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Posted in rantings and ravings on August 26th, 2016 by skeeter

It’s easy to come back to the place of your youth and fall into a nostalgic reverie, long flashbacks to the good old days. You know, if they were actually good, not mostly memories of hard struggles and forlorn winter glooms. But looking back from these years future, though bittersweet, reveals a winding road you might not care to travel again, still, you wouldn’t want to have missed that detour.

Old age, so they say, brings wisdom. Youth, I say from experience, was a frenzied search for some kind of meaning, maybe any kind. The monks, and the zen masters, they removed themselves from the distractions of the world to contemplate, to synchronize with the OM, to hear the one hand clapping. When they had reached satori, when their breathing was one with the cosmos, when the koan of a tree falling in the forest without them there to hear was solved, they emerged back into the world, exemplars of purity of thought.

I wonder if they wished they had stayed. I wonder if what they learned in solitude and meditation was that they were one with what they had left, that the sound of the one hand was the same sound as the tree falling as the same sound as the OM as the same sound of their breathing which is the same exact sound of everyone’s breathing and that the journey we take is the journey they took without our distractions but the distractions are actually the one hand clapping after all.

Maybe they know the answer to that and I don’t. But … what I think, looking back from the road I started on, is the answer to that is that the road is never the same. We are never the same. The sound of the one hand clapping, don’t kid yourself, it sounds different the next time. Be glad to be IN the world, don’t try to BE your own hermetically sealed world. And that one hand clap, by the way, it won’t be the sound of applause, more like a sigh of relief. . Visit the Skeeter Diaries Site 

Remember way back when, before you had kids, how you and your spouse would go on romantic getaways to exotic destinations like Cancun or Paris or maybe Santorini? Ah, such relaxing vacations. But then you screwed up everything by deciding to start a family. Oh sure, having young kids doesn’t mean you can no longer go on vacations. It just means you can’t enjoy them.

By the time your kids turn seven, as summer vacation season approaches, they’ll begin the longstanding family ritual: complaining that every other child in the free world has been to Disney World – twice– “except for us! It’s no fair!” This is an excellent time to invite your kids to ask the Millers down the street if they might consider adopting them, since apparently “the Millers are way more fun parents than your mom and me.” I never particularly liked the Millers. I suspect the husband may be a metrosexual. But that’s a story for another post.

As surely as my Seattle Mariners will never win the World Series in my lifetime, it’s an equal certainty that sooner or later, you will buckle under the pressure of the relentless nagging and offer to take your kids to Disney World. And for that you have my deepest sympathy.

A trip to Disney World is the perfect vacation – if you like standing in line for hours at a time in sweltering 96-degree heat with 97% humidity, listening to your young children whining endlessly about how long all the waits for rides are. Usually by about 1pm on Day One you’re starting to seriously regret your decision to spend thousands of dollars that could have been much better spent on a brand new red Camaro instead. If this sounds like your idea of fun, then pack your bags and head to the airport for your very own Disney adventure. Then turn around and go back home. You forgot your four-year old, Ashley. Then strap Ashley and her adorable Disney-branded Lilo and Stitch backpack into her car seat and get ready for a not-so-memorable trip to visit Mickey and his pals.

Most families go to Disney World during summer vacation. And why not? The kids are out of school. And there’s no better place to be in July than central Florida – particularly if you enjoy the sensation of feeling like you’re on the surface of Venus. There is so much to see at Disney World. In fact, at last count, there were no less than seven different theme parks, including the Magic Kingdom, Epcot Center, Disney’s Animal Kingdom, Disney’s Hollywood Studios, two water parks, and, their newest attraction, Disney’s Magical World of Heat Stroke.

As you pull up to the Magic Kingdom, your kids will proclaim you the BEST PARENTS IN THE WORLD – a lofty status that will last for slightly less than an hour, after which you won’t be able to shut them up about how hot it is, how hungry they are and how you are undoubtedly the WORST PARENTS IN THE WORLD for forcing them to sit through The Hall of Presidents attraction when their friends’ parents would surely have done Splash Mountain instead.

Based on my own experience, I’d recommend that the ideal duration for touring around Disney World is approximately 90 minutes. Anything longer and you’re going to really wish you had used the time for something more enjoyable, like root canal surgery. Because you will be joined by over 100,000 other families today, be sure to plan on getting to the park early – ideally no later than 5 am. Otherwise, the closest lot you’ll be able to park in is Pluto 85 – conveniently located just two zip codes east of the park.

A better plan might be to take the Disney shuttle bus. It stops at every major hotel near the park. Just wait in front of your hotel for the next shuttle bus. It should be here in about 45 minutes. Then it’s just 30 minutes from your hotel to… the transfer station where you’ll board a second shuttle bus, which in roughly 25 more minutes will drop you off right at the main entrance to your Disney theme park. And within seconds after the bus leaves, you’ll realize you got off at the wrong Disney theme park. But don’t fret. The next shuttle will arrive shortly – in about 45 minutes.

By now, you may notice the time is already 11:15 am. So you better pick up the pace. Before you know it, your kids will start complaining they’re hungry. Not to worry. There are over 3,700 restaurants spaced at roughly 40-foot intervals throughout any Disney theme park. You can enjoy food that will appeal to every taste – so long as your taste is limited to burgers, fries, pizza, hot dogs, fried chicken, ice cream or, oddly enough, arugula salad with lemon-parmesan dressing. I know. Go figure. Personally, I recommend dining at the Country Bear Jamboree Saloon. The chicken there tastes surprisingly like chicken.

But the main reason kids love going to Disney World – other than to torment their parents – is for the rides. There are so many great rides to choose between. Should you start with Space Mountain? Perhaps Buzz Lightyear’s Space Ranger Spin? Or maybe The Pirates of the Caribbean? It really doesn’t matter which one you choose. They all will have one feature in common – a sixty-minute wait to get in.

You might want to consider a time-saving way to avoid the long lines by purchasing a FastPass. It lets you reserve in advance a set time slot for up to three different rides per day – all for slightly less than the cost of a year’s tuition at Stanford. But whatever you do, do NOT go on It’s a Small World. It is every bit as chirpy and annoying as it was when it opened in 1966.

Thankfully, Disney World has one ride that is well worth the wait – the ride back to your hotel in an air conditioned shuttle bus. It’s by far the most enjoyable ride you’ll have all day, I guarantee it.

That’s the view from the bleachers. Perhaps I’m off base.
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A Comment by J Overstreet

Your avatar
J Overstreet • 08/10/2016 at 04:03PM • Like 1 Profile

My child just went to Disney...only we sent her with someone else (see what we did there?!)

I got a buddy who claims he was the first Owner-Builder on Camano Island. The year was 1977, the same year I bought my shack. I met him 13 years later and we ended up building 3 sailboats together, one for each of us and one for his pal the building inspector who became my friend too. Ironically, I may be one of the last Owner-Builders in Island County. I don’t think my permit was ever signed off on so I may well be the last official O-B.

I guess maybe they figured the codes got too complex for us amateur housebuilders, all those R-factors for insulation and E-glass in fenestrations and X-factors for our marriages. Or maybe it was this: a permit for an Owner-Builder was next to nothing, something like $50 when I got ours. The county might’ve done the taX-factor and realized us hippies were costing them revenue. Maybe some of us built our own palaces to save the permit expense, but I would’ve paid full freight just for the right to build my own place the way I wanted. A few hundred bucks wasn’t gonna stop me.

I spoze we can still build our own Xanadu, nothing to stop us. Just have to disclose that a rank amateur threw the hammer and ran the saw, flashed the windows, shingled the roof, installed the electric and plumbing and if you’re the prospective buyer, best beware!!! The people at the county sheds told me I’d be a Total Idiot to apply for an Owner-Builder status. Boy, he read me like a book. A comic book, I’d bet.

By the time I got our permit, us Owner-Builders had to meet the same codes as any fly-by-night contractor, go through the same inspections, all the rigamarole as the Big Boyz. In other words, the government here doesn’t allow for hippie shacks or slam-bang cabins. We got to build our parents’ suburban homes. Might explain why kids just stay with their folks now — why bother building the same damn place twice?
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April 15:
An 87-year-old woman located at 11 Dandelion Place called police to report that her 16-year-old granddaughter Chelsea had run away. After a brief investigation, police were able to locate Chelsea in a tree. Chelsea, it turned out, was the woman’s 16-year-old calico cat. She does not actually have any grandchildren.

April 19:
A teenager was spotted throwing a rock at a residential window at 42 Eagle’s Nest Terrace. The rock missed the window but caused a slight dent in the downspout. The homeowner is not pressing charges since the suspect was later identified as his middle child Nathan.

April 21:
Police responded to an argument between a mother and her eleven-year-old son at Happy Hedgehog Trail. The exact nature of the dispute was not divulged, though it reportedly had something to do with the son being told he could not watch any more TV until he finished his homework.

April 23:
A resident of 219 Nothing-Ever-Happens-Here Way reportedhis lawn mower stolen and informed police that he suspected his neighbor with whom he’d gotten into a dispute over who
should win on American Idol. He called the police the next day to report that he found it – in his backyard shed, right where he’d left it. Claiming a “senior moment,” he reluctantly decided not to press charges against his annoying neighbor.

April 26:
Police checked in on a thirteen-year-old boy who had been shouting about how much he loved some girl named Natalie in his seventh grade class. He was apparently causing a disturbance
to the neighbors. Upon questioning, the boy admitted to consuming his very first beer and was feeling the effects of an alcohol buzz. He later threw up and apologized to his parents. No charges were pressed.

April 28:
A female high school student walking down North CrimeIs-Unheard-Of-Around-Here Drive was approached by a suspiciouslooking bearded man driving unusually slowly in a creepy looking
van and called police. After a brief investigation, police identified the creepy man as Barney Mueller, the local Good Humor Man, just making his usual rounds.

April 30:
Police responded to a call from the local IGA that two suspicious youths, aged 22 and 21, shoplifted several candy bars and a bag of Doritos. An hour later, police were unable to locate any of the candy or the Doritos, although both youths, when questioned, appeared to have suspiciously orange tongues.

See what I mean? I’m living in fear for my life here – or at least in fear for my snack food. I’ve half a mind to think about maybe eventually possibly locking my front door when we’re away for a few days. It’s gotten that bad. Please pray for my safety, won’t you?

Read more of Tim Jones’ humor every week at www.ViewFromTheBleachers.net