Kevin jumps catapillars . . .
I woke this morning to find my brother Kevin jumping caterpillars in Super Mario World, realizing that everything I know about Italians stems from the Mario Brothers. I sincerely need to travel more . . . or at least play more realistic games.
Realism of course has its good points. People after all create their own worlds every day, waking with either pessimism, optimism, or the strange amalgam, realism. Usually realists, I find, are merely a sub-set of pessimism, giving them a philosophical excuse to complain, criticize, and frown a lot. I am not ignorant of the pains and tribulations of reality; I merely refuse to give them any importance.
“In reality, the world have payed too great a compliment to critics, and have imagined them men of much greater profundity than they really are.” — Henry Fielding
“Deeper meaning resides in the fairy tales told to me in my childhood than in the truth that is taught by life.” — Friedrich Schiller
Disney Quest at Downtown Disney
The family and I have visited Disney World for years now so it always amazes me when we discover something truly new and unique. On the West End of Downtown Disney – the encapsulated title for the various shops, clubs, and restaurants open to the consuming public – Disney Quest hides like a shy behemoth. Alone the building, painted with bright kiddy-pool turquoise and standing nearly five stories tall, would attract attention anywhere, yet somehow nestled between the commercial monstrosity of the Virgin Mega-store and peaked dome of the Cirque du Soleil it appears almost demure in comparison, like a costumed juggler competing with the sensuality of the Vegas strip.
Dad took a few of the kids to Quest years ago during one stormy afternoon after spending most of the morning baking beneath the Florida sun.Like Floridian clockwork, thunder sounded at around two, and the kids convinced Dad to lead the expedition through the shops.An offer of modest recreation amid indoor air conditioning in the end, I believe, won him over. He returned quite exhausted, and when questioned he could only stutter, “It’s right up your alley, Murphey.”
We had stood waiting for nearly two hours when the Chewbacca left with the Ewok. The family standing two places ahead had finished taking their pictures – Chewy headlocking the unkempt guy with the Family Guy T-shirt while Sis and Mom giggled at the cameraman – when a Disney attendant shouted across the warehouse that their time had ended. Tiff fumed.
“Nooooo,” she whined.“No, soo close.We almost had him.”
Pat simply sighed with fatigue and crumpled against the wall like a discarded straw wrapper.“Two and a half hours in line.”
Ryan and I sighed.The Sith Lords further down the line seemed ready to leave too.