A Vacation From My Problems (A Sept. 2010 Trip Report) - COMPLETED 12/14

[FreezinRafiki]

Besides, if I really wanted to put a quote in that earlier response, I would have said: Sell crazy someplace else. We're all stocked up here.

As Good As it Gets

 

[trennr]

Sell crazy someplace else. We're all stocked up here.

As Good as it Gets

Kiss my Beverly Frozen Monkey!

 

[that's nice]

I'm really going to pitch a fit if you guys get down to quoting "the" and trying to put it in a movie.

Besides, if I really wanted to put a quote in that earlier response, I would have said: Sell crazy someplace else. We're all stocked up here.

As Good As it Gets

As Good as it Gets

Kiss my Beverly Frozen Monkey!

What do you guys do... coordinate a time to come on here to get all the movie quotes?

 

[FreezinRafiki]

As Good as it Gets

Kiss my Beverly Frozen Monkey!

Beat you by 2 minutes Corn Fuzz!

What do you guys do... coordinate a time to come on here to get all the movie quotes?

Tim, I approach this like I do everything in my life. Guided by pure, dumb luck.

 

[trennr]

What do you guys do... coordinate a time to come on here to get all the movie quotes?

I just happened to be looking at my E-mail...knew the quote...and who said it...Jack...btu could not actually remember the name of the Movie...had to look that up...that was enough time for your Nemisis to beat me.

 

[that's nice]

Tim, I approach this like I do everything in my life. Guided by pure, dumb luck.

I might need to borrow some of that dumb luck!!!!!

 

[that's nice]

I just happened to be looking at my E-mail...knew the quote...and who said it...Jack...btu could not actually remember the name of the Movie...had to look that up...that was enough time for your Nemisis to beat me.

Ohhhh so that is how you do it- have the updates sent to your email.

Und genius!

 

[Captain_Oblivious]

As Good As it Gets

+1

Man, Marv is gonna be angry at you.

As Good as it Gets

Kiss my Beverly Frozen Monkey!

Love the creative profanity.

Tim, I approach this like I do everything in my life. Guided by pure, dumb luck.

That's beautiful.

Ohhhh so that is how you do it- have the updates sent to your email.

Und genius!

Uh oh. Now Tim knows your secrets...

 

[KatMark]

What do you guys do... coordinate a time to come on here to get all the movie quotes?

I think they do...that's why I don't even bother trying.

 

[Captain_Oblivious]

Current Standings After 12 Entries

Glennbo123 16
Trennr 13
FreezinRafiki 12.5
MissLiz 5
That's Nice 5
Mom3sonstt 5
Afwdwfan 3.5
Melk 3
Middlepat 3
Marvali 3
Belle_princess 2
LegoMan3 1
jedijill 1
Goofy+3 1
sara98629 1*

 

[FreezinRafiki]

I might need to borrow some of that dumb luck!!!!!

There is only one way to transfer pure, dumb luck: A Surprise Slap Transfer.
It is a technique developed by the ancient masters and refined through the generations. It takes years of practice to develop the artistry needed to create the proper paranoia, shock, and brute force need to transfer dumb luck.
So, when you're walking around the Magic Kingdom in December and you think you see something peeking back out at you from a bush; or if you happen to catch a glimpse of a shadow on a wall that was not there before; or if you think one of the dancing kids in its a small world happens to resemble a chubby guy from Wisconsin: prepare yourself. You may be about to get a dose of pure, dumb luck right across your face.

 

[that's nice]

There is only one way to transfer pure, dumb luck: A Surprise Slap Transfer.
It is a technique developed by the ancient masters and refined through the generations. It takes years of practice to develop the artistry needed to create the proper paranoia, shock, and brute force need to transfer dumb luck.
So, when you're walking around the Magic Kingdom in December and you think you see something peeking back out at you from a bush; or if you happen to catch a glimpse of a shadow on a wall that was not there before; or if you think one of the dancing kids in its a small world happens to resemble a chubby guy from Wisconsin: prepare yourself. You may be about to get a dose of pure, dumb luck right across your face.

So your saying there's a chance (that I might get ambushed in the MK?) I can always use some luck but I'm not sure I want to get jumped to get it.

Man.... I better turn of the GPS on my phone or it will be easy for you to track me down. LOL

 

[PurpleTurtle]

I'm in. You're title spoke to me Love 'What About Bob'. Looking forward to reading your report.

P.S. I was born in DE (although I haven't lived there since I was 11). My whole fam. were big Phillies and Eagles fans while I was growing up.

 

[middlepat]

There is only one way to transfer pure, dumb luck: A Surprise Slap Transfer.
It is a technique developed by the ancient masters and refined through the generations. It takes years of practice to develop the artistry needed to create the proper paranoia, shock, and brute force need to transfer dumb luck.
So, when you're walking around the Magic Kingdom in December and you think you see something peeking back out at you from a bush; or if you happen to catch a glimpse of a shadow on a wall that was not there before; or if you think one of the dancing kids in its a small world happens to resemble a chubby guy from Wisconsin: prepare yourself. You may be about to get a dose of pure, dumb luck right across your face.

So your saying there's a chance (that I might get ambushed in the MK?) I can always use some luck but I'm not sure I want to get jumped to get it.

Man.... I better turn of the GPS on my phone or it will be easy for you to track me down. LOL

Don't worry there Tim, if he's still wearing that "offical DisDads sweatshirt" you'll know exactly where he's coming from.

 

[FreezinRafiki]

So your saying there's a chance (that I might get ambushed in the MK?) I can always use some luck but I'm not sure I want to get jumped to get it.

Man.... I better turn of the GPS on my phone or it will be easy for you to track me down. LOL

It may or may not transfer any dumb luck. But as the Official Nemesis of that's nice©, I feel it is my duty to track you down and slap you.

Don't worry there Tim, if he's still wearing that "offical DisDads sweatshirt" you'll know exactly where he's coming from.

Good point - I'll just have to stay downwind.

 

[Captain_Oblivious]

There is only one way to transfer pure, dumb luck: A Surprise Slap Transfer.
It is a technique developed by the ancient masters and refined through the generations. It takes years of practice to develop the artistry needed to create the proper paranoia, shock, and brute force need to transfer dumb luck.
So, when you're walking around the Magic Kingdom in December and you think you see something peeking back out at you from a bush; or if you happen to catch a glimpse of a shadow on a wall that was not there before; or if you think one of the dancing kids in its a small world happens to resemble a chubby guy from Wisconsin: prepare yourself. You may be about to get a dose of pure, dumb luck right across your face.

Please, please make sure you have your camcorder with you to capture this. Thanks!

I'm in. You're title spoke to me Love 'What About Bob'. Looking forward to reading your report.

P.S. I was born in DE (although I haven't lived there since I was 11). My whole fam. were big Phillies and Eagles fans while I was growing up.

Man! You're from DE (whereabouts? I was born in Dover but live in the Middletown area), a big Philly fan, and you love What About Bob?!

PurpleTurtle is.... the most interesting woman in the world.

Except for my wife, of course. I have to put that disclaimer in there. (Hi Honey! )

 

[glennbo123]

PurpleTurtle is.... the most interesting woman in the world.

Dos Equis commercial?

 

[All7OfUs]

Except for my wife, of course. I have to put that disclaimer in there. (Hi Honey! )

Nice recovery.

 

[Captain_Oblivious]

I rode the Tower of Terror for the first time in 2006. Why is that significant? Because I hate drops. HATE them. As much as Indiana Jones hates snakes, or kids hate vegetables. I hate the freefall sensation, feeling like I'm going to come out of the car. Since I may or may not be wimping out on ToT in 2010, I figured I'd post a write-up I did of my experience in 2006. My wife asked me to journal the trip for her scrapbook, so this comes from that journal.

Also, I didn't intentionally quote any movies when writing this up.

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We are often told that in order to truly live, we need to step out of our comfort zones from time to time. We need to take chances. Challenge ourselves. Seek new adventures. Which is how it came to be that I allowed myself to experience a 13-story drop in an elevator shaft.
4 times. But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Disney’s Hollywood Studios (formerly Disney-MGM Studios) is a theme park modeled entirely on the business of movie-making, with an eye towards the nostalgia of golden-age films. Walking through the main entrance, it feels as though you’re taking a stroll through Hollywood in the 1940’s. As with everything Disney, the attention to detail is superb.

Our friends joined us once again in the early going, and did exactly what I hoped they wouldn’t: turned right and headed straight for the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror.

Look, my friend Jay is a really nice guy. I haven’t met a single person who doesn’t like him. He’s one of those true friends you find maybe three times in your life—the kind of guy who would do anything for you, at any hour of the day, without passing judgment on you. He’s also annoyingly good at everything he does, builds his own machines, does his own house and car repairs, and runs marathons. I suddenly feel disturbingly inadequate.

Anyway, he’s also a thrill-seeker of the highest order, and will get on any amusement park ride without fear. Including the Tower of Terror. My natural reaction is to say, “More power to ya, buddy. See you when you emerge, hopefully intact.” But I didn’t count on one problem: he is raising a family of thrill-seekers. And his kids are friends with my kids.

This became an issue when Jay announced he was going on the ride, and his 8-year-old daughter, Amanda, decided to join him. This made my unsuspecting daughter, Sarah, feel safe in trying this ride (I still can’t believe she met the height requirement). Rule No. 46 in the Hairy-Chested Red-Meat-Eating Football-Loving Testosterone-Fueled Masculine Man’s Handbook clearly states that you cannot wimp out on a ride if your 4-year-old daughter and her 8-year-old friend are riding it with your buddy who will taunt you mercilessly if you bail on it. So Julie and Sarah got in line, and I reluctantly trudged through the doors behind Jay and Amanda. I tried to convince myself that maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as Splash Mountain. After all, I’d be looking out and not straight down as I fell, and not looking at the distance I have to drop might make it easier.

This is like saying holding your nose makes the lima beans taste better, only with much more danger involved.

The Disney Imagineers that designed and built this (hellish torture chamber) attraction earned their pay three times over. The level of detail and atmosphere is stunning. The building is designed as a decrepit hotel from the early 1900’s. Everywhere you look, you see what was once a gorgeous lobby in a five-diamond resort covered in dust, cobwebs and decay. Apparently, there used to be a magnetic directory where the some of the letters had fallen to the bottom to spell “Evil Tower UR Doomed”, but then some Disney uppity-up called for its removal. Now why would you take that out?

I cast a glance at Sarah, and she was doing fine thus far. A slightly sinister-looking hotel bellhop motioned us into the study for the pre-show. We wandered in, they shut the door, a huge thunderclap sounded and the room went dark.

And Sarah was now done with the ride.

The TV in the corner of the room flickered to life, and black-and-white images of Rod Serling introducing you to the Twilight Zone played across the screen. Sarah would have none of it. She grabbed Julie, holding on for dear life. Honestly, I can’t say I blame her. In retrospect, allowing a 4-year-old to walk into a ride based on the Twilight Zone may not have been my most brilliant decision.

We moved on to a basement area full of ancient elevator machinery made to look like it had seen better days. When we got to the head of the loading area, Julie asked to take Sarah out, and the cast members helpfully directed them to the bailout exit. I was secretly pleased. It was the perfect way to get out of subjecting myself to this ride. The old blame-your-kid routine. Every parent knows this trick.

Jay and Amanda stayed in line.

I was stuck. Rule 46(b) of the Handbook says that even if your daughter bails on the ride, you cannot wimp out if your buddy’s 8-year-old is riding it, or you will be subject to the merciless taunting outlined above. I hung my head, resigned to my fate.

We piled into the “elevator”, which is really an ingenious ride vehicle custom-designed by Disney. Another sinister bellhop ran down the rules about seatbelts, etc. and told us to enjoy our stay at the hotel as he stepped out. Then, just as the doors were closing, he turned and said, “Oh, one more thing, very important—”

Slam. The doors shut. Classic.

The elevator rose a few floors, and then opened to reveal a hotel hallway. As the story goes, some guests were trapped in a lightning storm in the elevator, and have been haunting the hotel ever since. We saw some lightning through the window at the end of the hallway, and then the ghosts appeared. They sang an eerie nursery rhyme, and then disappeared in a flash of more lightning. And then it got weird.

The window at the end of the hallway began to float towards us. Everything else went dark. Then, the doors closed and Mr. Serling informed us that we were now entering the Twilight Zone, and all bets were off (my paraphrase). As if to underscore this point, the doors opened and we looked out into a strange landscape of lights and stars. Then, the elevator car moved out of the shaft and into this landscape.

I gotta tell ya, the effects were amazing. Incredible imagination and thought went into this attraction. Sitting in the middle of a family-friendly theme park in Florida, I felt like I was going to die. My heart was jackhammering at about 1500 beats per minute.

Things went completely dark, the car stopped moving, and then, right on cue, the doors opened and we were looking out over the rest of the park. You know that drop is coming. Your heart is pounding, and you tense your muscles waiting for the plummet. And Disney knows you know it, so they tease you by just dropping you an inch or two at first.

I’d like to find the Imagineer who thought of that trick, and punch him in the face.

Or her. I don’t want to be discriminatory.

I barely had time to imagine that satisfaction, however, because we suddenly dropped like an anvil chasing Wile E. Coyote. Remember how I psyched myself up, saying that this drop wouldn’t feel as bad as Splash Mountain did the day before?

Well, I’m an idiot. Splash Mountain is a hammock on a Caribbean beach compared to this. I don’t know what I was expecting, but suddenly my spleen was carving a hole through my brain. The drop only lasts a couple of seconds, but the disorientation lasts longer. It subsides right about the point where you realize they’ve hoisted you back up 13 stories in the air again.
That’s right, some genius decided one drop wasn’t enough. Not only that, but he programmed the ride to be random, so you have no idea when the insanity will end.

That guy deserves a kick in the groin. And if it was a woman, well…she can have something unpleasant, too. Maybe I should just strap them to their own ride.

We hung suspended for a moment, and then dropped toward the floor again (I learned later that you are actually being pulled to the ground, making the drop even faster than the rate at which gravity would cause you to fall). Then it was back up again for two more drops—only this time, they shot us up as fast as we had fallen, giving us a brief sensation of weightlessness at the top (or more accurately, the feeling you would fly through the roof of the ride). I tried to make sure my screams were in a manly octave.

Staggering out of the car, I did a brief check to make sure my intestines and other vital organs were still inside me. We met up with the rest of the family waiting on a bench outside, and Julie asked me how it was.

Rule 83 of the Handbook requires a man to be stoic in the face of adversity, suffering silently in order to project an image of strength and safety to the family under his care.

“You would have hated it,” I said. I don’t think my voice cracked.

 

[Captain_Oblivious]

Dos Equis commercial?

Yes. But it's so obvious, I'm just giving a 1/2 point for that one.

+0.5

Nice recovery.

Hey, I may be dumb, but I'm not stupid.