doug65
Mouseketeer
- Joined
- Apr 2, 2004
- Messages
- 118
OK, its been almost a year so its time I wrote this up. Maybe itll help me deal with the fact that another trip aint in the cards for the forseeable future.
We were spending four days at Disney World over the first weekend of June. I know, not the very best time to go particularly for your first trip, but since so much of it was a gift, we could hardly complain. Whos we? you ask. OK, heres the cast list:
1. Doug thats me, the fat guy in the ridiculous hat. A newly self-actualized, Disney-Spaz-Freak who totally digs the Love ya! Mean it! thang. I was worried until I discovered the disboards and realized just how many of us goons there were. Solidarity!
2. Liz My delightful wife of 13 years. Had camped at Ft. Wilderness as a child and thought Disney would be fun, but not near the obsessive case I turned out to be.
3. Isabella Our incredibly sweet daughter, who had turned 5 the previous December. Warning: serious Princess addiction; do not expose to wands, crowns, magic coaches or castles. Tough bargainer but can be bribed, particularly if youre holding her blue bear hostage.
4. Franklin (Frank, Frankenbubba, Frankenbaby, The boy (emphasis on boy)) our son, who turned 2 the previous November and has never met anything he didnt think he could take down. Has Career in Special Forces/Underwater Demolitions encoded in his genes.
5. BIL Brother to Liz, Air Force pilot, lives in Florida.
6. SIL Wife to BIL.
7. Nephew their one-year old son
And of course, our benefactors:
8. FIL & MIL, my wifes parents who were footing the bill for the accomodations and park tickets.
And how were those accomodations, you ask? Well, they were just swell. We were ALL OF US staying in a 2bdrm Villa at the Wilderness Lodge. I had done my homework, I had seen pictures. Man, aint life rough sometimes. I was definitely looking forward to it.
So, Liz, the kids, and I set off from Ann Arbor to Detroit to catch a flight down to Florida. Detroit. Dont even ask about Detroit. Tell you what: you dont ask me about Detroit, and I wont ask you about that time in summer camp that even your therapist doesnt know about. All I can say is, if God ever decides to give the planet an enema, I know where Hes going to stick the nozzle. Detroit, ugh.
Anyhoo, were flying the eponymously named Spirit Airlines. All too appropriate because during the whole flight youre praying, Please, Lord, get us back on the ground alive and whole! I promise Ill be a better person. I mean, how many times can you hear a flight attendent say something like, You push that button one more time and Ill cut ya! before you begin to seriously question their Human Resources department?
Anyway, we made it back on the ground alive and whole, praise God, hot-patooties. As were walking through MCO, I hear someone complaining about the quality of the airport. Having just flown from Detroit on Spirit Airlines, all I can do is sneer. Wusses.
FIL picks us up at luggage claim so, no nightmare Star taxi/limo story to tell. No luggage lost, nada. Everythings peachy.
We leave MCO for the drive to Disney. The sky is overcast, leaden, and oppressive, communicating to my inner-southerner the message Whooo, boy! I wouldnt want to be caught outside in bout two or three hours. No, siree, not me! Its OK though, Ive been warned. In central FL, June is the cruelest month except of course, for July and August; oh, and parts of September.
We arrive at the WL, and of course are greeted with a hearty Welcome Home at the gate. I feel like Im going to stroke out at any moment. I caught a glimpse of the ToT as we drove by and of course the monorail, but no castle. That should be a phrase for us. Instead of Close, but no cigar, it should be Close, but no castle.
Ok, the approach to the lodge is gorgeous. The unloading-area portico is gorgeous, the parking lot is gorgeous! How the heck do you do that? Make a parking lot gorgeous. Get a grip, Doug, I tell myself. Doug answers back, You get a grip, this is fan-freakin-tastic!
We walk up to the doors which slide apart, and one of the many blessings of the south hits us full-on: 60 degree air! I grew up in Livingston, Texas (horrifyingly-depressing-place-dont-ever-visit-not-even-on-a-bet), about an hour north of Houston. Im not down on Texas as a state, but East Texas is truly a godawful place. The humidity is so high that taking a deep breath can cause drowning, damn pine trees which kill everything underneath them as far as the eye can see, the ground is nothin but clay and sand, and some of the people are as dumb as used buckshot. However, for all my loathing of all things east-texasy, I have preserved an appreciation for one thing: air-conditioning. EVERYTHING is air-conditioned in Texas; outhouses are air-conditioned, the freakin phone-booths are air-conditioned.
As I was saying, we walk into the lobby of the WL and a shiver runs down my spine. I dont know whether its the sheer, beautiful magnitude of the place or the frigid air; whatever it is I dont care.
Aaron Copeland is in my opinion, the finest, most american, American composer who ever lived. He took the American West, and scored it with God Himself. Fanfare for the Common Man is dawn first touching the coast of Maine, Appalachian Spring is mountains leaping with trees on their shoulders, and Hoedown from Rodeo may be a dance, but it is absolutely nothing if not a cowboy on a horse, racing across the plains of the great west with an approaching storm in the distance. Copeland is awesome. Hes also amazingly accessible to people who dont have much experience with classical music. Yeah, like I do.
In the lobby of the WL, none other than Copeland is playing quietly over the sound system, theres the gentle murmur of the people checking in and checking out, and I grab the kids hands and head for the geyser in the middle of the lobby. Squeals of delight erupt. Well say it was them doing the squealing, OK? The kids of course see coins in the fountain and turn pleading, manipulative eyes on their father. Digging in my pockets, I pull out change and give it to them; theyre happy. So am I. After all, to make my kids happy, the first money I spend at Disneyworld is pocket change. Life could be much worse!
We were going to buy our tickets at the customer service desk there in the lobby, but the lines are long, the staffing appears short and the CMs are slingin sweat, doing the best they can to help people. We decide that itll be fun to take the boat over to the gates of the MK to buy the tickets there later. Lets get to the room, get our suits on and check out that amazing pool before the storm hits.
We take the walkway from the WL (goodbye beautiful air-conditioning) to the lobby of the villas. Doors slide open again, and again, we get hit with the air-conditioning, only this time colder. (I could walk back and forth between those two buildings all day long. Im sick, I tell you! Sick!) Now, John Barry may not be Copeland, but hes no slouch either and he did a damn fine job scoring Dances With Wolves. Whats playing over the sound system in the Villas lobby? The Buffalo Hunt from Dances with Wolves.
We get to our Villa which is, I have to say, kinda small. Of course, that impression could have something to do with the fact that there are NINE people staying here, of which five think nothing of dropping some unwanted item out of there hand wherever they stand. Whatever, were here. We suit up and go down for a swim.
The main pool at the WL is amazing. Flat out, amazing. The slides great and the kids have a wonderful time. Of course, from every cloud must fall a little drop of rain, and there were huge clouds by this time. We eventually get rained out and go back inside.
MIL & FIL are going out to a convention dinner that night. So BIL, SIL & I decide to take to boat to the MK to get tickets before they leave. By that time, weve got a steady rain going so this is fun. I have to say, going to the main gates of the MK without going in isnt nearly as traumatizing as one might think. Particularly when its raining. Actually, it was just so much fun to be there, that having to wait until the next day was no big deal. We take the boat back and get to swing by the Contemporary (uh, no thank you) and Ft. Wilderness (no really, NO thank you!) before heading back to the WL.
Now, prior to this trip, Ive been reading the books, reading the trip reports, doing my homework, and generally obsessing like crazy over this trip. Ive charted park attendances over days, PS reservations, special events, etc. The next day is the first Saturday in June and is GayDay at the MK. We dont really care, but the news is that the park with be densely populated by 11am. So, weve decided to go to the AK first. I have put together a little report that everyone can carry with them. Ive also said numerous times that, as soon as we get through the gate, we have to head to the Kilimanjaro Safaris. Its imperative that we do so. If not, prepare to spend eternity in line, or someplace considerably warmer if I have any say. Are we all clear on this? Good.
So, MIL & FIL go out for their dinner, the kids are watching the **** toob and we order pizza. Yeah, I know. Some of the best eating in the world just outside our door, and we order pizza. What the heck, were still there. Oh, by the way, we have a balcony that looks out through the trees to the lake so we get to see the funky light pageant when it passes by, and a slice of Wishes going off. I think I'm more tired that the kids were so I turn in early to get an early start.
What the hell was I thinking?
We were spending four days at Disney World over the first weekend of June. I know, not the very best time to go particularly for your first trip, but since so much of it was a gift, we could hardly complain. Whos we? you ask. OK, heres the cast list:
1. Doug thats me, the fat guy in the ridiculous hat. A newly self-actualized, Disney-Spaz-Freak who totally digs the Love ya! Mean it! thang. I was worried until I discovered the disboards and realized just how many of us goons there were. Solidarity!
2. Liz My delightful wife of 13 years. Had camped at Ft. Wilderness as a child and thought Disney would be fun, but not near the obsessive case I turned out to be.
3. Isabella Our incredibly sweet daughter, who had turned 5 the previous December. Warning: serious Princess addiction; do not expose to wands, crowns, magic coaches or castles. Tough bargainer but can be bribed, particularly if youre holding her blue bear hostage.
4. Franklin (Frank, Frankenbubba, Frankenbaby, The boy (emphasis on boy)) our son, who turned 2 the previous November and has never met anything he didnt think he could take down. Has Career in Special Forces/Underwater Demolitions encoded in his genes.
5. BIL Brother to Liz, Air Force pilot, lives in Florida.
6. SIL Wife to BIL.
7. Nephew their one-year old son
And of course, our benefactors:
8. FIL & MIL, my wifes parents who were footing the bill for the accomodations and park tickets.
And how were those accomodations, you ask? Well, they were just swell. We were ALL OF US staying in a 2bdrm Villa at the Wilderness Lodge. I had done my homework, I had seen pictures. Man, aint life rough sometimes. I was definitely looking forward to it.
So, Liz, the kids, and I set off from Ann Arbor to Detroit to catch a flight down to Florida. Detroit. Dont even ask about Detroit. Tell you what: you dont ask me about Detroit, and I wont ask you about that time in summer camp that even your therapist doesnt know about. All I can say is, if God ever decides to give the planet an enema, I know where Hes going to stick the nozzle. Detroit, ugh.
Anyhoo, were flying the eponymously named Spirit Airlines. All too appropriate because during the whole flight youre praying, Please, Lord, get us back on the ground alive and whole! I promise Ill be a better person. I mean, how many times can you hear a flight attendent say something like, You push that button one more time and Ill cut ya! before you begin to seriously question their Human Resources department?
Anyway, we made it back on the ground alive and whole, praise God, hot-patooties. As were walking through MCO, I hear someone complaining about the quality of the airport. Having just flown from Detroit on Spirit Airlines, all I can do is sneer. Wusses.
FIL picks us up at luggage claim so, no nightmare Star taxi/limo story to tell. No luggage lost, nada. Everythings peachy.
We leave MCO for the drive to Disney. The sky is overcast, leaden, and oppressive, communicating to my inner-southerner the message Whooo, boy! I wouldnt want to be caught outside in bout two or three hours. No, siree, not me! Its OK though, Ive been warned. In central FL, June is the cruelest month except of course, for July and August; oh, and parts of September.
We arrive at the WL, and of course are greeted with a hearty Welcome Home at the gate. I feel like Im going to stroke out at any moment. I caught a glimpse of the ToT as we drove by and of course the monorail, but no castle. That should be a phrase for us. Instead of Close, but no cigar, it should be Close, but no castle.
Ok, the approach to the lodge is gorgeous. The unloading-area portico is gorgeous, the parking lot is gorgeous! How the heck do you do that? Make a parking lot gorgeous. Get a grip, Doug, I tell myself. Doug answers back, You get a grip, this is fan-freakin-tastic!
We walk up to the doors which slide apart, and one of the many blessings of the south hits us full-on: 60 degree air! I grew up in Livingston, Texas (horrifyingly-depressing-place-dont-ever-visit-not-even-on-a-bet), about an hour north of Houston. Im not down on Texas as a state, but East Texas is truly a godawful place. The humidity is so high that taking a deep breath can cause drowning, damn pine trees which kill everything underneath them as far as the eye can see, the ground is nothin but clay and sand, and some of the people are as dumb as used buckshot. However, for all my loathing of all things east-texasy, I have preserved an appreciation for one thing: air-conditioning. EVERYTHING is air-conditioned in Texas; outhouses are air-conditioned, the freakin phone-booths are air-conditioned.
As I was saying, we walk into the lobby of the WL and a shiver runs down my spine. I dont know whether its the sheer, beautiful magnitude of the place or the frigid air; whatever it is I dont care.
Aaron Copeland is in my opinion, the finest, most american, American composer who ever lived. He took the American West, and scored it with God Himself. Fanfare for the Common Man is dawn first touching the coast of Maine, Appalachian Spring is mountains leaping with trees on their shoulders, and Hoedown from Rodeo may be a dance, but it is absolutely nothing if not a cowboy on a horse, racing across the plains of the great west with an approaching storm in the distance. Copeland is awesome. Hes also amazingly accessible to people who dont have much experience with classical music. Yeah, like I do.
In the lobby of the WL, none other than Copeland is playing quietly over the sound system, theres the gentle murmur of the people checking in and checking out, and I grab the kids hands and head for the geyser in the middle of the lobby. Squeals of delight erupt. Well say it was them doing the squealing, OK? The kids of course see coins in the fountain and turn pleading, manipulative eyes on their father. Digging in my pockets, I pull out change and give it to them; theyre happy. So am I. After all, to make my kids happy, the first money I spend at Disneyworld is pocket change. Life could be much worse!
We were going to buy our tickets at the customer service desk there in the lobby, but the lines are long, the staffing appears short and the CMs are slingin sweat, doing the best they can to help people. We decide that itll be fun to take the boat over to the gates of the MK to buy the tickets there later. Lets get to the room, get our suits on and check out that amazing pool before the storm hits.
We take the walkway from the WL (goodbye beautiful air-conditioning) to the lobby of the villas. Doors slide open again, and again, we get hit with the air-conditioning, only this time colder. (I could walk back and forth between those two buildings all day long. Im sick, I tell you! Sick!) Now, John Barry may not be Copeland, but hes no slouch either and he did a damn fine job scoring Dances With Wolves. Whats playing over the sound system in the Villas lobby? The Buffalo Hunt from Dances with Wolves.
We get to our Villa which is, I have to say, kinda small. Of course, that impression could have something to do with the fact that there are NINE people staying here, of which five think nothing of dropping some unwanted item out of there hand wherever they stand. Whatever, were here. We suit up and go down for a swim.
The main pool at the WL is amazing. Flat out, amazing. The slides great and the kids have a wonderful time. Of course, from every cloud must fall a little drop of rain, and there were huge clouds by this time. We eventually get rained out and go back inside.
MIL & FIL are going out to a convention dinner that night. So BIL, SIL & I decide to take to boat to the MK to get tickets before they leave. By that time, weve got a steady rain going so this is fun. I have to say, going to the main gates of the MK without going in isnt nearly as traumatizing as one might think. Particularly when its raining. Actually, it was just so much fun to be there, that having to wait until the next day was no big deal. We take the boat back and get to swing by the Contemporary (uh, no thank you) and Ft. Wilderness (no really, NO thank you!) before heading back to the WL.
Now, prior to this trip, Ive been reading the books, reading the trip reports, doing my homework, and generally obsessing like crazy over this trip. Ive charted park attendances over days, PS reservations, special events, etc. The next day is the first Saturday in June and is GayDay at the MK. We dont really care, but the news is that the park with be densely populated by 11am. So, weve decided to go to the AK first. I have put together a little report that everyone can carry with them. Ive also said numerous times that, as soon as we get through the gate, we have to head to the Kilimanjaro Safaris. Its imperative that we do so. If not, prepare to spend eternity in line, or someplace considerably warmer if I have any say. Are we all clear on this? Good.
So, MIL & FIL go out for their dinner, the kids are watching the **** toob and we order pizza. Yeah, I know. Some of the best eating in the world just outside our door, and we order pizza. What the heck, were still there. Oh, by the way, we have a balcony that looks out through the trees to the lake so we get to see the funky light pageant when it passes by, and a slice of Wishes going off. I think I'm more tired that the kids were so I turn in early to get an early start.
What the hell was I thinking?
Keep 'em coming!
