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Disney! World Fun! Frolic! Family!
I spent about 24 hours at the Disney! Coronado Resort in Walt Disney! World in Disney-Orlando Disney-Florida.
They end phone calls there with: Have a magical day!
It's so sweet, it could be Hershey, Pennsylvania. In fact, Disney! should buy Hershey, now that we know it's for sale. They can have the chocolate factory AND another theme park.
(I cheated with this photo. This is a photo of the sign above the Disney Story in San Francisco, not in Orlando.)
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I had taken a seven AM flight from Reagan National through Atlanta to get to Orlando in time to catch some afternoon sun. My speech to the Florida Realtors Association was not until the next morning, so I had plenty of time.
Here's what the sky looked like on the way in from the airport:
You know, you can get a really bad burn even on a cloudy day in Florida, my mom always said. It looked like I was going to get to test that long-held theory.
The highway from the airport to Disney! World is a toll road. That should have tipped me off.
Along the way I spotted a sign for Best Buy so I got off. I didn't need anything from Best Buy - you never need anything from Best Buy, you just have to go in and check out the computer and electronics sections just to see if there's something you don't have, but should.
What I did need was a bookstore. My long experience in these matters is: Where there is a Best Buy there will be a Barnes & Noble or some variant on that theme.
Sure enough, there was a Borders, so I went in.
I am in the midst of reading through a series of British Naval novels by a guy named Alexander Kent.
I previously read the entire series of books by Patrick O'Brian. Mr. O'Brian past away about a year ago so that job is done.
Mr. Kent, as far as I know, is still alive and has just released book number 25 in the series. I was halfway through number 18 but, alas, it ended up in the seat pocket in front of me.
[To be honest, I just had a crisis in confidence. I typed "British Naval novels" but then wasn't sure whether Naval was spelled n-a-v-A-l or n-a-v-E-l. I had to do a thesaurus search on the A-l spelling to be certain I wasn't reading a series of British Belly Button novels, or is it novals?]
I had ordered numbers 17, 18, and 19 from Amazon prior to the Dog Days Tour beginning, so I had number 19 with me.
The good thing about reading a series is, the author has to catch you up on what has happened before to explain the characters' actions in case you are starting from the middle. So, in number 19 I learned what had happened in the second half of number 18: The Hyperion sank, and Vice-Admiral Bolitho rescued Lady Catherine from the prison into which she had been unfairly consigned by her husband and Bolitho's wife.
There. Saved you $14.95.
However, I had a lot of airplane rides left and I wanted to see if this Borders had the next books in the series.
They, indeed, had numbers 20 and 22 so I bought them both, got back on the highway, and made my way to Disney! World!
Shortly before turning off at the sign which says, "Disney! Downtown" I noticed an outlet mall on the other side of the highway. The sign which caught my eye was "Ralph Lauren."
After a significant number of years of marriage to the Mullings Director of Standards & Practices, I am trained to spot (a) outlet malls, and (b) Polo stores.
I thought, as it was cloudy, maybe I'd make my way back there and see what was doing later.
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The Disney! Coronado Resort is, in fact, a conference center. It is one of about 237 different hotels and resorts on the Disney! World property.
The other 236 have to be better.
In order to get into the Coronado Resort you have to pass a guard gate. There is a sign which says you have to show a room key to get into the lot where you can park to register.
This, in days gone by, would have been called a "conundrum." After the early 60's it was simply known as "Catch-22."
An old guy who is a refugee from being a door guard at the Abraham & Strauss department store on Route 3 in Paramus, New Jersey looks out at me.
I look in at him.
He asks me what I want.
I tell him I want to register.
He asks me my name.
I tell him. And spell it.
He looks on a list and, with a look that says, "I don't really believe that is your name but the lucky guess at a name which is actually on the "to-check-in" list means I have to let you through," opens the gate.
As I am driving off he tells me to leave my bags in the car.
This, it turned out, was good advice.
I follow the signs to "Registration Parking." This is a large lot a pretty fair distance from the front door of the hotel. There are those SUV-golf carts to haul people around, but they are all parked. In the good spots. The main entrance to the hotel is under construction so there is lots of Magical plywood and construction grade plastic.
I wend my way inside and join a line for check in.
There are lines everywhere in Disney! World. That is a feature of Disney! things.
When I finally make my way to the front of the line a very nice woman takes all my information - name, home address, home phone, work phone, credit card, photo ID, shoe and hat size, mother's maiden name in case I forget my password, and on and on.
I expected a guy in a faded red jacket to ask me to step aside and spread my legs so he could wand me.
It is now about 1:30 in the afternoon and the clouds show no signs of dissipating.
Then she gives me a card and tells me to call THIS number on any house phone and give them THAT code number and the person will tell me my ROOM number.
Huh?
Why can't you tell me my room number?
Because rooms aren't available until three.
Can't you, like, sprinkle pixie dust or something? Isn't this the MAGIC Kingdom?
She barely breaks a smile, but hands me a plastic bag with some American Express crap inside and tells me that is my gift for using Amex to check in.
I decide I need lunch anyway, so I ask where the restaurants are. She points to a sign which says, quite clearly, "Convention Restaurants."
I ask if there are any non-convention restaurants.
She says there are not.
I go to see what's to eat.
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Keeping in mind this is a CONVENTION hotel, I go to the first place, "Fernando's" and am told that they don't begin serving there until three which, as it happens, it the time when my room will be ready so that doesn't work.
I go to the end of the hall to find a restaurant which is open for breakfast and dinner but not - as they say - for lunch.
Excellent. Magical, almost.
The third - and, it turns out ONLY choice is a restaurant which is a multi-station buffet-style place which in and of itself is not a problem. What is a problem is the line to get in looks like the line for the two-dollar buffet at the Treasure Island in Las Vegas.
I go to the bell stand. They know everything.
I suggest it is not possible for a hotel which is built for the purpose of hosting conventions and, at which, a convention is actually being hosted at that moment, can have but one restaurant.
I am told, nevertheless, this is the case.
Ok. I decide to go out and (a) get something to eat somewhere else and while I'm at it (b) check out the Polo outlet.
Here's the shorthand: It is about 20 miles from the airport to the Disney! Coronado Resort and Starvation Diet Center. By the time my odyssey was completed I had 83 miles on the trip odometer, had not eaten, and could not find the outlet mall again.
Here's why:
It looked like, as the old joke goes, the only color I was going to turn during this trip to Florida was ... blue.
Here's the joke I told about this the next morning:
[Me] It is 20 miles from the airport to this place but I have 83 miles on my odometer. Not only that, but, in the rain I went past every chain restaurant known to man: Chili's, TGI Fridays, Red Lobster, Kinkos.[Someone from the audience] But Kinkos isn't a restaurant.
[Me] Let me get this straight. A REALTOR is taking me to task for an improper description of a piece of property!
The joke didn't work. No one asked about Kinkos, so I had to explain what someone was supposed to have said.
They paid me, anyway.
At three o'clock I found a phone which said, "Cast Members Only." Nevertheless I picked it up and dialed the front desk. What were they going to do, throw me into Disney! jail? Who would be my cell mate, the Hamburgler?
The person on the other line said my room wasn't ready yet. I said the person I had spoken to before I had ventured out into Hurricane Andrew said it would be ready at three.
Between three and four, the person said.
AM or PM, I asked.
Have a magical day, my butt.
I went back to the main check-in area and found yet another line. I went to the side of the counter and reached over to unlock the door so I could go into the back office and discuss this matter with someone who could fix it.
There have been times, at restaurants, when I have strolled into the actual kitchen to discuss how a dish had been ill-prepared with the actual chef.
In fact, if I get up in the middle of any dinner at any restaurant, even if I announce I am merely going to the men's room, The Lad will follow me to decrease the chances of me ending up on the wrong end of a meat cleaver.
An older gentleman scurried over and asked me if he could help me. I explained the problem and further explained I had no desire to wait in another line, and further explained that this was not my very first time checking into a hotel and I just knew that somewhere in this magical place there was a room ready.
He agreed and had me step to the end of the counter where I was given a card which would get me into an actual room which was, unfortunately, on the far side of the property but, if I had a full tank of gas, I should make it easily.
The signs which tell you where to go to drive to your room lead you to yet ANOTHER set of gates into which you have to insert your room key to get through.
In the room there was a television set. There were about seven channels on the cable system. FOUR OF THEM WERE DISNEY! CHANNELS.
Disney! Channel
Disney! Cartoon Channel
Disney! Travel Channel
Disney! Radio Channel (?)
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The next morning I gave the speech to the Realtors and described just about this entire series of events which, as it turned out, was greeted with many nods of agreement and understanding.
In my excitment to get to the Magic Gulag I had forgotten to pack a tie, so I went to store - which sold only Disney!
stuff - and bought this tie: 
Florida is, as you know, the state in which Jeb Bush is Governor. He is likely to run against former Attorney General Janet Reno in the general election. Even if the other guy, Tampa lawyer Bill McBride, beats Reno in the primary, Bush will tromp him, too.
So, I peppered my remarks with lots of Bush stuff including the fact that I first met George W. in 1979 in Iowa when his dad, then-Ambassador Bush, was running for the Republican nomination for President and George came into Iowa now and again to help out.
I asked if there were any former Iowans in the audience. Two people raised their hands. I said, "As you know, in the winter time in Iowa there's not a lot going on, so if there's a pig roast anywhere in the state, everyone shows up ... even the B'nai B'rith.
[Good Laughter]
"You know that joke doesn't work everywhere."
[Titters of Laughter]
"Like ... Iowa."
[Gales of Laughter]
My section of the program went from 10:30 am until noon and I had a 2:10 Flight, so I high-tailed it out of there and my Neverlost GPS thingie got me to the airport in plenty of time.
The plane was a Boeing 777. I was in first class which was configured for overseas travel, meaning the seats reclined flat and each seat had its own movie screen and a place to plug in your computer if you have the right connector which, of course, I do.
Unfortunately the flight from Orlando to Atlanta is only about 50 minutes, so you can't enjoy all the goodies available.
Not only that, but I fell asleep, so I didn't even figure out the TV screen.
The last thing I remember as the giant plane lifted off was the notion that Disney! World has more checkpoints than Berlin had in 1956.
"Mr. Disney," I shouted to myself, "Tear down this wall!
(Copyright � 2002 Richard A. Galen)