with the wait around 90 minutes.  In hindsight, I wished we had waited, but we elected to not ride it.

Thus, the Toy Story Dash.  When you get into Hollywood Studios, like Epcot, they will only let you go so far before you run into a rope.  At the park's opening, you have a crucial decision to make, one that will essentially set your schedule for you for the rest of the day... do you want to ride Toy Story Mania, yes or no?  If no, then when that rope drops, you go right.  Go ride Rock'n Roller Coaster, or Tower of Terror, and though there will be a small crowd to fight through, but nothing that will cost you more than 10, maybe 15 minutes of wait time for anything. 

If yes, then you enter The Dash.  When the rope drops, ticket(s) in hand, you begin to move quickly forward.  Hundreds of other people are having the same goal as you, all to get a Toy Story Mania Fastpass, and like you, they are flooding that way.  The goal is to not knock over strollers, even though moms try to run over you, to not bump into anyone, even though everyone is stampeding, not to flatten small children, even though parents are dragging kids along and those same kids are just all kinds of walking in front of you.

At some point, Cast Members must have figured out that just letting a mass of people storm the Toy Story Mania castle might be dangerous, so they have various Cast Members leading the pack with a small rope--go around that rope, and they pull you aside and you have to wait for everyone to pass.  Kinda like how some shampoo bottles say "Hey, don't eat this!" on the bottle, because some dorkface ate it, I'm guessing they Cast Members are there now for crowd control because it was deemed necessary.

THE TOY STORY DISASTER
Now that you know about The Toy Story Mania Dash, this is all leading to the Sunday morning of our Disney vacation. As I said before, we were there way, way early, and this allowed us to be first in line at the turnstiles.  So, when they started allowing us to get in, I was first in.  I walked at a brisk pace to down the street between the shops and Keystone Clothiers, to the rope.  The rope.  It was in my hand.  I put my hand on the rope, looked ahead toward the Sorcerer's Hat, and knew... I just knew... I was going to be one of the first people to get a Fastpass.  I would make sure I got tickets from Big Daddy Ron, The Lovely Steph Leann and Mama Ruthless, I would get our passes...

...and then we'd jump in the regular line, wait maybe 15, 20 minutes, then we'd ride Toy Story Mania!  Oh, the fun time we would have!  Then, we'd exit the building, and while the wait time had increased to 45 minutes, we'd head over to Rock'n Roller Coaster... we'd wait 20 minutes or so, and ride it.  Then we'd do Tower of Terror.  Perhaps by that time, we'd be able to get another Fastpass, but more than likely, we'd wait the probably-no-more-than-30-minutes-by-now wait time, and ride it.  And by 11am, pehaps 11:30, we'd have done the three biggest, most popular rides in the park, with passes to ride Toy Story Mania again at our convenience.  And we'd ride it again, or maybe we wouldn't... who knows!  We have the power!  All because I had the rope in my hands. 

Rope in hand, I veered around to see Mama Ruthless coming up behind me.  I was a little worried for a few seconds, but I saw that she was waving her ticket... had to have that to get all of our Fastpasses.  My phone buzzed.  It was The Lovely Steph Leann.  I figure it will say something like "wait for us, need our tix" or "where r u?" or "see you, don't move, coming".  But no.  It didn't say something like that. 

"Dad's ticket doesn't work"

Wait... what?

I reread it.

"Dad's ticket doesn't work"

Those four words means that the entire morning just came crashing down.  All hope of riding Toy Story Mania in the next 20 minutes, gone.  Riding Rock'n Roller Coaster in the next hour, gone.  Riding Tower of Terror in the next 2 hours, gone.  Getting those three big rides done by 11:30, all gone.  Walking around, laughing at those people in the 120 minute Toy Story line, taking our pick of whatever ride we want because everyone else is on the the big rides, walking easily from ride to ride to ride, with Fastpasses burning a hole in our pocket, Gone Gone Gone!!!!! 

LETTING GO
As I turned around, my hand still clutched the rope.  It didn't want to let go.  It held on tightly, and after a few seconds, it gave one more squeeze... and released.  As I moved away from the rope, like water filling in the space that a rock occupied, suddenly my little space by the rope was immediately taken by someone else who's entire party had working tickets. 

I was ahead of all of these people.  And now, like a confused lemming, am
going back the way I came.  Sigh.  Not good times.

I made my way through the ever-thickening crowd to the turnstile, where Mama Ruthless and The Lovely Steph Leann stood on one side, my side, and Big Daddy Ron stood on the other, bar in front of him, with a ticket that just plainly did not work.  And it dawned on me... the ticket didn't work for one of two reasons, the first being that the ticket was good, but they weren't taking it.  I had hoped this would be it, because if it was, and we went back and got another ticket, even though we had a working ticket, we were totally going to Guest Relations and getting one of those All Day Fastpass Fastpasses.  The second reason that it might not work, and the reason that was probably 97% more likely to be true, was that I had given Big Daddy Ron the wrong ticket.  Remember, I had a stack of tickets that I had gotten checked, and though I thought I had kept them separate, this incident proved that they weren't.

The crowd, roaring and loud getting in, swirled around us, the Cast Member, though smiling, obviously impatient for us to get out of her line, Big Daddy Ron looking at me with a "what do you want me to do?" face.  I leaned over and said, "We've got to get you another ticket..." and it then dawned on me that while the first two days of this trip I had carried my Kermit messenger bag (and every trip before this one had me taking a Mickey backpack), but today, especially since I was in glasses and couldn't wear contacts (thanks, Left Eye. Jerk.) I had no need for any sort of bag, save for the small pin pouch I was carrying. 

The extra tickets that I had in the room were on the table... wait, no they weren't... they were... in the chair, I think... wait... they were in the Kermit bag on the bed, in the side pocket... wait, the front pocket... wait... I dunno... when Big Daddy Ron said, "Give me your room key, tell me where they are, I'll go back and get the ticket..." I stammered.  I stuttered.  I had nothing.  I couldn't tell him, and the rushing swirl of people around people around us  I sighed, my hand clinched empty with no rope to hold, no hope to have.  I was going back to the room.

With one final glance at the Sorcerer's hat, maybe a hundred yards away, it might as well have been sixty miles away, and now with the crowd gathering into the hundreds between where I stood and the blasted, glorious rope, I turned to the exit, moved out of the turnstile and Big Daddy Ron and I walked out. 

We noticed that the bag check line, the line we came through an hour or so ago with nary a soul there, had grown to about twenty, maybe thirty people deep.  There was a flock of Internationalis Groupus swooping in as well.

BUS STOPPED
We walked down the long walk to the bus stop and stood.  Neither of us said a word, both of us frustrated at the entire situation.  I knew looking back, and it proved to be true, that it would be rather humorous a tale to tell, but at that moment, it was terrible.  We stood at the bus stop for French Quarter for what seemed like ages... I looked at my phone, and realized the park was now open.  Bus after bus after bus after bus pulled up at the drop off points, some of them saying "Riverside", some of them saying "All Star Sports", some of them saying "French Quarter", all of them pulling away without a glance to the two poor saps standing in the heat, awaiting a ride back to the room to get a ticket that worked.

Finally, a Cast Member crossed the street over to us and asked, "What are you guys waiting on?  A bus?"  I told her yes, we needed a quick ride back to the French Quarter.  She pointed to a blue bus in the distance and said, "See that bus over there?  I'm going to call them over here, they'll give you a ride back.  Otherwise you'll be here awhile, because the buses really aren't going to be doing any picking up for another hour or more."  We thanked her, and within five minutes, the non-Disney-owned but Disney-licensed bus stopped and we got on. 

The mood was a bit lighter on our way back, with both of us accepting the fact that it was what it was, nothing we could do about it now and so on.  I asked him to go to the concierge's desk and make sure that in fact, his ticket was already used, and I would dash to the room and get a good one.  He did, and I did, meeting up with him at the bus stop to Hollywood Studios.  And yes, the ticket was bad.

A bus came, we were laughing about the whole thing by now, and twenty minutes later, we were back at Hollywood Studios, again, walking towards the entrance, again.  The bag check had now grown at least fifty persons deep in each of the three or four lines, with the majority of the people wearing matching yellow shirts and other "I'm in a group of 75 chanting, obnoxious fer-ah-ners" garb.  Big Daddy Ron, who had somehow procured a bag of bananas and water (maybe he went back to the room too?) looked at the line, pulled out a bottle of water, threw the bag of bananas in the trash and deadpans, "I'll buy her some fruit in the park.  Let's go."

HOLLYWOOD... AGAIN
We got in, the park was now packed, and met up with The Lovely Steph Leann and Mama Ruthless over at Pixar Place... using the Fastpasses that The Lovely Steph Leann had already gotten, the boys rode the ride (his first time, my 10th at least), we came out the other side, and our day at Hollywood was finally set on the right track.



Through the rest of the day, we hit the big stuff, like Rock'n Roller Coaster via Fastpass, a 30 minute wait for Tower of Terror, The Great Movie Ride (which actually had a line that started outside the door, which I'd never experienced), we had lunch at Pizza Planet, and about midday, we were done with Hollywood Studios. 

Of course, I do need to mention the fact we met Lotso Huggin' Bear...

For those of you wondering, we smelled strawberries as we came around the corner, but Lotso didn't give off any
kind of fruity smell.  But, he's a hugger, as we all found out when he embraced each one of us.

And everytime we go to Hollywood Studios Art of Animation building, we do have to get pictures with The Incredibles. 

As we were in line for Lotso, we could see up the stairs where The Incredibles were.  At first, it was Frozone and Mr. Incredible--I've had a picture or two with each, but never together.  By the time we were out of the Lotso line, Frozone
had gone, and Mrs. Incredible came out.  Which was quite alright.

Because this story took forever, as my stories are wont to do, I'll stop here, and do one more with a few fireworks pics, the quick wrap up on the rest of the trip, and maybe a few things I missed... because I absolutely forgot to mention Captain EO... and it must be mentioned.

Attack of the Left Eye

Highlights from our July 2010 Disney World trip, attended by me, The Lovely Steph Leann and the In-Laws, Mama Ruthless and Big Daddy Ron:

--Spending the night in Pensacola, including getting flashed on the road side.
--Day One of the trip, including the French Quarter, dinner at Epcot, the Electrical Light Parade, the Haunted Mansion Wailer and the Saturday morning's Soarin' snafu...

So, we ended up riding Soarin', and had our Fastpasses to ride it later.  We made our way to the other side of the park, grabbed Fastpasses for Test Track and rode Mission: Space... I would have preferred "The Orange Team", which is the "more intense" ride, as its a centrifuge.  However, due to the stomachatical dispositions of some of our party, we went "The Green Team", which is the same ride, except it is actually in a simulator. 

Anyway, we did Mission: Space, which I love any ride that has "sick" bags in it, and as we walked out, we decided it was a good time to go right next door to Ellen's Energy Adventure. 

 Ellen’s Energy Adventure is this slow moving dark ride which begins in a large auditorium where you stand and see the pre-show, which is Ellen’s dream where she’s on Jeopardy, losing to her college roommate, Jamie Lee Curtis, since all the categories are about energy, and Bill Nye the Science Guy comes in to take her through history to show her where energy came from.

To preface this story… well, its really more of a coincidental side note… so, last summer my right eye had a spaz. It was an allergic reaction to the new contacts I was wearing, and so on and so forth… now, for whatever reason, my left eye had its own bone to pick with me, and decided to do it in the most improbable place. That would be Ellen’s Energy Adventure.

We stood in the pre-show, laughed with Ellen and Alex Trebeck and Bill Nye, and then proceeded to board the large trams that take us through the next 37 minutes of the ride. Its also worthy of note that the ride is a great place for a nap. Its fairly quiet, at least compared to many other rides, its dark, and you are sitting down in a semi-comfortable tram for THIRTY SEVEN minutes. If you can’t throw back a power nap out of that, then I can’t help you. Cause let me tell ya, The Lovely Steph Leann excels at power naps, and she gets it honest from Mama Ruthless and Big Daddy Ron.

The first part of the ride takes you to the explanation of The Big Bang, then you slowly ride into the dinosaur area. It was here that my left eye said, “Hey, Righty, watch this.” All of a sudden, my eyes started to water, and my left eye started hurting. Even felt a slight head pain behind my eye… you know that feeling when you have an unusual sharp pain in your head and you get this mental image of suddenly dying due to undetected, exploding brain aneurysm?

 (crickets)

Uh… yeah, me neither. That’s stupid. Haha… lol… hahaha… uh… moving on…

So, The Lovely Steph Leann beside me is gone. Mama Ruthless on the other side of her is nodding off. Big Daddy Ron is slipping away fast. And my nap is already ruined by an eye pain. In the dim light, I get my Kermit bag and place it in my lap, I fumble around for my contact case, my eye drops and my glasses. I cannot find my saline, so I grab my bottle of “Blink and Clean”, which isn’t ideal for soaking contacts, but hey, any port in a storm, right?

I can’t see the “L” on my contact case lid to determine which side is which, but its one of those that is slightly angled. So I hold it where I can see the shape, swear to myself I’ll remember the angle is pointed out, and first take out my left contact, then my right. I pour in the Blink & Clean, and squeeze it too hard, and it hits the open case and splashes out all over me. In the dark.

Finally, my contacts are out… this is good. I hate wearing my glasses on vacation, but it’ll have to do for a few hours. What usually happens is my eyes water a bit, I rub them a little bit, the red goes away in a few hours and it’s all good. I actually wasn’t expecting what happened.

The ride continues, my eyes are watering like a faucet, and I finagle a tissue out of The Lovely Steph Leann’s purse to wipe my eyes. In the dark. The ride ends, we all get off, and if you’ve ever had that feeling of coming out of a dark theater into a bright parking lot, that’s what it felt like. I was blinded when I walked out, like my pupils had been dilated. I was able to open my eyes just enough to make sure I didn’t stumble over anything or anyone, and after a few minutes, my eyes were clearing up. A little. They were still spewing tears, though.

We made our way through the park over to Soarin’, and I was still squinting to see anything. We got inside The Land, where the ride is located, and the lower light helped a bit, but even on Soarin’, it was still hard to see perfectly.

And this is how it was through the rest of the day—inside, my eyes would clear up… sort of… outside, I would struggle to see anything for a few minutes until my eyes adjusted, which they never would completely. It was horrible. Now, this is Walt Disney World, so horrible there is many times better than “pretty good” back home, but still…

Lunch was at Le Cellier in Canada, my favorite restaurant in all of the parks, and the lack of light in there was glorious. I dined on a plate of Mushroom Filet Mignon, served over sour cream mashed potatoes, white truffle and herb butter sauce, a side of mac and cheese (served in a small skillet steaming hot), and maple cream brulee.

DOWNTOWN DISNEY
We had already made the decision to spend some afternoon time in the room, during the hottest part of the day, and we ended our time at Epcot around mid-afternoon.  We went back to French Quarter, rested a bit, then caught a little ferry to Downtown Disney. 

Hopped off the ferry about 20 minutes later, spent about 25 minutes in line to just order our food at Earl of Sandwich, and the guy at the register wasn't happy about anything in his life, particularly the fact that the line of people was running the length of the counter and back three times and almost out the door.  

Registerer:  What can I get you?
Me:  The sandwiches come with sides, correct?
Registerer:  Yep.  What can I get you?
Me:  Okay, I want a Montagu with no lettice and...
Registerer:  Ok, what else?
Me:  Yeah, also a lemonade and...
Registerer:  Get drinks on the other end (looks over my shoulder while handing me a ticket) Next!

Had dinner, toured some of the stores, bought a bunch of pins at the Pin Trading Store, hung out in LEGO for a few, and then we split up with the In-Laws as The Lovely Steph Leann and I walked toward the other side of Downtown Disney.  We visited a store called D-Street, which sold lots of Vinylmation pins, figures and such.  Had a lengthy conversation with a couple of guys (and I do mean "couple) about Vinylmations, but they were super cool and friendly. 

Later that evening, found a bus at the stop, took it back to French Quarter, and that was the night. 

The next day?  The Toy Story Disaster.

Disney in Hot July

For those of you needing to catch up, here's the scoop... after taking S'ray and C'ray last year to Disney World during the hot June of 2009, The Lovely Steph Leann swore we'd never, ever go back to Lake Buena Vista in the summer time.  Too darn hot.  For me, I handled it well enough... even went back a month later with Tommy Mac, Amy McL and The Good Revr'n Ty Coffey.

Lo and behold, early this past June, she pipes up and says, "Hey, let's go to Disney World!"  Uh, what?  "Yeah!  We need to go see Summer Nightastic, with the Electrical Light Parade and the new fireworks show!"  I looked online, saw that the Summer Nightastic events would only be through August 14th (which, coincidentally, is the last day for high summer rates--on the 15th, it goes to value rates), and after an invite to The Lovely Steph Leann's parents, Big Daddy Ron and Mama Ruthless, we orchestrated the trip around mid-July, spending a necessary night in Pensacola first (as documented here).

Leaving the Pensacola Marriott early, we managed to arrive at Walt Disney World around mid-afternoon, check into our resort (Port Orleans French Quarter), got our luggage and had agreed to be ready to head to Epcot around 5ish.  It was open late, so we figured after our dinner at Rose & Crown, we could catch Illuminations: Reflections of Earth, then maybe hit the Magic Kingdom later on that night, as it was open until 3am. 

Slight drama on I-10 worth mentioning--Mama Ruthless, from the passenger seat, turned around and looked at me at The Lovely Steph Leann in the backseat, realizing her Annual Pass voucher, that which she'd turn in for her Annual Pass, was sitting on a table back home in Birmingham.  Not good times.

THE FRENCH QUARTER

The hotel I probably wanted to stay at the least became the hotel I think I'd
like to stay at every time.  Course, Pop Century, which I also love, is fairly
cheaper, especially since I'm paying real folk prices.

Wasn't sure if I'd like this resort, as I've seen it in passing and it kinda looked... well, boring and old.  I did like Riverside, having stayed there for a night before and liking the setting and rooms.  Port Orleans Resort is broken into two sections, a small area known as French Quarter, and a much larger area called Riverside. 

Riverside is absolutely huge, we discovered, with over 2,000 rooms in twenty buildings and four bus stops, while French Quarter contains "only" about 1,000 rooms in 7 buildings, all fairly close to the main building and bus stops.   The rooms were, well, roomy, with double sinks, comfy beds and a nice showerhead.  I told The Lovely Steph Leann that I want to come back to this hotel again.  Love Pop Century, but I do love some double sinks.

It was also good to check tickets at the concierge desk too... not only did I have some extra day passes from working at The Happiest Place in the Mall, I had managed to procure a few from another Cast Member who needed a little cash.  However, we had used a couple of them, and we didn't toss 'em because The Lovely Steph Leann wanted to keep them.  I had ten in my hand, I knew at least two were not good, so I had several of them checked at the resort, putting the bad ones in the side pocket of my messenger bag, putting the good ones in another pocket (this is important, by the way, for later).

EPCOT DINNER

Mama Ruthless (white shirt), The Lovely Steph Leann (blue
shirt) and Big Daddy Ron (passed out) await Illuminations
to begin, while we chat it up with fellow Disneyphiles

Going into Epcot was easy, as the chick at the Will Call found my information of when I purchased all the Annual Passes, and re-issued Mama Ruthless's pass.  I had another girl check a couple of day passes I had in my hand as well, to figure out the ones that were good and bad.  I put the bad ones in a side pocket of my messenger bag. (again, remember this.  this will come up again.)

Dinner at Rose & Crown was wonderful, and while The Lovely Steph Leann, Mama Ruthless and Big Daddy Ron all settled for the Sunday Roast, I elected to go with the Surf N Turf, which was grilled steak and fried fish with Yorkshire pudding, Irish potato gratin, seasonal vegetables, and Shallot gravy , with sticky toffee pudding for dessert.  Yum.

We slowly ambled our way over to the front of the Seven Seas Lagoon and found a great spot to watch Illuminations: Reflections of Earth, and it was our first experience with a new species...

THE INTERNATIONALIS GROUPUS
They travel in flocks, from all over the world.  They are brightly colored, in red, yellow or green, sometimes in white with colored markings.  Never less than five, ten, fifteen banding together, they move in a huge blob of figures.  They chant, because they know no better, never being told what is good and what is not good in our culture.  They chant during shows and performances, and sometimes for no reason at all.  They stand in the middle and cheer...

Here they are, at The Magic Kingdom, chanting and whooping.  Its like a
mating call.  Or war cry.  Or both.

...mind you, I'm excited for them to be able to come to this country, and I think its awesome that these kids are getting to travel--for some, they may never come to America again.  But that doesn't mean they aren't obnoxious as wearing wet socks.  Heard a story of one girl who was about to go into the Fast Pass line at Big Thunder and had about 60 Brazilians run straight into the line before she could get there.  The Cast Member saw it, and walked her to the front of the line, bless 'em heart. 

The huge international tour groups were all the talk around the parks, with nearly every guest we talked to saying something about them, getting caught in the middle as they swarmed by, or behind them in a Fast Pass line (I did see one Uruguayan hold up a Fast Pass line at Soarin' with a stack of, oh, about 50 tickets to get passes for, while the guest behind him were coming up with creative ways to kill themselves), or trying to avoid them in a flow of traffic.  There must have been at least 20 or more groups there.  Were I better person, I'm sure it would have been a prime ministry opportunity.

Talking with a Cast Member later on, I discovered that there were plenty of these groups to go around.  He said that alot of times they come from other countries and not only are the kids not told our cultural norms, but the leaders aren't either, so as far as they are concerned, its perfectly wonderful to go into the Argentine Warble Dance, drowning out what ever show you are trying to follow.  Don't chant for me, Argentina, indeed. 

THE MAIN STREET ELECTRICAL PARADE
The plan was to dash from Epcot over to MK to see The Main Street Electrical Parade, one of the main reasons we were going, and though it was close, we made it.  We managed to make nice with another family visiting from... Portland?... and we ended up watching the parade with them at MK.  Big Daddy Ron had another guy his age to banter with, and The Lovely Steph Leann and I kept the others entertained by answering all sorts of pin trading questions and Walt Disney inquiries.

This is one of the few new floats in the Electrical Light Parade.  Its a great way to start off the show, as I love me

some Tink.

This was Cinderella's section of the parade, with a dancing party and all.  I would hate to be those guys in the

corners, actually carrying the canopy

One of my favorite floats, here's Dopey riding a mine train of lighted jewels

Who doesn't love a good pirate ship?

The return of one of the most famous Light Parade floats, Elliott from "Pete's Dragon", with smoking nostrils and everything.  Pete rode, waving and smiling at everyone.

THE CURIOUS CASE OF THE HAUNTED MANSION WAILER

Magic Kingdom stayed open really, really late, and we took advantage of some of it after the parade was over.  We managed to ride The Haunted Mansion...

...in the Stretch Room, by the way, there was a wailing of a child.  Some parent had brought her 5, 6, maybe 7 year old kid, and this kid wasn't having it.  I can't knock the kid too much, because the first time I went to Disney World in 1982, I was scared to death of The Haunted Mansion (and subsequently refused to go on Pirates of the Caribbean after that) mostly because I was--am--scared of the dark.  That didn't help when I saw "Poltergeist" a few months later, but that's a whole other story.

So anyway, as we left the Stretching Room and made our way into what I label "The Cattle Call", that is sixty or seventy people all streaming into the same little area and forcing their way into a single file line, we could hear the kid crying.  And crying.  And crying some more.  Big Daddy Ron & Mama Ruthless were several spots ahead of us, and as it turns out, the kid playing the Crying Game was between my in-laws and myself and The Lovely Steph Leann.

The In-Laws got into a Doom Buggy, and just ahead of us, Crying Boy became full out Wailing Boy.  He and his mom were the next in line to get in a Doom Buggy, followed by us, and my man was gripping the railing tighter that Obama grips a bad Dubya report, and he was not letting go for any reason.  And he was now completely screaming.  Mom, obviously embarrassed, was trying to talk him down, and the chick with them (aunt?  sister?  domestic partner?) was just standing there, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else in the world than right there in that very moment.

Little man continued his death grip, and when the ENTIRE RIDE STOPPED, Mom shifted her coercion from "C'mon, it will be okay, let's just ride it" to "Okay, let go, we'll get out of here".  The Cast Member just continued to smile, standing off to the side, awaiting the decision of the absolutely hysterical boy as to whether to let go, or to continue holding on as if his life depended on it--heck, for all he knew, his life, his soul, his sanity did depend on it.  Finally, maybe 30 seconds after the ride stopped, the boy let go.  He was still sniffling, crying and unhappy, but mom took his hand and the Cast Member directed them, and the companion, all out.  The ride started, and The Lovely Steph Leann and I took our place in the Doom Buggy to join the other 999 haunts for the ride... "...but there's always room for 1,000... any volunteers?  Mwah hah hahah!!"

THE SOARIN' SNAFU

We rode a few other things that night, and headed back to our room before it got way late... of course, that still means we didn't get back to the room until 1ish, maybe after, but it that was early for Disney.   We agreed to meet early to get to Epcot the next morning, and we did so.  The Lovely Steph Leann and I, with Mama Ruthless and Big Daddy Ron all got in line--which was weird, as I was so used to the Cast Member entrance, and this time I was coming in with the common folk, but we got in.

Like all the other parks, at opening, Epcot will let you in just so far before you can't go any further.  Epcot gets you in the gate around 15 til opening, and you can move up and past Spaceship Earth (the big ball) until you are stopped by a rope going across the courtyard.  At opening, they drop this rope and 99.8% of people either go right to The Land and get Fast Passes for, and/or ride, Soarin', or they go left and get Fast Passes for, and/or ride, Test Track. 

Not our Fastpasses, but you get the drift

My particular plan of attack is Soarin' first.  Get Fast Passes, ride it, then afterwards, trek across the Future World, get Fast Passes for Test Track as soon as they are available to you (when you get a Fast Pass, which allows you to come back and ride an attraction at a later time, with usually a much shorter line, but you when you get one, you can't get another one for at least another hour).  After I get the Test Track Fast Pass, we'll do Mission: Space, Ellen's Energy Adventure and so on.  And so, like usual, I'm the fastest, or at least the one not bothered by weaving in and out of old people trying to run me over in motor carts and stroller moms and small kids who aren't watching where they are stumbling, holding hands by parents who aren't paying attention.

I grabbed tickets from The Lovely Steph Leann, Mama Ruthless and Big Daddy Ron, and when the rope dropped, I was off.  My instructions to The Lovely Steph Leann were, "Wait for me at the entrance of the ride..." and I was on my quick way.  Got in line for Fast Passes--by the way, that hill leading up to The Land is just killer on the calves when you are trying to walk fast--and noticed a member of an Internationalis Groupus at the head of one of the other Fast Pass lines with a fat stack of tickets.  I got behind about four people, with the person up front having problems with the machine.  The Cast Member looked at it, then suddenly declared it to be closed, so our five or six person line quickly dispersed to other lines.  I was now about 9 people back.  The Internationalis Groupus was still at the head of his line, getting Fast Passes.

(by the way, I just figured out its "Fastpass", not "Fast Pass", so mock me if you must, but I'm not going to go back and change it all...)

It went quickly, and I got to the front of the line, and got my Fastpasses, walking away.  Walking past Internationalis Groupus, who now had a Cast Member with him to just count out the ones he needed.  All the other people behind him had already drawn out a map of how they were going to kill him and where they were going to bury him.

I stood in front of Soarin'.  And waited.  And waited.  Fastpasses in hand, I waited.  I called The Lovely Steph Leann, who rarely answers her phone anyway, and wasn't surprised when she had no answer.  I called Big Daddy Ron, who answered, and said, "We're under the Soarin' mural".  I hung up and thought, "Oh, they are in the building!" and though I couldn't place where the mural along the path of coming through the doors, walking around, and coming down the escalators, I waited, watching the steps.   Nothing.  No one that I knew.

So, I got in line.  Perhaps they were waiting for me.  I didn't want to be one of those guys who traverse the line, skipping past people, trying to find my party, especially if I couldn't find them... and as I went deeper and deeper in the line, I realized they weren't there.  I was a bit frustrated (ask The Lovely Steph Leann and she'd say, "oh, alot") and towards the end, I got out of line and headed to the front lobby, figuring I would find them at some point.  I thought they might have ridden it, and have expected me to do so, but I also thought that if I had not waited long enough and had gone on ahead, The Lovely Steph Leann would be The Unhappy But Still Lovely Steph Leann... that in mind, I went to the lobby... and saw she, Mama Ruthless and Big Daddy Ron there.

"Did you ride it?" The Lovely Steph Leann said with a smile.

"Uh... no, I was waiting for you," I replied, and her face dropped.  She knew there had been a misfire somewhere, and she knew I was really disappointed that I didn't get to ride it with her.  So, she and I agreed to ride it again, while the In-Laws walked around and did some other stuff. 

Yeah, I was unhappy for a little while, but like any other time I get frustrated, give me a few minutes and I'm fine.  To her credit, The Lovely Steph Leann was wonderful, being very apologetic, and just letting me brood for a little while without trying to "fix it".  I snapped out of it, and we had a great time on the ride.

This was a snafu.  Wait til you hear the Toy Story Madness.