Weekend At Walt’s
I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving. For the first time in about a decade I broke with tradition. Ever since I was in college when a bunch of us decided that it was madness to travel home on the busiest weekend of the year to eat a giant meal with relatives we didn’t really like we’ve been throwing the Thanksgiving Day Massacre.
The specifics of the get-together seemed to change every year, as we moved around as students, as parents demanded we come home or tuition would be withheld, etc. But generally there was a core group of friends, and a constantly changing cast of other people who came and went. Eventually girlfriends were added, then wives, and now children, and in many cases the very same family members that we were in no great rush to see before Christmas back when we were in college. Several years ago it was unofficially decided that my friends Aidan and Julie would pretty much forever be the hosts of this multi-family/friends group get-together thing. Mostly because Aidan is the best cook any of us know, and each year he somehow managed to get 6 cubic feet of butter onto the table disguised as yams, turkey, mashed potatoes, and gravy.
In the past year I haven’t seen much of my old friends. Things are crazy for them at work, two couples just had new babies, I’ve been busy with work, I seem to spend more time sitting in airplanes than doing anything else these days, and then Dorinda’s gall bladder thing happened. Basically, being an adult means you have very little free time. Unless you are one of those perpetual adolescent, in which case I envy you’re carefree lifestyle, and pity you, for you are irrelevant to the Human Species. Most of us though are busy in ways that make us cry with laughter when we think about how “busy” we thought we were back in college. Ah, to be young and clueless again. (Instead of middle-aged and clueless now.)
Point is, I was really looking forward to this. So you’d think I’d learn by now what that means . . .
Instead I spent Thanksgiving weekend in Florida, and no, not visiting Brian, even though he was less than an hour away from us. Because hanging out with Brian would have been doing something that I wanted to do. And we can’t have that.
Despite not doing a damn thing that I wanted to do for Thanksgiving, I still had a great time.
My sister-in-law’s boyfriend has a house outside of Orlando that he bought with a friend. As a sort of pre-Christmas Christmas present the S.I.L. thought it would be awesome to take the Widget to Disney World. I too thought this would be awesome, at least until I realized that I would be going along too. There are few things I dislike more than Walt Disney. Nazis, Child molesters. Nazis child molesters. And that’s about all that comes to mind. I could go into great detail about why I dislike the personal (maybe public is a better word) outlook of the Walt, and my creative issues with the corporate entity of Disney, but that’s probably best saved for a different blog because it would take a long, long time to explain.
Now, once I got past the notion that I would be going to Disney, and I would be damn sure to act appropriately excited about it, I had to come to grips with something else that drives me insane; my long-held belief that only college students, the criminally insane, and morons travel on Thanksgiving weekend. ESPECIALLY by air. And now you can add me to that list, though probably not in my own separate category. I think i fit nicely into two of the three options presented just a few short sentences ago.
So what the hell was I thinking? I’ll tell you what. I was thinking that I really kind of like the S.I.L., and her boyfriend. The S.I.L.’s ex-husband gave me the fucking creeps, and I pretty much hated him and his Uncle Touchy mustache the moment I met him several years ago. BF Glen, on the other hand, I instantly liked. He’s funny as hell, kind, and just fun to be around. Like me, he takes great joy in razzing the shit out of women with the maiden name of Foley. So despite what can only be called a generation gap, and despite the fact that’s he’s a Type-A sports guy, and I’m a Type-B art fag, I really enjoy spending time with the man.
So the five of us did Magic Kingdom on Friday (the updated Pirates of The Caribbean is kind of fucked up btw, and Small World is just as PSYCHOTIC as I remembered it being), hit the beach and saw some totally rad manatees on Saturday, and flew home last night.
It was a really great trip. The Widget’s mind was blown when we drove up to Magic Kingdom (because we never told her we were going). Dorinda got pushed around in a wheelchair and got to enjoy one more weekend of fun before heading back to that gaggle of assholes that she works with, and despite myself, I had a fun time too.
Two things of note before I go. Magic Kingdom. It doesn’t have many rides. Each section of the park had half a dozen shops and eateries for every ride you might think about going on. Not surprising, but certainly interesting.
Secondly, hey Florida, just so you know, This is pretty much the definition of bad taste.
Now one of our Ryans called me out a few weeks ago for my constant bad mouthing of religious people and Republicans. And he was correct. I do do this. I don’t have a good reason for doing this. The simple truth of it is that I have sunk to the level of the assholes that for many years were the people that I had the most contact with on a daily basis. And now I’m a hateful asshole too. Because I’ve discovered two interesting things; First, it requires no thinking or empathy or effort of any sort on my end. And secondly, its fun in a very small, self-destructive, and petty way.
Intelligent, adult, debate, on the other hand, requires a lot of work, and a ton of patience.
I’m not quite sure where I’m going with this. It’s just something that I’ve been thinking about lately. Bumper stickers too -mostly about how political bumper stickers of any sort allow me to instantly form an opinion of someone without even having a clue who they really are. Fuck, for all I know the car is borrowed or stolen, so my desire to taint punch/embrace the driver might be totally off mark.
Anyway, steering back on course. . . The Holy Land theme park. While I am seriously reviewing how I interact with people I disagree with, I am as committed as ever to pointing and laughing at shit that I find humorous, stupid, or both. Am I correct in assuming that we all, from Left and Right, Believer and Non-believer, can come together in agreeing that this is possible one of the tackiest things on the East Coast? I mean, it’s no Dinosaur Adventure Land, but lets be honest; not many can claim to be in the same league as D.A.L.
Oh yeah yeah! last note. East Coast surfers! OMG ROTFLMAO. Please. Just give it up. I’m embarrassed for you. Either move to the West Coast where they have these things called “waves”, or buy a fucking skateboard. It’s just sad . . .
RANDOM SPLENDOR
