Archive – Day 16
Sunday, April 25, 1993
Looking Back...
Everyone, meet Hypocrite Scott. Hypocrite Scott, meet everyone.
Here I talk about the tourists ignoring what they’ve come on vacation to see, and focusing all their energy on something else. That sounds familiar. That sounds like the modus operandi of this journal.
After our four days at Disney World, we drove over to the seashore and went to the Kennedy Space Center. All I could write about, though, was gators. And, seemingly, everything else but what we went to see.
“On a lighter note”, at least I wrote a lot this day.
I apologize for writing so little at Disney World. We had a lot of late nights. We are now on our way to Kennedy Space Center, so I have time to write during the day.
I see again how green Florida is. Thick forests (probably swamps) surround us on either side of the roadway. But there are no mountains. I learned the other day that Space Mountain is the third highest mountain in Florida. That’s disgusting. The highest point in the state is three hundred feet. That’s even more disgusting.
We have had this car for five days, and just now hit the half-tank mark. This Pontiac Sunbird gets excellent gas mileage. Of course, we have only been driving it to Disney and back. But no matter. A tank of gas lasting a week and a half is still pretty good.
It’s amazing how riled up and excited the tourists get about alligators around here. It’s no wonder places like Gatorland are so common in this area. At the slightest mention of the presence of one of those beasts, everyone works themselves into a frenzy in anticipation of catching a glimpse. You’d think Christ had returned with all the fuss, but it’s just an alligator.
We just visited Kennedy Space Center, which is where all the business with the alligators took place. People were more excited about seeing a gator on the side of the road than the Space Shuttle on its launching pad.
And I, in my dispassion, found little excitement in either.
We just passed a billboard for another alligator exhibit. We passed the place and it is a gift shop, called Danny’s, which is just about as tourist-friendly as possible. What is the big draw in alligators?
It’s half past five already! Criminentlies, how the day flies by and here we are on a heavily vegetated spit of land in the Atlantic, at least an hour from the motel. And still we press on.
I have just had a unique experience in waste removal. The toilet I just made use of came complete with a spring-loaded seat and — yes — a slot machine handle tastefully converted to a flusher. Now every pull can be a winner! Hopefully it has a 0% payback rate.
We are now driving down the beach in our rental car. I’m being sent out to videotape the family passing by.
This has been a comforting day. After constant Disney for more than half a week, it is physically pleasant to sit for hours on end. But of course, we have a several thousand mile train ride during which we will do nothing else. So we might want to save it until then.
Our laundry situation is getting desperate. We only have underwear for tomorrow — after that we’re on our own. So we have called out the heavy artillery. We have resorted to spending our precious bathroom time looking through the Yellow Pages. Desperate times call for desperate acts. War is hell.
On a lighter note we visit another park tomorrow. But this time we are shying away from Disney and steering our wandering stars towards Universal Studios. The glitz and glamour of Hollywood, once again hideously perverted for the sake of the tourist trade! Ah, Florida. My heart weeps for thee. Thou hast more gift shops than residential homes, more tourist-friendly t-shirts than stars in the heavens. Oh, you bleed from the heart and cry in pain, and all who answer the call seek to increase the wound. Crimes, horror; ah, the pain grows with each new sunrise.
On a lighter note we still have a week of vacation to go. I believe it is Tuesday that we get on the train, a three-part voyage which will take us to Washington, D.C., and finally to Chicago for a bittersweet reunion with my Superliners. It will be nice to see them again, but they are the chariots which return us to Reno and my life. The horrible life I tried to leave behind. The horrible life I did leave behind. And the horrible life I dread returning to. That is where my Superliners will take me. The agony and the ecstasy. Eat your cake and get it thrown in your face too.
Happy dreams!
