From Orlando, Florida - Cam's View

One thing I pride myself in is that my kids enjoy writing as much as we do.  I finally had my 8 year old complete his Summer Challenge - write about something that he cared about and put it on my report.  What follows is his story, in his words...

One day I went to Florida. I saw lots of cool rides and foods. I went on Space Mountain. Do you know that my friends dad lost his glasses and it almost hit the person behind him.  I went on the Pirates of the Carrabian ride it was pretty scary, dark, wet and fun. I also went on the Star Wars ride. It was bumpy and felt like we were in space.  My friends across the street just went to Florida yesterday.

I also went on a Indiana Jones ride.  The actress almost got hit by a real boulderr.  We were also at Splash Mauntain.  I was sitting next to my screaming Mom.  She always thought the little hills were the real big one.  Her face on the picture looked like a real mean, horrible, scary looking cat. 

We also went on a kid roller coaster and we screamed.  It felt like we were going to fall off.  We also went on a Magic Flying Carpet ride.  I got to control it and my Mom would scream.  She actuilly said don't go too high, Cam.  I said it desn't matter.  When the ride was over, My Mom said "Tyoot!"  I also went on a kid oppstakel course.  My Sister got stuck so somewone but not me had to carry her out.  I also did a basketball game.  I won a prize.  I also did a car racing ride.  My Brother did better than me, just barely.  I kept bumping and he didn't.  But at first I was doing great.

I also did Soarin'.  It felt like we were flying.  We shouldn't have gotten 3D glasses.  I also did It's a Small World.  I did not like it at all.  It is for babies.  So is Handy Manny.  I tasted a lot of good popcorn and lemonade.  I brought back a Pirates of the Carrabien fake gun. 

I also went to a Celtic basketball game.  The score was 62-74.  THe Celtics won.  It was the Boston Celtics vs. the Orlando Magic.  The only people wh went were me, Dad and Gray.  After we went to our Neena's house in Florida.  We wrapped presents for our Mom and Dad.

The next day was Christmas.  I was so exiceded.  First I woke up at 5am in the morning.  I saw that I got an Ipod Nano.  I listened to music in my bed when I got it.  It had 14 songs on it.  And now it has 35.  Then I went to my Neena's.  I got benderoos and a video camra.  At the SpongeBob hotel I got a bunch of cool things like an invisible ink.  First when you squirt it in your hand it's black but when you rub it in it's gone.  It doesn't smell very good either.  When we went home we still had presents at home.  I had a scooter and a helmet.  It took three hours to get to Florida and back.  It hurt my ears when we were coming up and done.

There you have it.  In his own words.     

In Search of...Tiger Woods

I can't keep up with this guy anymore.  Is he partying with Rachel Uchitel in New York City?  Is he relaxing in Arizona with Dr. 90210?  Is he holed up in his Orlando fortress at Isleworth CC in Orlando?  Where is he?  Besides wondering who his concubine was during the Deutsche Bank Championship, this was the only remaining question I had about Birdiegate.  When I tricked my kids into accompanying me on my quest for the real Tiger Woods (or at least as much as is safe for 3 year olds), it came with a promise that we would see the real Tiger Woods.  My conversation went something like this:

Pulling my 7 year old out of the pool, "Do you want to help me look for Tiger Woods?  He lives around here you know."

"How long is it going to take Dad?"  My son quizzes me.

"Oh about an hour." I tell him, trusting that his sense of time has been diminished by the Florida sun.

"Okay.  But can I have some ice cream, too?" Of course you can.  It's difficult work looking for someone who doesn't really want to be found.

2pm.  Orlando, FL.  By this time, sponsors are dropping like flies.  Accenture (and after Enron wouldn't this former division of Arthur Andersen get out from under the scandal pretty quickly?) and Gillette both distanced themselves from the golf legend.  Two sponsors that had not given up on Tiger though are Tag Heuer and Nike. (note that this was written prior to Christmas)  I was talking to my wife, who reluctantly joined us, when I wondered aloud whether he ever shopped at the stores that he worked for, since he didn't have anyone else arrange trysts or leave voice mail messages for him.  So off to the Orlando Premium Fashion Mall on International Drive to find out.  If a Black Escalade could get lost anywhere in central Florida, it would be here.  I decided to investigate.

No, not here.  But I had one more place to look.

No dice.  In fact a very pretty Scandinavian helper glared at me when I asked her if Tiger had ever visited.  "I don't have time for this."  She snarled.  It was a week before Christmas, I understand, but I just asked a simple question, and if she wanted to shoo me away, she could have merely said "No."  But apparently, Tiger's downfall has polarized all of Scandanavia as I would find out at the Norway restaurant at Epcot Center the following week.  Trying to appear undaunted by the tongue lashing I had just received, I scurried away onto our next destination, lest the people I've encountered think I'm casing these joints.

A quick drive up International Drive onto County Road 50 would bring us to the next place to investigate.  After his unfortunate accident the night after Thanksgiving, the drunk and/or drugged up Woods was taken to the Health Central Medical Center. 

The closest my wife would allow me to get to asking a nurse about what happened that night was taking this picture outside of the hospital.  Thanks, honey.  This could be a seminal moment in my alternate career of blog writing, and I can't even ask a couple of questions like Ger-Riv.  I suppose because of HIPAA, I wouldn't get much out of the nurses, but I still had my sons' arcade money to flash in return for information; there was always a chance.  You're right, I wouldn't have been able to get away with that either.

I was right.  After more than an hour fruitless driving around, slowly going by any car that appeared to be a black Escalade, the troops were getting restless for action.  Onto Windermere, Florida.  Maybe Tiger was staying very close to home.  Or maybe not.

A very charming little town.  This is clearly where the affluent Orlandoites reside with lakes and old ivy wrapped houses everywhere you looked.  We spent more time driving around looking for a general store to ask about Tiger (I didn't tell the rest of the family though since we would have been stuck finding a real store to satisfy everone's growing hunger).  So around and around we drove.  No luck.  I guess everyone around here has other people do their shopping for them.  Or like the rest of Florida, they drive twice as long as the rest of us for the most basic of needs.

After a couple of U-turns and non-starts of finding general stores that may have been open on this Sunday afternoon, we came across Isleworth, the gated community where Tiger and Elin live.  We just drove by, thinking that if we stopped and asked about Tiger, we might get arrested or worse given the Hangover Treatment. 

So we drove around the greater Orlando area for over three hours.  We went to hospitals, malls and gated communities, and we could not find Tiger anywhere.  Maybe he was in New York, or Arizona, or in Sweden after all.  I guess we'll never know, nor will we ever know what happened on that night after Thanksgiving.  In any event, our journey had to end since we needed to feed the family.

While the kids were eating their grilled cheeses and chicken and my wife was finding amusement by the tense corporate retreat/yankee swap occurring next to us, I was looking at the photographs and reflecting on the downfall of this great champion.  I didn't really like him that much, myself.  He was not fan friendly, he always threw his clubs after decent shots and Jack Nicklaus was the reason why I started golfing in the first place.  But he was a hero to my boys.  And everytime I found him on TV before Thanksgiving, I would gather the boys and have them watch him wondering what he will do next. 

"Dad, he's awesome.  Why can't you golf like that?"  my seven year old would ask me.

"Because he's the best golfer in the world."  I would answer, while still watching the TV myself. 

Now, he's given up golfing indefinitely.  Every time he comes on the TV now, it's about his girlfriends and how he has hurt his family.  Instead of gathering the boys around, I now turn the TV off and hope that they don't see him.  I hope that they don't ask to watch the program I just turned off.

It's sad.

Three Sheets to Epcot Center - A Picture Essay

In this photo essay, we go Three Sheets to Epcot Center.  We drink grape wine, rice wine, glauwein, Morrocan slushies, tequila and of course, beer.

Da da dum. Da da dum. Da da dum bum bum bum.  Every night in every city around the world it happens.  People poor into local watering holes to well...drink.  It's our mission to traverse the globe getting to know these different people and their drinking customs, bellying up to the bar, and with any luck, making some new friends. [For copyright protection purposes, I thank Zane Lamprey, et al for this introduction.  Thanks, Zane.]

6PM.  Orlando, FL.  We're on a limited budget.  Our staff was playing ISpy with their Grandmother and couldn't help us produce our essay.  What easier way to experience, in a technologically disadvantaged way, the local drinking customs of several countries within feet of each other than at the cultural melting pot of Disney World?  Armed only with our trusted camera (I forgot to bring the video camera), we scurried past the lines at the GM Test Track and Soarin' and made our way to the Countries of the World Pavilion to sample the delights from 11 countries around the world.  The theme park's late hours, however, were not tonight and we only had three hours to get in and get out.  Man and woman versus drink, so to speak.  Join us, as we go THREE SHEETS TO EPCOT CENTER!

MEXICO.  Our first stop on our suddenly quick journey through the pavillion was La Cava De Tequila.  You don't need to know Spanish to know that that loosely translates to "Tequila Cave."  MM started quickly with a margarita from Jose, our bartender.  And I had a cheap generic beer called Sola that was served in the same type of clear bottle as Corona.  Hmm.  Is Corona just the Mexican equivalent of Milwaukee's Best?

To be honest with you, I'm not sure that was his name.  All I know is that he was from Miami, Florida. 

To our surprise, we also met the foursome below who were experiencing the Countries of the World Pavilion along with us.  After looking at the Tequila shot plate in front of the guys, we asked whether they did all those shots.  "Really?" my wife questioned when they said they hadn't.  Then, uh, who did?  Whereas this was our first stop, obviously this was their last.  The woman on the left was doing a tequila shooter.  Luckily for us, we backed up after we took this photo, since she was a little "shaky" with the whole salt, lime and tequila shot sequence.

NORWAY.  The girls at the Akershus Royal Buffet at the Norway Pavillion were not amused by my question of whether there was a bar inside.  Even charming Norwegian accents didn't make the angry words "No sir, we don't." sound any less harsh.  Why couldn't the Tequila Foursome tell us to skip Norway?

CHINA.  No luck with a bar here either, but we could order a couple of Tsing Tao with our eggrolls and dumplings from the Nine Dragons cafeteria.  This guy was pretty psyched to have his picture taken.  He also was insistent on taking our picture.  When I looked at it the next morning, I just shook my head.

GERMANY:  Our first stop was to taste the Gerstacker Gluhwein outside of the pavillion.  It's spicy wine made somewhere in Germany.  More than one person told us to try this wine, so we were excited to taste it.  Knowing that we still hadn't hit the "Biergarten," we tried just one between the two of us.  What our bartender didn't tell us though, was that it was spiced wine served HOT.  I suppose if you are living in a cave in the black forest this might be an appealing alternative to freezing, but when its 66 degrees in Florida?  No thanks.  Needless to say, I will have a discussion with those who fooled me into trying this concoction.  The bartender's smirk says it all...another American tourist fooled.

So we moved on to what I truly thought would be the highlight of the experience.  A liter stein at the "Biergarten."  Wait, what, they don't have a bar and worse yet, they don't serve beer?  But its called the "Biergarten!"  Was I wrong to think that "biergarten" means garden of beer?  I'm told that they serve beer during Octoberfest, but that I need to go over to the kiosk over here

to get Paulaner Octoberfest.  Shouldn't Octoberfest happen everyday in Disney World?  Doesn't New Years Eve happen every night at Pleasure Island?  "They don't do that anymore." I'm told.  Oh.  So I begrudgingly order two beers.  The girls wouldn't let me pour my own, so I didn't (as far as they know), but my wife was still choking down her glue wine, so I had two beers for myself.  The guy behind me, who we started talking to while waiting in line, looked thirsty so I gave him my extra beer, so long as I could take his picture and make fun of him in my blog if I so chose.  Prost!

ITALY.  My bewilderment over the lack of beer in a place balled the beer garten was quickly replaced by excitement.

"Can you take my picture with that Disney cast member in the funny clothes hanging out by the fountain?  The kids would love that picture." I request as we make our way to try some Italian wines and Peroni in the Italy Pavillion. 

"I'm from Wisconsin, I don't work here." The guy answers as I put my arm around him. 

"Can we take a picture with you anyway?" my wife inquires.  Just imagine if this happened in Faneuil Hall?

We end up missing any beer but try some white and red wines from a very nice lady named Maria.  She was very subdued when her boss was around, but very outgoing when the boss went out to the back room.

UNITED STATES.  Just a beer at the Fife and Drum take out stand.  We enjoyed the choral concert at America Gardens, but how can you have much to say about a Budweiser?

JAPAN:  Another situation where neither of the restaurants had a bar or served any beer or sake.  Everyone pointed us back to the same kiosk that we had left minutes before.  "You see, I told you you'd be back." the nice lady admonished.  May I just pour my own sake and drink peacefully?  Thank you.

MOROCCO.  We missed Mo'rockin' but did have a Casa Beer and a "Sultan's coloda," which was a Pina Colada with orange juice in it.  The best part was that my wife could make her own drink.  Well she got behind the bar for the picture below, and I assume she made her own drink, but I was too busy reading the receipt that said we just bought a "refreshment" and a "slushie."  If your spouse comes back from a work-related trip and you find a bunch of receipts that say "refreshment" and "slushie," well you know what was going on on that trip.  Mmm.  That's one good slushie!

  

FRANCE.  As we moved on, to the last part of our journey, we discovered that were running out of time.  Luckily we were going to France next, so I knew that this would be a quick trip.  Either I wouldn't be able to take them or they wouldn't be able to take us for very long.  Surprisingly, we all had a great time.  We must have been their last customers of the day, since everyone was helping us.  Either that or they wanted to be a part of our Photo Essay. 

My tasting notes from the wine tasting were predictably scant, but I did note that the Beaujolais Nouveau was "a little sour with some cherry and rasberry."  It must have been sitting in that box for too long.

ENGLAND.  Finally, a bar to sit and have a beer.  I wish we could enjoy this more, but the bartender was getting tired (of us) and didn't want to make any more suds shamrocks on our beers.  He dispatched us to the restaurant to eat dinner.

 

Instead, we made our way over to the Canada Pavillion.  Thanks for the beers, my man.

CANADA.  Similar to Norway, there was no beer to be had, although we just assumed that since it was getting to be closing time, and nothing appeared to be open. 

So back to England for that potato leek soup which was a truly forgettable dining experience.

THE NEXT MORNING.  I had forgotten that the family was going to be up early the next morning to head over to the Magic Kingdom.  Because the sun was shining a little bright this morning, we needed to find a hangover cure.  And fast.  Luckily the line at Splash Mountain wasn't too bad because of the cool weather and we thought that the 50 foot plunge into ice cold water would be a great way to get rid of our headaches. 

Mission Accomplished.  A great time was had by all.  Perhaps some of the folks we encountered will remember us and our adventure around Epcot.  I can assure you that we will never forget (most of) it.

Check back with us on Saturday as we go "In Search of Tiger Woods."

JMR