Tramey
I am the Dawg... The big, bad Dawg.
- Joined
- Mar 8, 2007
- Messages
- 16
Is it time to go back yet?
So, uh, here are the links to the pre-trip slash countdown type thingy that I wrote leading up to The Trip. (I emphasize The Trip because this was the trip by which all future trips will be judged.)
Intro - Hit it like you mean it
37 Days 'til Departure... and I'm anxious.
36 Days 'til Departure... and I'm thinking.
35 Days 'til Departure... and I'm not wearing a fanny pack.
34 Days 'til Departure... and I'm losing weight.
9 Days 'til Departure... and I can almost touch it.
1.75 Days 'til Departure... and I am completely worthless.
You'll likely pick up on most of the details contained therein through the next several posts, so don't feel obligated to go view them. They are terribly boring for the most part, except for the part about crotch pockets. That, is only mostly boring.
Anyhoo...
Friday, May 25, 2007. 3:19 a.m. -- We are in the car, backing out of the garage. I awoke at 3:00 a.m. and promptly jumped into a cold shower to sober me up. It didn't really work. It just made me cold. Really cold. I throw on clothes, brush the ole teeth, and wake the Wife and help her stumble to the already-packed car. I ready the MP3 player, and away we go.
The wildfires in Southeast Georgia and Northeast Florida caused us to alter our route, but we made outstanding time just the same. US 129 to I-16 to I-95 to I-4. Really simple. We didn't have to stop until about 8:00 just before we crossed the GA-FLA line. The Chick-fil-a was a welcomed site. I love me some Chick-fil-a.
From there, we drove straight to the Animal Kingdom. We arrived around 11:20-ish, and parked in the Dinosaur lot (methinks). It was the second lot after the Unicorn, I believe. Anyway, I was kinda shocked to be parked so closely nearly two and a half hours after opening. This made me happy.
We mosey our way into the park, and head straight for Expedition: Everest. We stand in awe for a minute or two, then snag fastpasses. We headed back over to Dinosaur, and open up the Disney experience there. The wait was maybe 10-15 minutes, which was nice. The Wife had wanted to do the Primeval Whirl since she saw it on the Travel Channel special thing, so we made it our second stop. It was kinda fun... worth the five minutes we waited.
Afterwards, we decided to take in the Finding Nemo show. This was a HUGE disappointment. First, the Wife and I really enjoyed the Tarzan show with the rollerbladers, acrobats, etc. It was more entertaining. Second, the Finding Nemo movie is a weak effort in my opinion. Nemo is really popular with the Crayola demographic, but that's because they have little in terms of discernable taste. The set and costumes were really nice and well-done, but what isn't in Disney, you know? The show just lacked that certain something that would make it, well, entertaining.
This does not discourage us, however. We trudge along, ready for me to do something I regret. Enter: the Flametree Barbecue. Let me preface with this caveat - the Wife and I don't have kids, but I have spent plenty of time with children in various settings.
Okay, on with the confession. I am standing in line, minding my own business like I'm apt to do. The Wife, who would have been terribly helpful, being a media specialist and all, is off looking to secure a table for us at my suggestion. Meanwhile, a young boy, around 7 or 8 (my wife's estimate) is causing trouble. He begins by shaking the railing that separates the order line from the pick-up line. He's not just casually amusing himself. Oh, no no. He's shaking the thing as hard as he can, in what appears to be an attempt to dislodge the thing from its cement roots. And, it appears he might be victorious. Then, someone picks up their order and turns to exit. The boy is standing there with his arms holding onto each rail blocking the path, not allowing an adult holding a tray of $30 or so worth of food to exit. The adult asks to be excused, and the boy does nothing. I wait, anticipating his parents to do something like, I don't know, tell the boy to get out of the way, and... nothing happens. None of the adults standing around claim the kid, yet it seems all are staring at the little guy.
I "urge" the kid to move by giving him a subtle nudge (which, I admit, is my first no-no), and he obliges enough to allow the tray-carrying adult to pass through. Afterwards, he goes right back to shaking the heck out of the railing. Then, another order is filled, and another polite adult is awaiting an opportunity to pass through the troll's bridge. The kid stops his destruction long enough to resume his posture of blocking the way, and the adult asks politely to be excused. I "urge" him to move a little less subtly (a little bigger no-no), and the parents swoop in to bite my head off for touching little Timmy, right? No. Nothing. No adults anywhere are claiming this kid, which only adds fuel to the fire of my irritation. Not only is this kid a pain in the ***, but his parents have their heads up theirs.
When the shaking and blocking began for a third time, I flipped my lid, blew my cool, and put my hind quarters firmly on my shoulders. I yelled at the kid. The exact words? "Listen, ******, stop trying to destroy stuff." Not my proudest moment, for sure, but it was waaay nicer than what I was thinking.
This, finally, elicited a response from the child's mother. She had to ask the lady behind me if I had raised my voice at her son, to which the lady behind me sheepishly nodded. Then she directs her attention at me and says, "You don't need to raise your voice at my child. I don't appreciate it."
To wit, I retort, "Well, somebody here needs to keep him under control."
Non-attentive mom: "I keep him under control."
Me: "Yeah, you're doing a bang-up job."
Fortunately, my order comes up, I take it and leave unobstructed after the mother makes the little guy get in line with her and her polar bear for a husband (seriously, tons of white body hair hanging out of a tank top... not a picture you want to see before you eat).
The kid bothered me for sure, but what bothered me even more was the fact that his parents weren't paying any attention to the guy at all. I could have just as easily swiped him, killed him, and left him for dead in a trashcan somewhere and they'd be none the wiser.
I look back at my childhood, and my parents would have seriously frowned upon me disrespecting other adults in such a manner once, much less three times. No one would have had to yell at me because my parents would have nipped that stupid behavior in the bud shortly after it started. Of course, they gave a crap about me, and didn't want me to grow up to be Paris Hilton.
I wish I hadn't touched the kid, and especially wish I hadn't yelled at the kid, but I want all you parents out there to realize that the world does not start and stop at your kid's beckoning. The better you prepare them for a world in which people aren't always going to be bowing down for their every whim, the more functional they will be as adults. There were better ways to handle the situation, but as they say, it got handled.
The day moved along uneventfully after lunch (which was particularly scrumptious, by the way).
I'll come back to put the finishing touches on day one later.
Auf Wiedersehen.
So, uh, here are the links to the pre-trip slash countdown type thingy that I wrote leading up to The Trip. (I emphasize The Trip because this was the trip by which all future trips will be judged.)
Intro - Hit it like you mean it
37 Days 'til Departure... and I'm anxious.
36 Days 'til Departure... and I'm thinking.
35 Days 'til Departure... and I'm not wearing a fanny pack.
34 Days 'til Departure... and I'm losing weight.
9 Days 'til Departure... and I can almost touch it.
1.75 Days 'til Departure... and I am completely worthless.
You'll likely pick up on most of the details contained therein through the next several posts, so don't feel obligated to go view them. They are terribly boring for the most part, except for the part about crotch pockets. That, is only mostly boring.
Anyhoo...
Friday, May 25, 2007. 3:19 a.m. -- We are in the car, backing out of the garage. I awoke at 3:00 a.m. and promptly jumped into a cold shower to sober me up. It didn't really work. It just made me cold. Really cold. I throw on clothes, brush the ole teeth, and wake the Wife and help her stumble to the already-packed car. I ready the MP3 player, and away we go.
The wildfires in Southeast Georgia and Northeast Florida caused us to alter our route, but we made outstanding time just the same. US 129 to I-16 to I-95 to I-4. Really simple. We didn't have to stop until about 8:00 just before we crossed the GA-FLA line. The Chick-fil-a was a welcomed site. I love me some Chick-fil-a.
From there, we drove straight to the Animal Kingdom. We arrived around 11:20-ish, and parked in the Dinosaur lot (methinks). It was the second lot after the Unicorn, I believe. Anyway, I was kinda shocked to be parked so closely nearly two and a half hours after opening. This made me happy.
We mosey our way into the park, and head straight for Expedition: Everest. We stand in awe for a minute or two, then snag fastpasses. We headed back over to Dinosaur, and open up the Disney experience there. The wait was maybe 10-15 minutes, which was nice. The Wife had wanted to do the Primeval Whirl since she saw it on the Travel Channel special thing, so we made it our second stop. It was kinda fun... worth the five minutes we waited.
Afterwards, we decided to take in the Finding Nemo show. This was a HUGE disappointment. First, the Wife and I really enjoyed the Tarzan show with the rollerbladers, acrobats, etc. It was more entertaining. Second, the Finding Nemo movie is a weak effort in my opinion. Nemo is really popular with the Crayola demographic, but that's because they have little in terms of discernable taste. The set and costumes were really nice and well-done, but what isn't in Disney, you know? The show just lacked that certain something that would make it, well, entertaining.
This does not discourage us, however. We trudge along, ready for me to do something I regret. Enter: the Flametree Barbecue. Let me preface with this caveat - the Wife and I don't have kids, but I have spent plenty of time with children in various settings.
Okay, on with the confession. I am standing in line, minding my own business like I'm apt to do. The Wife, who would have been terribly helpful, being a media specialist and all, is off looking to secure a table for us at my suggestion. Meanwhile, a young boy, around 7 or 8 (my wife's estimate) is causing trouble. He begins by shaking the railing that separates the order line from the pick-up line. He's not just casually amusing himself. Oh, no no. He's shaking the thing as hard as he can, in what appears to be an attempt to dislodge the thing from its cement roots. And, it appears he might be victorious. Then, someone picks up their order and turns to exit. The boy is standing there with his arms holding onto each rail blocking the path, not allowing an adult holding a tray of $30 or so worth of food to exit. The adult asks to be excused, and the boy does nothing. I wait, anticipating his parents to do something like, I don't know, tell the boy to get out of the way, and... nothing happens. None of the adults standing around claim the kid, yet it seems all are staring at the little guy.
I "urge" the kid to move by giving him a subtle nudge (which, I admit, is my first no-no), and he obliges enough to allow the tray-carrying adult to pass through. Afterwards, he goes right back to shaking the heck out of the railing. Then, another order is filled, and another polite adult is awaiting an opportunity to pass through the troll's bridge. The kid stops his destruction long enough to resume his posture of blocking the way, and the adult asks politely to be excused. I "urge" him to move a little less subtly (a little bigger no-no), and the parents swoop in to bite my head off for touching little Timmy, right? No. Nothing. No adults anywhere are claiming this kid, which only adds fuel to the fire of my irritation. Not only is this kid a pain in the ***, but his parents have their heads up theirs.
When the shaking and blocking began for a third time, I flipped my lid, blew my cool, and put my hind quarters firmly on my shoulders. I yelled at the kid. The exact words? "Listen, ******, stop trying to destroy stuff." Not my proudest moment, for sure, but it was waaay nicer than what I was thinking.
This, finally, elicited a response from the child's mother. She had to ask the lady behind me if I had raised my voice at her son, to which the lady behind me sheepishly nodded. Then she directs her attention at me and says, "You don't need to raise your voice at my child. I don't appreciate it."
To wit, I retort, "Well, somebody here needs to keep him under control."
Non-attentive mom: "I keep him under control."
Me: "Yeah, you're doing a bang-up job."
Fortunately, my order comes up, I take it and leave unobstructed after the mother makes the little guy get in line with her and her polar bear for a husband (seriously, tons of white body hair hanging out of a tank top... not a picture you want to see before you eat).
The kid bothered me for sure, but what bothered me even more was the fact that his parents weren't paying any attention to the guy at all. I could have just as easily swiped him, killed him, and left him for dead in a trashcan somewhere and they'd be none the wiser.
I look back at my childhood, and my parents would have seriously frowned upon me disrespecting other adults in such a manner once, much less three times. No one would have had to yell at me because my parents would have nipped that stupid behavior in the bud shortly after it started. Of course, they gave a crap about me, and didn't want me to grow up to be Paris Hilton.
I wish I hadn't touched the kid, and especially wish I hadn't yelled at the kid, but I want all you parents out there to realize that the world does not start and stop at your kid's beckoning. The better you prepare them for a world in which people aren't always going to be bowing down for their every whim, the more functional they will be as adults. There were better ways to handle the situation, but as they say, it got handled.
The day moved along uneventfully after lunch (which was particularly scrumptious, by the way).
I'll come back to put the finishing touches on day one later.
Auf Wiedersehen.