one last ting. Yeah tigger, you can just about walk to Midway for the SW Airlines tiks. And we want to go in May. Gotta plan it, book it, right now, but we can't, cuz work has gotten worse.
I had a strange thought driving in this morning to Bellwood.
This is unusual in that I usually don't have any thoughts at all at 5 in the morning.
But this morning, I did.
Do you know what a spoonerism is? It was named after a guy named Spooner, who used to mix up letters or syllables in words when he talked.
For example, ,,,,, too many martinis,,, would come out ,,,, tee many martoonis. Or,,,, Rush Limbaugh would be Lush Rimbaugh.
Now, with that in mind, what in the world did Brad and Angelina have to drink when they named the baby Shiloh Pitt? Just wondering.
And back on the plane, what was I thinking by not asking for some xanax?
I"m reading the AA magazine Diane handed me. Trying, really trying to concentrate on it.
There is a "Mensa" quiz in there. You know, for people with high IQ's.
12 questions. I got six before I didn't want to think that hard anymore, and gave up.
Guess that makes me a " half wit."
Smidgy finally says " Shouldn't we be going by now? What's holding us up.?"
And I crack.
Didn't take much, about 15 minutes. But, no, I'm not taking the bullet here by myself. She's coming with me.
me: did you see the pilot?
her: no, why?
me: I did.
her: so?
me: you don't wanna know
her: what?
her: WHAT?
me: he's old, really old, older than dirt.
her: Oh, you met him did you?
me: no, not personally, but I saw him, that was enough.
" So, your telling me we have a distinguished looking gentleman flying our plane, that's great. What's wrong with that?"
" I didn't say "distinguished" I said OLD."
" Hey, don't put your paranoia on me , too."
" I"m not, but we're not talking Lorne Green, or Henry Fonda distinguished here." " Think more like Burgess Meredith in Grumpy Old Men.
"Thanks, just sit there for now, ok?"
I sit there.
Five more minutes go by.
She finally says, " Do you know why we aren't leaving yet?"
I stick my face in the window.
" I think the "Captain" is walking around the jet, looking for a prop he can yank on to start it."
her: WILL YOU SHUT UP?
See, I told you someone was going to yell at me before we got to Orlando.
And we haven't even left the ground yet.
Finally, the flight attendent instructs how in case of emergency, how to bend over and kiss our,,,,,,,, well, anyway,
we start moving. And we're just "driving" along. And driving. For about ten minutes. And driving. I'm starting to think that we are still going to drive to Florida, only with about 150 of our closest friends too.
Finally we stop.
Again.
Diane asks. " Know why we stopped?"
Got my face to the window.
" Not sure, I think we got caught by a freight train."
We finally take off, and I'm ok till we hit the clouds.
Cuz you can't see anything in the clouds. And when you can't see anything, people run into each other.
Then, we are through the clouds. No more rain, just sunny. Did you know it was sunny on the other side of the clouds? Just wondering.
I'm a bit more relaxed now. The clouds look so puffy, looks like you can walk on them, like a big puffy bed.
AAAAHHH!
Little Jimmy didn't think it was so cool though.
Nope, not at all. He was about 2 rows up on the right, had his own car seat bolted into the regular seat, and wanted to run around.
When he found out he couldn't do what he wanted, he ran his vocal chords around. And screamed. And screamed. And screamed. He would stop for about 5 minutes, inbetween catching his breath, then let loose again.
I was all for letting him run around on the wing by that time.
And all I heard from the parents was "Jimmy, stop that." " No, Jimmy."
In that order.
Always.
And I'm hoping, maybe they aren't going to Disney.
Yeah right.
My luck, they are not only going to Disney, they are staying at Pop too.
And can't wait to reunite with us on the Magical Express bus.
Well, that old fart did an excellent job of flying the plane. I know because we got there alive.
And I didn't have a pet gator with me.
Or soccer player.
She breathed a sigh of relief when we landed, I was running around hugging anybody I could find and inviting them to spend Thanksgiving with us.
Yes! A monorail ride to the airport central. Down the escalator, and over to the magical express lines.
We are told to get in the center of 3 lines. No, now there are four lines. No, now 5.
hmm
Last time we did this, we just kinda walked through, and they told us which but we needed to be on.
In about ten minutes.
That gave me a chance to have 2 cigarettes.
At once.
Not this time though.
Too crowded, can't leave the line.
Of course, the other lines were called first. Finally , ours. I was worried because there was about 30 people in front of us, and then 30 behind us.
No smoke for you.
About 20 minutes later, we were on our way.
And yes, I looked.
No little Jimmy.
Yeah, figures, they are probably at the Poly or Grand Floridian, by limo no less.
As we get closer, my excitement picks up. Yes!, it still happens, I don't care how old you are or how many times you've been there, when you start seeing the purple signs, all stoicism and dignity are out the window. We are one of the first off the bus, and running to "check-in". Again, no time for that smoke. I think that what's coming is why the first trip down there was so special. You didn't know what could happen at check-in, and you took anything they gave you, and were happy. Ah for the young and uninformed days to be back.
And when smokers were'nt such pariahs.
Yes, we saw there was a smoking section in the sixties, which is also a preferred room. ( costs extra). And we ordered a fridge to boot. (costs extra). It was still way cheaper than a moderate resort.
Now, we had just stayed here back in may for 3 days, a smoking room in the fifties with a lovely view of license plates from around the world. I'm still wondering about that car from England.
Anyway, I knew, from Passporter guide, there is smoking rooms in the sixties.
And the sixties has no parking lot views.
Yep. That's what we ordered.
It seems that since we reserved, they have made a corner of the fifties, and seventies, preferred rooms. And the fifties is the smoking section rooms.
So of course she tried to put us back in the fifties, where we were in the spring.
On the 4th floor .
If it sounds like we are being confrontational, hang on.
You see, if you are in the "preferred section" of the fifties, in order to go anywhere, you will have to walk down the stairs at the end of the building, or walk up for that matter, or walk over to the center of the building where the elevator is. And if you do that, which I guarantee you will if you are on the 4th floor, you are not in the "preferred section" , that you are paying extra anymore is. Catch my drift? So, she wanted us to pay extra for the worst room view in the resort, that we had back in May.
Nope.
Diane pulls out the confirmation sheet, and it says, " Guaranteed smoking room in the sixties." Hands it to her.
She's still not budging. " Sorry, nothing is guaranteed."
And Diane is, "And I guarantee we are not moving, till you give us the correct room."
It's get the manager time.
She says there are no smoking rooms in the sixties. That's it. Period.
I show her the confirmation, guaranteed smoking room in the sixties. Period. Exclamation point! " You took my money, you will give us what we paid for, or you can transfer us to CBR at no price increase." Now she dissapears.
Ok, fine. You have a room, call the made and ask her to send up ashtrays.
So, we got a room, 4th floor again, and I saw it was a nonsmoking room.
But, they gave us permission. For all you non smokers out there, sorry. We would never smoke in a nonsmoking room otherwise. And what a room view it was, I will have pics up here before too long, but when you are on dial up still, it takes forever to load them into photbucket.
Hold it, before I sign off, one last look around for little Jimmy,,,,, nope, coast is clear, ok, night folks.
