Howdy-ho, Adventurers! It's so wonderful to "see" all of you again! We are about to embark on an exciting adventure, as seen through the eyes of yours truly, Nate (Aerobics). Most of you probably know me from my last excursion to Walt Disney World in September 2000, chronicled in the (now apparently infamous) NASTEE Report. Motivated not only by popular demand, but also by my own desire to share with you my wacky experiences (and resulting warped outlook on WDW), I present to you:
Nate Goes Cuckoo With The Cru Crew!!!
First, a little background on how this trip was even begotten. As you might recall, last November, I left my partner of 4.5 years, Spencer--it was probably one of the most difficult (and consequently monumental) decisions in my 25 years of existence. Thanksgiving and Christmas 2000 were exceedingly difficult for me; however, throughout the hard times, Joanne (Cruella) and Tim (WildForWD) warmly accepted me as their long-lost "cyber son". The bond we had formed after having met last September at the PassPorter Gathering (also chronicled in the NASTEE) was strengthened and solidified as we began to see more of each other online at the weekly PassPorter trivia games (which still continue to be a blast--mucho thanks and extra snaps for Brant (Jose Carioca) for consistently hosting such a fantastic "escape" for the rest of us!).
When word of a possible PassPorter gathering in December 2001 began to circulate among the moderators, I already knew that I would be going. I had always wanted to see WDW during the holidays--having the opportunity to add the wonderful experience of fellowship with fellow PassPorter Adventurers only intensified my interest. Not long after, Cruella and Tim approached me about possibly vacationing together--I was absolutely tickled! Realizing that it might get awfully lonely staying solo in my own Princess' suite (
) at the Grand Floridian, I immediately accepted.
The rest, as some might say, is history...
Disclaimer--Having been tasked with writing the trip report, I must confess that I have not been given carte-blanche as far as details and story-telling are concerned. Au contraire, Cruella will always be a few steps behind me, basically contradicting and refuting any potentially damaging information that I might share with you. But, in all seriousness, keep your eyes open for some clarifications and "add-ons" from Cruella, as there will be times in the report where it will be nice to get another viewpoint on events (such as the now infamous "Just one more time" episode on Kali River Rapids. 
)
November 30, 2001--My Journey: I Think I'll Pass On Pittsburgh, Thanks!
I truly believe that there is an inverse relationship between how much time is left before you head to the airport and the number of stupid tasks that are requested and/or required of you at the office. Knowing that I needed to be out of the office by 4:00 p.m., I was not the least bit surprised when, at 2:30 p.m., a colleague shows up in my cube requesting my assistance in completing a project due to a client by 5:00 p.m. that evening (as if the dumb client will do anything with a report on a Friday night!
).
2 hours later (and quite possibly accompanied by a few gray hairs), I caught the Blue line Metro and was on my merry way to Reagan National Airport. Not having flown since 09.11.2001, I was not sure what, if any, extra searches of my luggage and/or person would be necessary. After waiting in line for about 45 minutes, I was off to the main security checkpoint. As I walked through the metal detector, I listened closely, but heard no beeps, boops, or blings, so I continued on to pick up my belongings.
The man in front of me had been stopped to be "wanded"--figuring that the same would be required of me, I waited...and waited...and waited. Finally, the man in front of me was finished; however, the employee in charge of wanding either didn't notice me or didn't seem to care, so I politely asked if I needed to be scanned.
His reply: "Do you want me to?" This response caught me off guard, so I retorted with, "Umm, no, I just would rather not get shot by that National Guardsman over there for evasion of security," and walked off. As I passed by aforementioned Mr. Guardsman (that's Mr. Guardsman, sir! to you!), he informed me that, unless they specifically stop you, you can just keep walking.
Although the urge was incredibly great, thinking twice and deciding it not too prudent to offer that if he ever wanted to scan me with a wand, I'd be more than happy to oblige, I thanked him and headed off to my gate. Ladies, what is it about a man in a beret, huh? I think Mr. Wonka named a chocolate bar after the National Guardsmen--Scrumdiddlyumptious!!! (Note--I plan on interspersing throughout this report all sorts of "banter" like that in the previous few sentences. I make no apologies for my repartee, but would like to stress that I approach these reports completely tongue-in-cheek, and I hope that you will be able to see the levity in my prose. In other words, don't take me too seriously, ok?)
Comfortably settled in window seat 8A of US Airways Flight #153 to Pittsburgh, PA (yes, you read that correctly), I pulled out everyone's favorite book for light reading, The Handbook of Fixed Income Securities. Actually, I brought down one of my books for my next actuarial exam (date of impact: 05.10.2002) with the hopes that I would occasionally peek at it during the "down time". (Ha! I have yet to experience "down time" while staying at WDW!)
About 15 minutes after takeoff, I faintly heard the following words, "Coke, Diet Coke, or Sprite?" As the minutes ticked on, the voice got closer and closer (much akin to a very slowly approaching fire engine). After declining a soda and expressing to my neighbor in Seat 8B slight disappointment over the absence of good ol' H2O as a choice, I wondered aloud if that flight attendant ever got sick of repeating those same 5 words (and does she ever accidentally order all 3 beverages for herself while in line, say, at McDonalds? ).
As we approached the glorious land of Pittsburgh, my neighbor shared with me about her brother-in-law, who is also an actuary (it truly is a small world after all, since there are only like 20,000 of us in the entire world). She seemed perplexed that I should be flying to Pittsburgh on my way to Orlando.
"Honey, that makes 2 of us!" was my response. Since the terrible attacks on America disrupted the flight schedules of many airlines based in DC (at Reagan), my original non-stop to Orlando had been modified to this itinerary. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but it was a little bit cumbersome--but, I got there nonetheless, and safely, and, quite honestly, that's all that really matters.
Since I had about 90 minutes to kill while in Pittsburgh, I perused some of the stores, including everybody's favorite foo-foo shop, Bath & Body Works. For this trip, I had originally set my heart on Fresh Waterfall Mist, but since the Bath & Body Works near me had no more of the body splash, I had to settle for Sparkling Mountain Springs, which is really very nice. Well, wouldn't you know it? This B&BW had like 9 bazillion bottles of Fresh Waterfall Mist body splash...ahhh, c'est la vie. As if it's THAT big of a deal!
Feeling a bit peckish, I decided to stop in at O'Brien's Grille & Pub for a bite to eat. The hostess seated me in a booth big enough for 8 people; she must not have realized I was joking when I asked her if she had anything bigger because she flatly looked me and snottily replied, "Ummm...NO!" (And, honey, if you're out there, I know you may not think it's that big of a deal cuz you work in an airport and all, but you might want to consider investing in a toothbrush, k? K! )
My waitress, on the other hand, was an absolute dear and expressed even a bit of her own disappointment when she told me that they didn't serve cider (in a pub?!? What's up with that?). I settled for a grilled chicken and spinach salad. Now, I may be wrong, but that spinach was probably fresh at some point in time (circa 1963). And, let's discern what does and does not constitute "crumbled bacon", ok? But, hey, it was relatively cheap and really not that bad.
30 minutes later, I was sitting in aisle seat 15D of US Airways Flight #1179. Not surprisingly, there were quite a number of families (some rather extended) since this flight was indeed headed for Orlando. On this flight, I opted for crossword puzzles instead of my actuarial textbook--it was a really tough decision! (Yeah, right!)
I'm not positive, but I think that every flight has to have at least one person who cannot possibly remain seated for more than 18.7 seconds. As soon as the Fasten Seat Belts sign was turned off, this guy was just up and about, walking here and there and everywhere inbetween. His favorite place to stand was about 0.73 feet in front of me, such that his rear end was in my direct line of sight (quite frankly, it was about the only thing one could see from my vantage point)). Now, I've had situations where having one's buns in my view was actually something about which I would have no need to complain (and yes, that is foreshadowing
)--this was not one of those situations, however.
Eventually, the flight attendants came through with their snack trays (but only after asking Mr. Booty-In-My-Face 3 times to sit down); tonight's selection included approximately 3-4 ounces of your favorite bevvy along with a snack entitled "Sky Mix". They really should've called it "Salt Mix", as I think it was 2% pretzels, 1% Cheez-Its, and 97% salt. Not being one to ration my water well, I was pretty close to understanding how the contestants on Survivor must feel in the first few days when they don't have any fire with which to boil their drinking water.
To pass the time, I chatted with the couple next to me, who were on their way to a week on the Disney Cruise line. (Oh, my envy must have been so apparent!
) They were rather well versed in the ways of WDW, and the gentleman in the couple even ventured to Mouse Planet from time to time. After a quick demo of my PassPorter, we got to talking about how sometimes it's better NOT to know all the ins and outs of an attraction (yet more foreshadowing), as the experience of an attraction in and of itself is a pretty darn enjoyable event.
We were interrupted by a flight attendant on the loudspeaker, who inquired, "Does anybody have change for a $100 bill?" This struck us as incredibly hysterical, as I could just see some poor sap, wishing he were in First Class, ordering a Bloody Mary and loudly announcing to the rest of us "hoodlums" in Coach, "Oh, the smallest bill I have is a $100"--Whatever!
As the flight continued, the heating/air conditioning system began to rear its schizophrenic side(s). One minute, we were like Chilly Willy (the penguin), folding our arms across our chests to conserve body heat; the next minute, we were panting and sweating, begging for any sort of circulation that they could provide.
We finally landed around 11:15 p.m., and the excitement level within me spiked dramatically. Up until that point, it hadn't been "real enough" for me to actually grasp, but realizing that I was finally in Orlando, my heart rate accelerated as I exited the plane. All of the gates, in fact, the entire airport seemed virtually empty, but I still paused long enough to peek through the windows of the Disney Store in the main terminal (which was obviously closed by this time).
As I waited for my luggage, I placed a call into Tim, who had arrived a few hours earlier with the rest of the Cru Crew and was already resting at the resort. After I completed my call, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something sparkly and pink--answering the call of my inner diva, I simply had to investigate. The source of the sparkly pinkness were 2 Mickey-shaped antenna balls attached to springs which were, in turn, attached to a headband--the owner of said headband was a middle aged woman wearing a 100 Years of Magic pin (a pin I would learn more about later in the week) and a big grin.
She was very flattered when I asked if I could take her picture; she even pretended to pose dramatically for me, as I encouraged her to "Work it!" and "Own it!" (much to the shock of a woman nearby ). That experience helped in my transformation from the hectic city to the fantasy-world utopia that awaited me.
A few minutes later, luggage in hand (and arms, and shoulders, etc.), I headed out to wait for Tim. I watched a minivan slowly meander past which contained 3 guys, all scrutinizingly staring out of the vehicle in an attempt to locate yours truly. After a hug from Tim and an introduction to his two sons, David (Grumpy) and Andrew (Goofy), we were on our way.
Tim and I caught up on life and chatted about our respective trips; I also chatted it up with David and Andrew as we asked each other questions about favorite parks, attractions, restaurants, etc. In a seemingly incredibly short amount of time, we had arrived at the Hawthorn Suites, an off-property hotel in which we were staying for the first 4 nights of our trip, since we weren't planning on fully attacking the parks until Tuesday, 12.04.2001.
Announcing my arrival, I walked in to find Cruella and Joan (Cruella's Mom) watching TV--many hugs were administered all around and a wave of relief washed over me. After enduring so much heartache and tragedy this year, not only in our personal lives, but also as a nation and a world, it was amazingly evident how much life really means to me and how thankful and incredibly fortunate I am to have such wonderful friends in this world.
We spent the next 30 minutes or so catching up, but it was obvious that we were all rather exhausted from our respective trips, so we eventually hit the sheets around 12:30 a.m. Besides, we needed all of the rest and reserve we could get because, from this point forward, we knew we would be going non-stop. Excitedly, I tossed and turned for awhile before finally falling asleep...
Notes from my PassPorter:
The weather was warm and humid with gray skies when we left and unseasonably warm and mild when we arrived.
The best thing about our journey was the mounting excitement as I approached Orlando.
The worst thing about our journey was flying north to go south.
The funniest thing about our journey was "Does anybody have change for a $100 bill?"
During our journey we tried O'Brien's Grille and Pub and the result was mediocre.
The most magical moment during our journey was seeing the Disney Store in the airport and realizing I was finally HERE!
Nate Goes Cuckoo With The Cru Crew!!!
First, a little background on how this trip was even begotten. As you might recall, last November, I left my partner of 4.5 years, Spencer--it was probably one of the most difficult (and consequently monumental) decisions in my 25 years of existence. Thanksgiving and Christmas 2000 were exceedingly difficult for me; however, throughout the hard times, Joanne (Cruella) and Tim (WildForWD) warmly accepted me as their long-lost "cyber son". The bond we had formed after having met last September at the PassPorter Gathering (also chronicled in the NASTEE) was strengthened and solidified as we began to see more of each other online at the weekly PassPorter trivia games (which still continue to be a blast--mucho thanks and extra snaps for Brant (Jose Carioca) for consistently hosting such a fantastic "escape" for the rest of us!).
When word of a possible PassPorter gathering in December 2001 began to circulate among the moderators, I already knew that I would be going. I had always wanted to see WDW during the holidays--having the opportunity to add the wonderful experience of fellowship with fellow PassPorter Adventurers only intensified my interest. Not long after, Cruella and Tim approached me about possibly vacationing together--I was absolutely tickled! Realizing that it might get awfully lonely staying solo in my own Princess' suite (
) at the Grand Floridian, I immediately accepted.The rest, as some might say, is history...
Disclaimer--Having been tasked with writing the trip report, I must confess that I have not been given carte-blanche as far as details and story-telling are concerned. Au contraire, Cruella will always be a few steps behind me, basically contradicting and refuting any potentially damaging information that I might share with you.
But, in all seriousness, keep your eyes open for some clarifications and "add-ons" from Cruella, as there will be times in the report where it will be nice to get another viewpoint on events (such as the now infamous "Just one more time" episode on Kali River Rapids. )November 30, 2001--My Journey: I Think I'll Pass On Pittsburgh, Thanks!
I truly believe that there is an inverse relationship between how much time is left before you head to the airport and the number of stupid tasks that are requested and/or required of you at the office. Knowing that I needed to be out of the office by 4:00 p.m., I was not the least bit surprised when, at 2:30 p.m., a colleague shows up in my cube requesting my assistance in completing a project due to a client by 5:00 p.m. that evening (as if the dumb client will do anything with a report on a Friday night!
).2 hours later (and quite possibly accompanied by a few gray hairs), I caught the Blue line Metro and was on my merry
way to Reagan National Airport. Not having flown since 09.11.2001, I was not sure what, if any, extra searches of my luggage and/or person would be necessary. After waiting in line for about 45 minutes, I was off to the main security checkpoint. As I walked through the metal detector, I listened closely, but heard no beeps, boops, or blings, so I continued on to pick up my belongings.The man in front of me had been stopped to be "wanded"--figuring that the same would be required of me, I waited...and waited...and waited. Finally, the man in front of me was finished; however, the employee in charge of wanding either didn't notice me or didn't seem to care, so I politely asked if I needed to be scanned.
His reply: "Do you want me to?" This response caught me off guard, so I retorted with, "Umm, no, I just would rather not get shot by that National Guardsman over there for evasion of security," and walked off. As I passed by aforementioned Mr. Guardsman (that's Mr. Guardsman, sir! to you!), he informed me that, unless they specifically stop you, you can just keep walking.
Although the urge was incredibly great, thinking twice and deciding it not too prudent to offer that if he ever wanted to scan me with a wand, I'd be more than happy to oblige, I thanked him and headed off to my gate. Ladies, what is it about a man in a beret, huh? I think Mr. Wonka named a chocolate bar after the National Guardsmen--Scrumdiddlyumptious!!! (Note--I plan on interspersing throughout this report all sorts of "banter" like that in the previous few sentences. I make no apologies for my repartee, but would like to stress that I approach these reports completely tongue-in-cheek, and I hope that you will be able to see the levity in my prose. In other words, don't take me too seriously, ok?)
Comfortably settled in window seat 8A of US Airways Flight #153 to Pittsburgh, PA (yes, you read that correctly), I pulled out everyone's favorite book for light reading, The Handbook of Fixed Income Securities. Actually, I brought down one of my books for my next actuarial exam (date of impact: 05.10.2002) with the hopes that I would occasionally peek at it during the "down time". (Ha! I have yet to experience "down time" while staying at WDW!)
About 15 minutes after takeoff, I faintly heard the following words, "Coke, Diet Coke, or Sprite?" As the minutes ticked on, the voice got closer and closer (much akin to a very slowly approaching fire engine). After declining a soda and expressing to my neighbor in Seat 8B slight disappointment over the absence of good ol' H2O as a choice, I wondered aloud if that flight attendant ever got sick of repeating those same 5 words (and does she ever accidentally order all 3 beverages for herself while in line, say, at McDonalds?
).As we approached the glorious land of Pittsburgh, my neighbor shared with me about her brother-in-law, who is also an actuary (it truly is a small world after all, since there are only like 20,000 of us in the entire world). She seemed perplexed that I should be flying to Pittsburgh on my way to Orlando.
"Honey, that makes 2 of us!" was my response.
Since the terrible attacks on America disrupted the flight schedules of many airlines based in DC (at Reagan), my original non-stop to Orlando had been modified to this itinerary. It really wasn't that big of a deal, but it was a little bit cumbersome--but, I got there nonetheless, and safely, and, quite honestly, that's all that really matters.Since I had about 90 minutes to kill while in Pittsburgh, I perused some of the stores, including everybody's favorite foo-foo shop, Bath & Body Works. For this trip, I had originally set my heart on Fresh Waterfall Mist, but since the Bath & Body Works near me had no more of the body splash, I had to settle for Sparkling Mountain Springs, which is really very nice. Well, wouldn't you know it? This B&BW had like 9 bazillion bottles of Fresh Waterfall Mist body splash...ahhh, c'est la vie. As if it's THAT big of a deal!
Feeling a bit peckish, I decided to stop in at O'Brien's Grille & Pub for a bite to eat. The hostess seated me in a booth big enough for 8 people; she must not have realized I was joking when I asked her if she had anything bigger because she flatly looked me and snottily replied, "Ummm...NO!" (And, honey, if you're out there, I know you may not think it's that big of a deal cuz you work in an airport and all, but you might want to consider investing in a toothbrush, k? K!
)My waitress, on the other hand, was an absolute dear and expressed even a bit of her own disappointment when she told me that they didn't serve cider (in a pub?!? What's up with that?). I settled for a grilled chicken and spinach salad. Now, I may be wrong, but that spinach was probably fresh at some point in time (circa 1963). And, let's discern what does and does not constitute "crumbled bacon", ok? But, hey, it was relatively cheap and really not that bad.
30 minutes later, I was sitting in aisle seat 15D of US Airways Flight #1179. Not surprisingly, there were quite a number of families (some rather extended) since this flight was indeed headed for Orlando. On this flight, I opted for crossword puzzles instead of my actuarial textbook--it was a really tough decision! (Yeah, right!)
I'm not positive, but I think that every flight has to have at least one person who cannot possibly remain seated for more than 18.7 seconds. As soon as the Fasten Seat Belts sign was turned off, this guy was just up and about, walking here and there and everywhere inbetween. His favorite place to stand was about 0.73 feet in front of me, such that his rear end was in my direct line of sight (quite frankly, it was about the only thing one could see from my vantage point)). Now, I've had situations where having one's buns in my view was actually something about which I would have no need to complain (and yes, that is foreshadowing
)--this was not one of those situations, however.Eventually, the flight attendants came through with their snack trays (but only after asking Mr. Booty-In-My-Face 3 times to sit down); tonight's selection included approximately 3-4 ounces of your favorite bevvy along with a snack entitled "Sky Mix". They really should've called it "Salt Mix", as I think it was 2% pretzels, 1% Cheez-Its, and 97% salt. Not being one to ration my water well, I was pretty close to understanding how the contestants on Survivor must feel in the first few days when they don't have any fire with which to boil their drinking water.
To pass the time, I chatted with the couple next to me, who were on their way to a week on the Disney Cruise line. (Oh, my envy must have been so apparent!
) They were rather well versed in the ways of WDW, and the gentleman in the couple even ventured to Mouse Planet from time to time. After a quick demo of my PassPorter, we got to talking about how sometimes it's better NOT to know all the ins and outs of an attraction (yet more foreshadowing), as the experience of an attraction in and of itself is a pretty darn enjoyable event.We were interrupted by a flight attendant on the loudspeaker, who inquired, "Does anybody have change for a $100 bill?" This struck us as incredibly hysterical, as I could just see some poor sap, wishing he were in First Class, ordering a Bloody Mary and loudly announcing to the rest of us "hoodlums" in Coach, "Oh, the smallest bill I have is a $100"--Whatever!
As the flight continued, the heating/air conditioning system began to rear its schizophrenic side(s). One minute, we were like Chilly Willy (the penguin), folding our arms across our chests to conserve body heat; the next minute, we were panting and sweating, begging for any sort of circulation that they could provide.
We finally landed around 11:15 p.m., and the excitement level within me spiked dramatically. Up until that point, it hadn't been "real enough" for me to actually grasp, but realizing that I was finally in Orlando, my heart rate accelerated as I exited the plane. All of the gates, in fact, the entire airport seemed virtually empty, but I still paused long enough to peek through the windows of the Disney Store in the main terminal (which was obviously closed by this time).
As I waited for my luggage, I placed a call into Tim, who had arrived a few hours earlier with the rest of the Cru Crew and was already resting at the resort. After I completed my call, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed something sparkly and pink--answering the call of my inner diva, I simply had to investigate. The source of the sparkly pinkness were 2 Mickey-shaped antenna balls attached to springs which were, in turn, attached to a headband--the owner of said headband was a middle aged woman wearing a 100 Years of Magic pin (a pin I would learn more about later in the week) and a big grin.
She was very flattered when I asked if I could take her picture; she even pretended to pose dramatically for me, as I encouraged her to "Work it!" and "Own it!" (much to the shock of a woman nearby
). That experience helped in my transformation from the hectic city to the fantasy-world utopia that awaited me.A few minutes later, luggage in hand (and arms, and shoulders, etc.), I headed out to wait for Tim. I watched a minivan slowly meander past which contained 3 guys, all scrutinizingly staring out of the vehicle in an attempt to locate yours truly. After a hug from Tim and an introduction to his two sons, David (Grumpy) and Andrew (Goofy), we were on our way.
Tim and I caught up on life and chatted about our respective trips; I also chatted it up with David and Andrew as we asked each other questions about favorite parks, attractions, restaurants, etc. In a seemingly incredibly short amount of time, we had arrived at the Hawthorn Suites, an off-property hotel in which we were staying for the first 4 nights of our trip, since we weren't planning on fully attacking the parks until Tuesday, 12.04.2001.
Announcing my arrival, I walked in to find Cruella and Joan (Cruella's Mom) watching TV--many hugs were administered all around and a wave of relief washed over me. After enduring so much heartache and tragedy this year, not only in our personal lives, but also as a nation and a world, it was amazingly evident how much life really means to me and how thankful and incredibly fortunate I am to have such wonderful friends in this world.
We spent the next 30 minutes or so catching up, but it was obvious that we were all rather exhausted from our respective trips, so we eventually hit the sheets around 12:30 a.m. Besides, we needed all of the rest and reserve we could get because, from this point forward, we knew we would be going non-stop. Excitedly, I tossed and turned for awhile before finally falling asleep...
Notes from my PassPorter:
The weather was warm and humid with gray skies when we left and unseasonably warm and mild when we arrived.
The best thing about our journey was the mounting excitement as I approached Orlando.
The worst thing about our journey was flying north to go south.
The funniest thing about our journey was "Does anybody have change for a $100 bill?"
During our journey we tried O'Brien's Grille and Pub and the result was mediocre.
The most magical moment during our journey was seeing the Disney Store in the airport and realizing I was finally HERE!
But, it certainly didn't stop Cruella and I from debating which bevvy we thought would best go with our journey down the river o' laziness.
Remind me sometime to tell you all about Nathan (No, not me! HIM!!! Isn't that freakin' hysterical that we have the same name??? Hee hee!)
)
