Posted on January 6, 2010
24 Hours Of Driving And Thriving
I’m afraid I don’t have much energy to devote to much of anything tonight, creative or otherwise. Regrettably, the long drive sapped the entire family of our residual strength and we’ve spent the past twenty-four hours running on little more than fumes. Once we were finally able to get on the road after the unfortunate eight hour delay we were forced to endure, we made an arduous sixteen hour journey across the country, through the nation’s bowels of Louisiana, Mississippi and Arkansas before finally settling deep into The Great American Urethra, otherwise known as the state of Florida. Every wannabe stand-up comic may have already made the Florida-as-penis joke far too many times than I’d like to explore, but the joke is a cliche because it’s true. The state is a giant, flaccid phallus that dangles off the edge of the country and metaphorically pisses the waste of North America into the warm and salty waters of the Atlantic Ocean, only nobody really cares because, well, it’s Florida! The country, after all, likely has low expectations of a state that brought us both pregnant chads and a governor named Jeb. And, let’s face it, aside from Disneyworld and NASA, the best Florida ever had to offer died with the cancellation of The Golden Girls.
Disneyworld. It’s a great place that, while fiendishly managed by malevolent corporate greed designed to rape its customers on every level imaginable, still manages to engender feelings of warm and fuzzy goodness from me and mine. Judging by Trey’s initial reaction to the place, for example, he’ll likely harbor a deep adoration of it for many years to come. When we first passed under the Walt Disney World gateway and pulled onto the 47 square miles of Disney property, he made his face smile so hard that it came around the other side, looking angry. Seriously, by the time we parked the car, he was so excited that I was certain he was about to Hulk out from pure joy, and I started watching for signs that his skin was turning green. Thankfully, it wasn’t – but that was just the start!
usually faster than taking Disney transportation (well, with the exception of the monorail, providing it doesn’t catch on fire), but the Magic Kingdom is an exception. When you drive to the Magic Kingdom, you don’t actually park at the Magic Kingdom. Instead, you park at the Ticket and Transportation Center, then board a tram to take you from the parking lot to the TTC itself, before finally choosing to depart for the park via boat or monorail. It’s a multi-step process that is annoying when you’re arriving and downright soul-crushing when you’re leaving. After a day of constant walking whilst carrying a child who somehow manages to increase his specific gravity with every step you take, the last thing you want to do at the end of it all is stand in more lines – and there are always lines. There are lines for everything: to get into the park, to leave the park, to buy food, drinks, clothes and toys. There are lines for the rides and lines for the shows, lines for the toilets and lines on the roads. Lines, queues, turnstiles and wraparound rat mazes funnel hundreds of thousands of people through a resort complex twice the size of Manhattan – and it works. It’s annoying, but it does work.
husband and a couple of other guys to come join her. Naturally, I could not let this slide, so I began yelling at them as we approached. I elaborated as we got closer, but their lack of response to my skillful display of unrepentant rage seemed to indicate that they simply weren’t impressed. Once they started speaking to each other, however, it became clear: they didn’t speak English. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact language, but it was of the eastern European variety, not that it matters. I’m fairly certain that cultural differences don’t allow for flagrant abuses of accepted social conventions like not cutting in line. Whatever country they were from, they were pricks, regardless of whatever language it was they were speaking.
me Daddy, sans the Kris. We toured Mickey’s house, and he met the famous mouse and his girlfriend. We rode Goofy’s roller-coaster and saved the galaxy with Buzz Lightyear. We were passengers onboard several trains, from the steam train that surrounds the park and the linear synchronous motor-propelled PeopleMover of Tomorrowland, to the train of a 1970s-tomorrow called the Monorail and the “crazy train” that Trey calls the parking lot tram. We walked into the Haunted Mansion and walked out as soon as Trey decided he wasn’t as into it as he thought he’d be. We watched a 3D CGI film called Mickey’s Philharmagic and laughed as Trey reached out to grab a phantasmic Donald Duck, or when he jumped in his seat as droplets of water jumped off the screen and splashed onto his face. We took part in a massive street dance-a-thon with a few Disney characters and a couple thousand other people, and we took a quick tour through the candy store. But mostly, I watched Trey having the time of his life, and I smiled.
Want some books? 'Course ya do!
NOTE: I know times are hard and yeah, I need to make a living too, but if you want to read any of my books but can't afford to buy them right now, hit me up.
I'll take care of it.
Humor | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers
 |  |  |
Have you ever lived through an experience that was so humiliating that you wanted to die, but when you tell it to all your friends, they can't stop laughing?
Have you ever made a decision that seemed like a good idea at the time, but you're still living with the hilarious consequences years later?
If so, then grab a snack, get comfortable, and prepare to have all of your own poor life choices seem just a little bit more bearable.
You're welcome.
Short Stories
Available now from the following retailers
| |
The nine stories of rage and sadness collected here range from the most intimate of human experiences to the wildest realms of magic and fantasy. The first story is a violent gut-punch to the soul, and the rest of them just hit harder from there.
Those who tough it out will find a book filled with as much hope as despair, a constant contradiction pulling you from one extreme to another.
Life might knock us down, over and over, and will the beat the ever-loving snot out of us from the time we're old enough to give it attitude until the day we finally let it win and stop getting up.
Always get back up.
Gaming | Nonfiction
Available now from the following retailers
| |
This isn't just a book. It's a portal to other worlds where there be magic and dragons and hilarious pirates. Okay, not really. But this book is about those portals, except they're called video games.
The Life Bytes series of books take a deep dive into one man's personal journey through childhood into kinda/sorta being a responsible, competent adult as told through the magical lens of whatever video games he was playing at the time.
Part One starts way back in 1975 and meanders down various digital pathways until, oh, around about 1993 or so.
If you're feeling nostalgic for the early days of gaming or if you just want to understand why the gamer in your life loves this hobby so much, take a seat in your favorite comfy chair and crack this bad boy open.
I'll try to not be boring.
Horror
Available now from the following retailers
| | |
What you are about to read is not a story. There is no beginning, middle, or end.
What follows is nothing more than a series of journal entries involving shadow people, sleep paralysis, and crippling fear. It’s not pretty, it doesn’t follow story logic, and nothing works out well in the end.
You've been warned.
You must be logged in to post a comment.