Orlando, Part One.

Denise and I flew out to Orlando Florida last Thursday night to join her British family at their time-share there. It's a once-a-year thing, them flyin' over, so we need to go and let her spend time with her brother and his family. That's about all the family Denise has left over there.

The trip to Austin to catch the plane was a nut cutter. We thought we were gonna miss the plane. But I left her off with the bag to check it and pick up the tickets, and we just made it in under the wire. I had to park my car in the long term parking, way out in the ass end of the lot, and then run about a mile back to the terminal. I told here, as we stood waiting a few minutes for our seats to be called, "Some bastard's gonna get to sit next to a sweaty fat man!"

From then on, the flights went well. On the flight from Atlanta to Orlando, I got to have a short conversation with a banker/former marine, who shared many of my own opinions about the current goings on in the world. That's always fun... finding out who it is you're sitting next to and what they've done in their life.

After landing in Orlando, renting a car (upgraded to a van at no additional cost!), and driving to the condo, getting in at about 1:30 in the AM, we visited for a bit and then Denise and I crashed on the couch/roll-out bed. The next morning, still a bit bushed from the trip, all of us piled into two cars and headed for Denny's.



Denise and I chose the "Moons Over My Hammy," with hash browns and a big glass of milk. Denise ordered the half sandwich, and a brace of sausage on the side. If you haven't tried one of these sandwiches, I suggest you do, It's WONDERFUL! It's a grilled ham and egg sandwich on sourdough bread, with Swiss and American cheese. Mmmmm, good.



Everyone ordered their breakfast of choice, and then we all set down to the task of finishing it all off. As I looked around, I noticed something about all my English companions, even Denise. Some things never change.



Notice how this gentleman is using his knife and fork, prongs down, using the knife to pile the mix of egg and hash browns on the BACK of his fork! Amazing eh? I'll never forget, being a kid in England in the late 1960s, going to a little local diner with my folks and seeing Brits use their forks this way for the first time. I think I said something to my dad like "Hey daddy, don't they know that if you turn it the other way, stuff stays on there better?"

I still remember sitting for a long time and watching some dude in a business suit, with a bowler hat on the seat next to him, trying to pile English peas on the back of his friggin' fork. No wonder we've grown to be a fatter than the Brits. Over time, I started using my knife like this, but they never got me to turn the fork up-side-down. Some things are sacred, after all.



After breakfast and a short trip to Wal Mart for provisions, we all joined back up out at the pool.



When I got there, I set up my base of operations right next to the Tiki Bar. I knew from last years trip that they have Yuengling on tap out there, and nice tables with umbrellas that will shade me from the direct rays of the sun... While I drink adult beverages and smoke fine cigars.



It turned out that there were many large clouds wafting by that Friday afternoon, which also did their part to shield me from the direct rays of the sun. Of course, this was inexplicable to the Brits, all of whom are sun worshipers from a dark, wet and dreary island in the North Atlantic. They lather themselves up and lay out to soak up each and every ray. I mostly avoid the lotion, preferring to swim for a bit, soaking up just enough heat to turn a darker shade of pink, and then I duck under the umbrella and relax in the shade... While I drink adult beverages and smoke fine cigars.



At one point, the guy who kind'a runs the pool area, doing drawings of people for $20, drug out a box of noodles (foam tubes that people use for flotation), and announced there was gonna be a "noodle race". All the kids, 10 and under, were invited to join in. The prize... a free drawing of the winner, done by this guy. The kid closest to the camera, the biggest kid in the group, easily won. It was rigged. One kid actually cried, having to be consoled by his parents. LOTS of therapy some day. LOTS.



Meanwhile, I sat back, blowing smoke and sipping, in this case, a Yuengling off the tap. At other times, it could just as easily be a Piña Colada. I'm easy, and I can be had. Martin, Denise's brother, had a tab goin', but a lot of the time I'd just pay for a drink myself. I hate livin' off other folks. Rankles me.

I'd ask Denise, who was usually relaxing at the edge of the water, "Are you ready for another one Daaaaling?" And she'd usually answer in the affirmative. I'd get up, get her her Crown and Sprite (they didn't have the proper makings of a 7&7), and walk it over to her. I gots to take care o' my wowman.



Now and then, between drinks and cigars, I'd decide to jump back in. I'd swim around, usually under water, and often as not I'd slide back up to Denise, grab a'hold of her and try to cuddle a bit. Can you tell in this shot she was tellin' me to put her ass down? That thar's my wowman.



That's me at my perch, FHB the Great, about mid way though happy hour (which lasted like three hours). Like the Egyptian head gear? I loves it! It works too, keepin' the sun off my bald spot, neck and shoulders. I see why they used to wear 'em this way, livin' in a friggin' desert and all. I can't remember how many drinks I'd had by then, but it was WAY over my usual consumption.

Well, that's enough for now. There'll be more on the rest of the trip later. If you want to see a few more shots, click here and head over to FlickR. later. Cheers!