Americalog

[peipunk]

we drove to our hotel to warm up for the show

Is that what the kids are calling it these days!?!?!?

[Davey Boy 2.0]

"...Depends onto the stage" is a pretty damn good finale in itself

[jaybone]

If your travels take you through NYC, it might be fitting to stop in and see Million Dollar Quartet playing on Broadway.

We saw it last summer and it was pretty fun.

Keep the posts coming Velvet! As always, your logs are a treat to read.

[gentlemonkey]

"...Depends onto the stage" is a pretty damn good finale in itself

...agreed. The imagary of Jerry Lee on stage, eyes closed in the Jesus Christ pose, being showered in thunderous applause, cat calls and disposable briefs is something I'll keep with me forever.

[Schwa.]

Can you put some fucking pictures in with these stories?

gawd

[Davey Boy 2.0]

Sidebar- I have it on good authority that one Depends will hold an entire beer.

Coincidence? perhaps.

[backbacon]

I'm addicted to these Americalogs! I've been getting up a half hour earlier just so I can enjoy the latest entry over a cuppa coffee before TPIR comes on!

[Velvet]

Stardate 021111

Today was a free day, first one of the trip. For each day of this journey I have an itinerary page written up rife with directions, suggestions, and inspections; this morning I reached into the binder and pulled out a blank page. A glance out the hotel window showed a rainy day, but as we loaded our bags into the car we were happy to find our second 20+ degrees day in a row. Finally we were getting vacation weather.

We started the day with a nice slow drive east on highway 41 through the Everglades. We were south of Alligator Alley on a smaller, two-lane road. Soon enough the rain stopped, the sunroof opened and we were cruising through the glorious Florida weather.

Halfway along we stopped at a short nature hike where we had a chance to see lots of alligators swimming around, and big ones too. That most resilient survivor of the dinosaur era, it was all I could do to not reach out and touch one, in the same way that I get tempted to lick fenceposts in the winter. Though a 'gator basically comes with it's own built-in “Do Not Touch†sign there is something so placid about them you just want to see what that bumpy skin feels like. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten; looks like I was able to resist after all.

I was surprised to see that when a 'gator approaches, other seemingly bite-sized wildlife tend to sit by unperturbed. I expected these guys to be King of the Swamp, scattering all others in their path, but not so. I suspect they eat rarely enough to keep their prey complacent, which is probably a great long-term hunting strategy.

We made it over to Homestead where we hit up some bbq for lunch and stocked up on supplies. Though the afternoon was quickly slipping away we decided to try the campgrounds in Everglade State Park.

Shortly after paying our $10 entrance fee (good for seven days) we pulled over to do a couple of short walking trails. One was all flora, the other was all about the fauna. Oh, the critters we saw. Aside from the obligatory alligators (or were they crocodiles? The Everglades is the only place in the world where the two co-exist), there were a zillion birds. Vultures were omnipresent, but the most photogenic were the tall beaky birds with flamingo-style leggings (an ornithologist I am not), of which there were many varieties. There was one bird sitting perched on a pole that was unquestionably the inspiration for Rod Stewart's hair stylist. As we walked along the wooden pathway past information kiosks that warned of all the different poisonous snakes I got a real feeling of Ray Bradbury's Sound Of Thunder – whatever you do, don't go off the path!

Everywhere you looked was an absolute wealth of wildlife, one's scope of vision could take in so many critters in a glance that everywhere you looked was like staring at a diorama from the Museum of Nature. Fortunately we didn't see any snakes or panthers and soon the sun started to dip, and with a tent still to pitch we were off.

We returned to find our car unharmed from the circling vultures (much signage warns that the bastards will damage vehicles and we saw evidence of that in the lot when we parked), and just down the road we found the first of the two state park campgrounds. Undeterred by the day of carnivore spotting, we put up the tent, grabbed a beer and the guitar and hunkered down for a night of swatting mosquitoes. I find it refreshing to have to worry about bugs in February, Heather less so, and soon we were in the tent for the night.

I really hope I'm able to sleep tonight. Tomorrow is the day we've been looking forward to the most, though to be honest I'm trapped in a fairly constant state of fear about it. Beer, as always, will be the cure.

[bradm]

As we walked along the wooden pathway past information kiosks that warned of all the different poisonous snakes I got a real feeling of Ray Bradbury's Sound Of Thunder – whatever you do, don't go off the path!

Nice cite!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Sound_of_Thunder

These writings are some of your best, V. :thumbup:

Aloha,

Brad

[Velvet]

Stardate 021211

Last night was a fitful sleep at best. Whether due to the wind whipping the tent around all night or anticipation of the day ahead matters not, either way Heather and I got up around 8:30 and packed up in the rain. By 9:30 we were on the road, by ten o'clock we were at the Starbucks drive-thru back in Homestead and by 10:30 we were on the bridge arcing over the salt water into the Florida keys.

Key Largo was our destination, making this the shortest daily drive of the journey thus far. We found the scuba shop where I had pre-arranged rental of a prescription diving mask (no diving with glasses), and we drove up the road to check out our digs for the night.

It was still three hours to check-in, but we checked out the lagoon we would be staying in and watched a giant manatee (is there any other kind of manatee?) idling about in the water just a few metres from where we stood, his huge beaver-like tail propelling him slowly about, occasionally lifting his nostrils out of the sea to drink in the air.

With a few hours to kill we stopped at a cheesy flea market, hit the post office to mail some postcards, and found another Starbucks for some wi-fi. The lady at our hotel had recommended a spot for lunch so we hit that up and finally it was time for our big adventure.

Heather is a certified diver; she has scuba'd in some of the world's most envious diving spots. I am not a certified diver, and I have skipped out on diving some of the world's most envious diving spots, partly out of being a cheap bastard, but mostly out of fear. What scares me is the chance that I'll get spooked by something underwater that will make me do something stupid. I'm not really afraid of getting eaten, I'm more afraid that I'll panic and needlessly cause my own demise.

We decided that this adventure was too cool to resist and would provide me with a great oppourtunity to test my apprehensions.

I met Andy, the man who would be walking me through everything I needed to know and basically holding my hand as I completed my 'resort' dive. After filling out a bunch of forms and waivers we began my dry training, which consisted of him telling me all I'd need to know once we got in the water. A half-hour later I was ready to suit up.

I suppose it goes without saying that Heather looks a lot cuter than I do in a wetsuit. My fears were at least partially validated because I'm sure I looked more walrus than human in my black squishy tights. Into the water I went, and Andy ran me through my skills training. Basically he showed me how to retrieve my regulator should it pop out of my mouth, and how to clear my mask should it get flooded with water. When my head initially went underwater my fears started to pique, but by the time I had gone through my little tests with Andy I was feeling fine, so off we went.

Andy led us on a tour of the small lagoon we were in, past their submerged research facility, over the Spanish galleon with its cannons and anchor, and around the rock pile where there is usually a nurse shark, though she wasn't home. I did see my share of fish and a funny little lobster running about but now it was time for the featured attraction. Following Andy over to a large, barnacled structure in the middle of the lagoon, we went underneath and poked our heads up through a hole in the bottom, the moon pool they call it, and surfaced into Jules Underwater Lodge, the world's only underwater hotel.

Sporting a wet room, two bedrooms and a kitchen/living room, Jules Underwater Lodge was built as an underwater research facility that was stationed a hundred feet below the surface in Puerto Rico. At the end of its service one of the researchers purchased it and anchored it here in Key Largo five fathoms deep. As we showered and changed Andy pulled a plate of fruit and a pile of jumbo shrimp out of the fridge for us, and then proceeded to give us a tour. There is a tv with dvd's (The Abyss, anyone?), snacks aplenty, tv's and radios in each of the two bedrooms, and of course phones to contact the surface in case of emergencies (there is someone up in the control van at all times when people are down here). Most fun are the big round windows that look out into the water, like a reverse fishbowl.

Andy left us, diving through the hole in the floor of the wetroom, returning an hour later with dinner in his waterproof suitcase. Salad, chicken, baked potatos with sour cream and chives, broccoli, and of course key lime pie for dessert.

Over dinner he told us a lot about the place. Notable guests that have spent the night here include Pierre Trudeau, Jon Fishman, Joe Perry, and Robin Leach. Playboy has shot down here, as has National Geographic, and something else I'm not allowed to tell you about. There are registers filled with glowing reviews from past guests, including several NASA officials, as this facility has been used to condition astronauts with isolation training.

As we made our way through dinner Andy bid us farewell until the morning, and we had the place to ourselves. Heather has just popped Jimmy Buffett into the cd player and I think it's about time I shut down the computer and enjoyed the hell out of the place.

Tonight we sleep with the fishes.

[Cosmic ChrisC]

So how'd you sleep? Did you see any sea creatures outside your windows?

Love the old pictures on their web site ! Is the decor still the same?

[backbacon]

Wow! So cool!

[meggo]

thanks again todd! i got a little shiver at the pictures of you playing graveside. also thanks to the peanut gallery for the giggles..

[Velvet]

Stardate 021311

This morning we woke up aquanauts. The large windows grew dark last night as the sun set so this morning I woke up nice and early to enjoy as much of Jules Underwater Lodge as I could. At 6am I rolled out of bed, leaving Heather to slumber in the sleeping chambers alone. I crawled through the large portal into the wet room and continued into the living area. I made a coffee and munched some crackers while perusing yesterday's newspaper. The windows gradually illuminated with the rising sun giving me a nice view of the marine life outside, though it was clear that some of the fish were as curious about me as I was about them.

Heather and I had stayed in Quebec's Ice Hotel once and I often describe it as the world's quietest place to sleep, with its complete lack of plumbing and air ducts and what with snow and ice being very effective natural sound baffles. Jules Underwater Lodge is quite the opposite, it sounds like you are sleeping in a laundromat with all the air compressors and water sounds emanating from, well, everywhere. Don't get me wrong, it's no complaint. Our experience was literally all good; okay, I'll upgrade that to all great.

Heather got up an hour later and enjoyed coffee and some fresh fruit while I made myself a small breakfast of Honey Nut Cheerios. Close to 8am the phone rang. It was Andy asking us to pack up and suit up, he would be down in ten minutes. He took our waterproof suitcases to the surface and came back for us. On our way out Andy showed us around the outside of the hotel; we peered into the windows we had spent most of our time peering out of. Above the hotel we found tons of fish and a drum kit. Yes, a drum kit. Heather and I had a little undersea jam and too soon it was time to make our way to solid ground.

I would have loved to stay in the water longer; I guess that means I am no longer afraid of diving. I now see what all the hubbub (blub-blub) is about. Instead of regretting all the times I had passed up the chance to dive on previous trips I will focus on all the adventures to come. Maybe I'll look into getting certified when I'm back home.

Which won't be for a while, 'cuz this is the vacation that keeps on giving! Back onshore we showered and signed a few more papers on the way out. We hopped in the car and got back on Highway 1, headed south. We had a snack at Wendy's, did some wi-fi, and window shopped at a couple of cheesy souvenir shops in Key Largo before setting off in earnest down the keys. The day was gorgeous, not a cloud in the sky and the temperature was in the 20's. Sunroof open and cd's loaded up, we enjoyed a beautiful drive with the bluest of water on either side of us. The keys are a series of islands (well, keys, cays, quays, whatever you want to call them) connected by bridge after bridge, and it makes for some damn pretty scenery. The only thing in Canada I can compare it to is the Magdeline Islands, only tropical.

In less than an hour we arrived at Long Key State Park where we had a reservation for the night (reservations are absolutely necessary, the whole island has been booked for weeks). We were early so we changed into bona fide summer clothes for the first time this trip and went for a nice little nature walk through the park. Shortly after 1pm we were assigned a camping spot on the beach. We pitched our tent and got back in the car, aimed at Key west.

The ride just kept getting prettier and prettier, and sixty miles later we were at the end of the keys. We turned onto highway A1A and circumnavigated Key West, cruising right by Mile 0 before finding a parking spot on Duval Street, Key West's main drag. We fed the meter and meandered up the strip. The area was uber-touristy, with a smattering of old majestic homes that somehow survived the t-shirt shop onslaught. I get the feeling that if Key West decided not to cater to tourists it might resemble Havana. Soon hunger started to settle in big-time, and near the top of Duval we decided on a patio restaurant called Fogarty's.

Fogarty's. Remember that name my friends.

With local legend Jimmy Buffett's 'Cheeseburger In Paradise' ringing in my head I ordered the blue cheeseburger. When the waiter set the plate in front of me I immediately gasped, “You just made my dreams come true.†The thing looked too good (and too big) to eat. The burger must have been two-thirds of a pound and it was absolutely smothered in crumbled blue cheese and grated bacon, accompanied by fries so hot they were steaming. I just looked at the thing for a few moments, and when I finally dug in my first bite gave me goosebumps. In my lifelong non-competitive search for the world's greatest cheeseburger this one was a contender. I ate the whole thing in mere minutes, and wiped the plate clean taboot.

Fogarty's. On Duval Street, in Key West.

While Heather waited for her key lime pie dessert (her third slice in two days) I ran about nine blocks to refeed the meter. When Heather and I reunited she had taken her beer to go (alcohol in the streets is a-ok 'round these parts) and we weaved through the streets to Mallory Square and onto the pier to watch the sunset with about fifteen thousand other out-of-towners. The place was an absolute madhouse of tourists and touts, the sun went down, we all clapped and Heather and I booted it out of there. We did a slow walk back to the car where the meter had run out again (no ticket), and we joined the parade of vehicles headed back north out of town to cheaper digs.

Ninety minutes later we were back at our camp site sipping beers under a beautiful starry sky. Night had fallen and the temperature still hovered around twenty degrees. The sand was like powder between our toes and the wind was blowing just hard enough to keep the bugs at bay.

The change in latitude feels great.

[Schwa.]

awesome!

[Velvet]

Stardate 021411

Long Key State Park is pretty, well kept, and very clean. It is also very close to the highway; the camping spots are only about fifty metres from the road, so there is pretty steady traffic noise. Of course the traffic gets busier as the morning starts to progress, so we were up early once again.

Heather and I sat on our picnic table for an hour or more as the sun made its way up into the sky. We watched as a small flock of birds continually played in the sand in front of us whilst a long-legger slowly waded along the shore behind them from as far as we could see left to as far as we could see right. It was a great way to ring in Valentine's Day, though to be honest neither of us puts too much stock into February 14th.

Nice hot showers were available in a building just a few dozen metres away, then we packed up our gear and got out of there. We were on the road well before 9am, and after breakfast and some more lovely oceanic views we left the Florida Keys, headed north back towards Homestead.

We were lucky to find another lovely day, so we kept the sunroof open for the entire long drive. We opted to stay on secondary highways and avoided the Interstate all the way to Celebration.

That's right, the third stage of our vacation would be that most American of iconic vacations, Disney. I had last visited in the early 70's back when there was only the Magic Kingdom. My most vivid memory is the Dumbo ride, and I anticipated big changes. The first thing I noticed is how dirt cheap the hotels leading up to Disney World are. We're talking name-brand hotels advertising rates as low as $21 a night. The last ten or so miles of the strip every hotel was under $30. No proletariat off-site stay for us though, we had booked the last three nights of off-season at one of Disney's three budget resorts, the All-Star resort at $89 a night. Of course we chose the one with the music theme.

We checked in and were assigned a ground floor room in the Country Music building, and as we pulled the car around to the appropriate parking lot we passed the Calypso, Jazz, and Rock places, three-storey buildings adorned with giant maracas, drums, Les Pauls and Strats, and of course our place, replete with monstrous banjos, fiddles, and cowboy boots (size 210). There are two pools, one piano-shaped, the other guitar-shaped, a lobby lined with photos of stars from Charlie Parker and Johnny Cash to The Beatles and Elton John, and a huge diner/food court decorated with murals of famous musicians of all stripes.

Our room has that awesome Mickey Mouse logo on everything; the carpet, the curtains, the tables, the soap. The maid had even left three towels on the bed, one big circle and two little ones, that simple design that is recognised worldwide.

I filled the cooler with ice and we grabbed a large pepperoni pizza to go from the food court and we spent the night relaxing in our room leafing through Disney propaganda. It was an exercise in futility as we had planned our stay here to coincide with the end of Heather's sister's annual family pilgrimage, and we were pretty much leaving our activities up to them. With two young children solidly in the ideal Disney age bracket, Heather's sister and her husband know their way around these parts quite well. We made contact and arranged to meet them in the morning to start our Disney adventure proper.

I like that Mickey Mouse. He's fucking Goofy.

[Velvet]

Stardate 021511

We got the call this morning around 8:30; we were to meet the family at Animal Kingdom in two hours. These Disney folks are loath to have you spend much time in your room so there is no coffee maker. As I strolled past the Rock Building towards the cafeteria for java I noticed Frankie Ford's 'Sea Cruise' emanating from the omnipresent outdoor speakers. Was it really just five days ago we had ended our Rock & Roll Field Trip? The diner was packed, but somehow it took no time to get a pair of coffees.

Drank up, cleaned up, paid for our day passes with the concierge in the hotel lobby (our room keys double as our tickets and triple as our park-wide charge cards for food, souvenirs, everything), and boarded the free shuttle to the park.

I'll admit I approached the day with a touch of cynicism, Disney being the international poster child for American entertainment capitalism. After all, isn't Disney basically evil wrapped up in cute? I noticed extensive security on the way in, culminating in a fingerprint scan linking all park goers to their admission tickets. That got my hair up on end. Heather suggested I just let it go and I told her I needed a minute or two to let the indignation dissipate. The cynic in me was close to completely taking over.

As we made our way to the meeting point with Heather's family we passed an enclosure, or was it even that?, containing a giant anteater. Wacky looking critter, and there he was just walking around a few metres away, no glass, no bars. I had to admit, that was pretty cool.

We found the family in short order and immediately got fastpass tickets for the African Safari ride. Fastpass is available to all ticket holders, and it allows you to go check out other stuff and return in a certain time window and avoid the big lineups at the more popular rides. We killed our wait time doing the African nature walk, which brought us past lots of crazy critters, and not a one of them in cages.

I was amazed at the gorillas. They were active and seemingly quite content, and for the life of me I couldn't figure out what kept them from being able to get to us, or to the other animals. These Disney folks are pretty good at the smoke-and-mirrors thing, and they're not just fooling the kids.

As soon as we were done the nature walk it was time for our Safari fastpass, so we entered and walked right by hundreds and hundreds of people waiting in the long line. In maybe four minutes we were sitting in our big safari car with about thirty others. Our driver set off and we careened along the road past a wealth of animals, most of which are free-roaming. We saw crocodiles, elephants, okapis, giraffes, gazelles, watusi cattle, wildebeest, lions, hippos, white and black rhinos, it was incredible. We were beside three cheetahs when we had to stop for about ten minutes. The driver explained that as the animals were free to go where they wanted quite often they would end up in front of a vehicle, and when that happened the whole shebang had to wait. While we waited the cheetahs got up and started roaming around. The driver told us this was quite rare as they usually spent the day laying around. When we started up again we soon found ourselves behind a couple of slow moving ostriches so we ambled behind them until they decided to veer off the path.

It was a really impressive, um, I guess they call it a ride, so I was happy that we had got another fastpass for the Safari before we boarded, allowing us to get on it again straight away. As the animals roam about, sometimes in sight and sometimes out of sight, you never get the same trek twice, and I thoroughly enjoyed it again the second time.

I had heard somewhere that employees of Disney aren't allowed to grow moustaches, and that the company got away with this discrimination infringement because all employees are considered actors. I kept my eye out and soon debunked it, I saw at least three “cast members†with facial hair. I had also heard that Disney Co. had analysed how many steps the average person would take to eat a candy bar and then placed garbage cans that many steps from their candy bar shops. I can't say one way or another, but when I finished my walkabout coffee I looked around for a garbage and found I was standing right next to one.

I was surprised that Disney is relatively low key when it comes to the gift shops. Sure every ride and every area has its own unique stores, but unlike a lot of touristy places I've seen you are generally not required to walk through a maze of capitalism to enter and/or exit an area. Sure there were two rides in the day that dumped you straight into the shops but for the most part they are tucked away on the sidelines.

My cynicism had completely disappeared by the time we stopped for lunch and a beer. Before eating Heather's brother-in-law grabbed us some fastpasses for the Experience Everest roller coaster, and after lunch we left the kids with their mom and once more strolled past all the people waiting in the regular line and walked right onto the ride. It utterly boggles my mind why most people don't utilise the fastpass option, but as Heather has told me more than once, some people just love to stand in line. The coaster was downright awesome and we rode it twice in a row, leaving me a bit legless. We did another nature walk where we saw gorgeous tigers and fascinating flying fox bats, huge komodo dragons and a crazy assortment of exotic birds. We saw a bunch of monkeys doing their thing and looking so happy, and again there was not a cage in sight. Amazing.

Heather and I opted for the white water raft ride next and met up with the family over in Dino-Land. The kids played in the playground while the adults tried the Dinosaur ride in shifts. Part simulator, part coaster, I found this the least of the day's rides, but I still went twice. The park was closing but we had dinner reservations at the Rainforest Cafe and when we were done there was a shuttle bus outside that seemed to be waiting just for us. In no time at all we were back at the Music Hotel mixing drinks and watching Wall-E on the Disney-heavy television.

I was really quite surprised at how much fun I had. These guys have thought of pretty much everything. I wouldn't say my day was necessarily “magical†but Canada's Wonderland et al can't touch this kind of entertainment. They got me.

[Velvet]

Stardate 021611

With nary a day in the last two weeks to just sit down and be on regular ole vacation, Heather and I suggested we skip out on hitting a park today and her familial counterparts agreed, so we settled on pool day.

We lazed around for most of the morning with coffees and the newspaper and at 11am boarded the shuttle out front of our hotel. The free shuttle service works really well, and one of the things I like most is it's generally point A to point B; rarely is it a milk run to get where you're going. There is no way to get directly from one hotel to another though, one must pivot at a park, so we boarded the bus to Magic Kingdom and waited there for the ferry service across the lake to the Wilderness Lodge, where Heather's family was staying. Smooth as butter we arrived at the hotel dock.

The difference between the budget resort we were staying at and the slightly more upscale Wilderness Lodge was immediately apparent. Exposed wooden beams appointed the entire area like a log cabin on steroids. The lobby was the size of a football field and extended up up up creating a huge open space lined with rooms. In the rooms themselves the headboards featured etched nature scenes with rabbits and sparrows and the like carved out of every available piece of wood.

The main pool was really nice, with decorative rocks jutting out of the middle disguising the water slide. The water itself was warm and clean, and the six of us splashed around with lots of space to ourselves. Soon we went around to the other pool area which was smaller and had a hot tub. We killed the whole afternoon there, jumping back and forth between the warm pool and the warmer tub while the sun battled the clouds giving us an intermittently beautiful day.

Around 5pm we bid the family farewell with hugs and handshakes; they fly out first thing in the morning. Heather and I opted for the bus to Downtown Disney for a look around.

Downtown Disney is not ticketed, but then there's nothing ride-oriented there. I guess you could call it pay-what-you-can, as it's shops, restaurants, shops, Cirque, shops, House Of Blues and Planet Hollywood, and lots more shops. There's a sock store and a place that sells only pins. There's the world's largest Disney Store, a Lego store, toy stores aplenty; it's a credit card fiesta. The products are quite unique and pretty pricey, though between Heather and I we only spent $4, walking out of there with a single postcard.

The food at Disney is expensive, about double or more what you'll find elsewhere, but it's plentiful and generally pretty good. For lunch I had a roast beef sandwich with blue cheese and chips, no drink. It was delicious and it was $10.01. A single banana will put you back a buck and-a-half, they sell single bagels for breakfast for $2.39 while bread is thirty-nine cents a slice at the cafeteria, you toast it yourself. Of course the prices don't seem to slow people down very much, as the growing obesity problem (more noticeable the farther south you get) is unmissable.

I'll include a tiny rant: you see people driving those little handicap carts all over the place, and they are all being driven by overweight people. Of course I can't say for sure, but it appears that these people are confining themselves to these transportation devices solely because of overeating. Now I'm no skinny rail, but I find it hard to comprehend that so many people will eat themselves to disability status, and it seems to me that as soon as they decide to hop on a cart instead of walking they've basically just given up. I try to ignore it and am pretty successful in not letting it bother me too much, but two things really get my goat. First, as soon as a VIP (Voluntary Intermittent Paraplegic) arrives at a ride or anything else with a lineup they and their party are ushered to the front, motoring past everyone who haven't eaten themselves to oblivion. Secondly and vastly more offensive is to think of people with bona fide reasons for being unable to walk. There was a family boarding the shuttle this morning with two little kids, one bound to a wheelchair and the other with obvious mobility restrictions, though he could struggle his way onto the bus unassisted. I'll bet these kids would do just about anything to be able to get around unencumbered by their physical restrictions, and to think that others join their ranks simply because they won't stop eating way to much fatty foods is just mind-boggling.

I understand Michelle Obama has taken on childhood obesity as her First Lady project. I wish her the very best of success, and I commend her highly for the effort.

End rant.

Bidding Downtown Disney farewell Heather and I shuttled back to our hotel and decided to save a few bucks and drive offsite for dinner. I was absolutely starved and needed a huge American-sized portion of something before I went batty. Back on the strip with all the discounted hotels we passed a thousand restaurant chains and pulled into Olive Garden – I figured an endless train of buttered bread would fill the hole. I was utterly unable to wait the thirty to forty minutes required to get a table so we ended up at Macaroni Grill. Heather and I spent the next hour devouring reasonably priced semi-Italian food and quietly debating whether our server was a man or a woman. We eventually decided that Mel was a lesbian and upon receiving our bill found we were right. We paid Melissa and were on our way.

The days being as they have been I had one beer back at our room and couldn't keep my eyes open long enough to find another, and I conked out before 11pm. At $90 for a single-day to visit one of the Disney parks pool day was a great and inexpensive alternative.

[TheGoodRev]

I'll include a tiny rant: you see people driving those little handicap carts all over the place, and they are all being driven by overweight people. Of course I can't say for sure, but it appears that these people are confining themselves to these transportation devices solely because of overeating. Now I'm no skinny rail, but I find it hard to comprehend that so many people will eat themselves to disability status, and it seems to me that as soon as they decide to hop on a cart instead of walking they've basically just given up. I try to ignore it and am pretty successful in not letting it bother me too much, but two things really get my goat. First, as soon as a VIP (Voluntary Intermittent Paraplegic) arrives at a ride or anything else with a lineup they and their party are ushered to the front, motoring past everyone who haven't eaten themselves to oblivion. Secondly and vastly more offensive is to think of people with bona fide reasons for being unable to walk. There was a family boarding the shuttle this morning with two little kids, one bound to a wheelchair and the other with obvious mobility restrictions, though he could struggle his way onto the bus unassisted. I'll bet these kids would do just about anything to be able to get around unencumbered by their physical restrictions, and to think that others join their ranks simply because they won't stop eating way to much fatty foods is just mind-boggling.

This sounds like downtown Hamilton.

Cracking job as always, Todd, love reading these things.

[Davey Boy 2.0]

if i were to open a restaurant in the South i'd call it "Vittles"

[Booche]

Even the Sheen agrees:

Too much Disney, not enough drugs.

[Velvet]

Too much Disney, not enough drugs.

It's my new (anti-)style. I'm disappointed about it too.

[Velvet]

Stardate 02171811

Forgive me for I have sinned. It's been twenty-seven years since my last Ozzy Osbourne concert.

After two days of blissful nothingness besides sunning by the pool at my mom's place near Tampa, Heather and I drove into town for a shredfest last night; Slash opening for Ozzy.

We arrived a little after the scheduled start time of 8pm and were surprised to find Slash well into his set. I guess all those notorious late starts at Guns 'n Roses shows were Axl's doing. We managed to catch the last three songs of the set, which included Sweet Child 'O Mine and Paradise City, and while they were pretty well done and very likely the songs to catch, the singer was close enough to Axl to be a tad annoying yet far enough from rock's biggest asshole to be even more annoying. And while Slash on a bad day is still a pretty mean guitar player, I think we might have caught him on a bad day. The hat, the attitude and that magical Les Paul tone were all there, but it felt like he was sleepwalking through it a bit. Perhaps just coming off a spot in the half-time show at the Superbowl to an opening slot in an arena awash in empty sections took the wind out of his sails a bit, but that said Slash was a hell of a lot better than seeing some no-name opener fight for the audiences attention.

After a short turnover the room went dark and the audience was treated to a hilarious video montage that placed Ozzy in episodes of Jersey Shore, The Hangover, and Willow, among others. One clip even had the man dancing around in drag; it's obvious Ozzy doesn't take himself too seriously. In short order the Macabre Master Of Ceremonies took to the stage and immediately commanded the attention of the ten thousand dark worshipers in attendance at the St. Pete Times Forum. Perhaps a tip of the hat to the glorious full moon rising outside, Ozzy kicked things off with fan fave Bark At The Moon. Sounding every ounce as good as when I saw him on the Bark At The Moon tour back in the early '80's Ozzy implored the crowd to go crazy and have a “Fucking Good Timeâ€, leaping up and down clapping his hands anytime he didn't have to sing.

Next up was Hear You Scream followed by the delicious Mr. Crowley as the stage was showered with a pyrotechnic barrage from above. The band was wailing, even if guitarist Gus G. had the audacity to change Randy Rhoads' immaculate dorian solos in the amazing pipe organ inflected piece. At the end of the song Ozzy leaned over and picked up the business end of a fireman's hose, gleefully drenching the first twenty rows of the floor section in water and foam.

Sticking with his best solo album Blizzard Of Ozz, Osbourne then led us through the opening track, I Don't Know, proving that heavy metal can actually approach poignancy when in the right hands. Not to ignore his days with Black Sabbath the band then burned through Fairies Wear Boots while Ozzy kept up the the water hose shenanigans, which soon became a staple of the evening.

With continued urging to Go Fucking Crazy and more jumping jack-style clapalongs, Ozzy kept up with the hits...er...non-hits. Suicide Solution, Iron Man, and War Pigs were highlights separated by the better-than-a-setbreak-I-guess guitar solo (owing much to Van Halen's Eruption) and drum solo (owing much to thenitgetsfaster and check it out, thenitgetsfaster again) before our short-stepping host closed the set with his obligatory classic, Crazy Train.

Real-live lighters actually came close to competing with the glow of cell phones for the encore of Mama I'm Coming Home while we all got our Sabbath yayas out one more time for Ozzy's signature closer, Paranoid. For a $25 ticket (plus fees) it was a hell of a good show, and I suspect I won't wait another nearly three decades to see him again. While his mobility lends him an air of frailty, Ozzy's still got “itâ€, no question at all, and after last night's show I'm convinced he plays up his mumbling character on his reality show.

We walked out into the balmy evening to the parking garage next door and experienced a virtual absence of traffic getting out of there and back to my mom's place, proving that done right, a downtown stadium can work. Back home it was a quick beer and off to bed in anticipation of our earliest wakeup time of the trip.

[Hartamophone]

While his mobility lends him an air of frailty, Ozzy's still got “itâ€, no question at all, and after last night's show I'm convinced he plays up his mumbling character on his reality show.

Maybe he needs a power scooter.

[Velvet]

Stardate 021911

The knock on the door came shortly after 6am and we were on the road by seven, Heather and I in our car following a car containing my mom, her two cats and her friend Mary across the state to Deland, a suburb of Daytona where my dad has his winter spot.

Aside from a slightly disastrous Dunkin' Donuts stop that resulted in a burned thumb for Heather and a lap full of coffee for myself, the ride was uneventful. We arrived at my dad's place where Mary's cat and husband were waiting, and the whole crew of us (minus the cats) drove to Daytona where my dad keeps his awesome RV parked.

My father showed me around the park a bit and before you knew it they were all off to the races, leaving Heather and I in the lap of redneck luxury. We wasted little time at the RV, opting to spend the afternoon tooling around the Daytona Beach area.

Our first stop was a flea market near the RV park. Dad had recommended this so we took his word and checked it out. There were a few dozen booths outside selling mainly NASCAR merchandise and I started to think the flea market was a bit of a disappointment. There was a building so we popped in and noticed a few dozen more tables with more varied wares. As we meandered towards the back of the building it soon became apparent that the building shot off in all directions and went on as far as the eye could see. We found ourselves in a virtual labyrinth of bargain basement shopping, passing tables that stretched off into the horizon, laden with everything from plumbing parts to knives and ammo. There were bongs and pipes, toys and games, sweatshirts, beach towels. You can get thai food or get your hair cut. One could be here all day and not see it all.

As we delved deeper and deeper into the maze of merch we stumbled upon a used record shop. The first thing I looked for was Lenny Breau and I found his first two albums in mint condition, $25 tax-in for the pair. Heather got the same price for a Garcia album and a double LP by the Allman Brothers, we had to get away from that place fast. My internal compass led us back to the car where I loaded the records in like they were made of gold, and we pulled out of the lot looking for lunch.

My dad had been raving about Five Guys burgers. It was a chain I had been noticing on recent American travels so I was happy to try it.

Short answer: Five Guys has the best burger of any chain I've ever tried, worldwide.

Longer answer: They only have a dozen items on the menu, no chicken whatsoever. All toppings are included, and they really pile them on, cheese, grilled mushrooms, would you like your onions raw or fried? We decided to share an order of fries and while we waited I helped myself to some of the unlimited free peanuts from one of the barrels near the order counter. The amount of fries they give you is unprecedented, and when your sack is packed they scoop another load of fries in there, spilling molten-hot potato goodness on top of your entire order.

As we went though our freshly ground burgers I noticed they were both double-burgers, standard. Up on the wall amongst all the awards they've won is a whiteboard telling you which farm today's potatoes came from. I was in heaven and cursed every time in my past that I've driven by a Five Guys. I won't do it again. As we were leaving I lingered by the door; I honestly couldn't bring myself to just walk out. I drank in the place one more time, and with a heavy sigh and an elongated stomach I headed back to the parking lot.

Next on our list was the beach. We paid our dues ($5 a day, but only $3 for us as it was after 3:30) and spent an hour driving up and down what is billed as The World's Most Famous Beach. Though there are some car-free areas, miles and miles of Daytona Beach are driveable, with a strip of the beach fairly hard packed from a century of traffic. Back in the day cars set world speed records here, it being so flat and straight. NASCAR started here, with the annual Daytona race running right on the beach until the Daytona Speedway was built just over fifty years ago.

We stopped and had some ice cream, getting the powdery sand between our toes and watching the beach bums frolic. Though the temperature dipped a little on the beach it was still near twenty degrees with the sun blazing down though a cloudless sky. Cones devoured we got back in the car and continued our 10mph crawl along the packed sand. It was after 5pm when we made it back to pavement.

Back to Deland my brother had arrived at Dad's place, marking the first time my whole family had been in Florida together since 1975, quite a feat considering how often we get down here individually. Despite the fact that Heather and I were still basically full of Five Guys burgers dad insisted on a buffet and off we went. Shortly after dinner Heather and I left the rest at dad's place and went back to the RV. We arrived, mixed a drink and started looking for a party.

Here we were in a packed campground two and-a-half miles from the Speedway on the night before the Daytona 500 – the Superbowl of NASCAR, ten o'clock on a Saturday night, and the place was dead. Trailers and RV's by the hundreds, a beautiful warm night, and hardly a soul stirred. We did a walkabout and found a half-dozen folks having a few beers by the office, and around the corner from our lot we found a small group (with nothing but a pup tent) lining up for a round of beer pong. We stuck with the pongers for a few drinks and shots of Jim Beam as they played and belted out the occasional “whoop!†(the redneck mating call, they called it). Eventually we went back to the other, um, party? and found it had just been shut down, it being past 11pm and all, with only one man left standing. No worries, we gathered up the lone redneck and took him back over to the beer pong court, stopping to pour him a healthy rum and coke along the way.

Maybe it was around 1am when some young'uns across the way piled out of a taxi so we joined them for a bit, until a neighbor came over and tried to shut them down. One of the young'uns decided to be a right asshole and a standoff ensued. When the older fellah broke off to return to his trailer I heard some talk of guns and decided we were drunk enough to call it a night.

Back at our mondo RV I guess we went to bed, but it was too late for me to remember much about that.