Day 4 - Journey to the Mouse House

One thing has become very clear as we sojourn in Florida:

It doesn’t want us here.

Not me specifically, or hubs. Us. Humans.

Invading humans, and all of our idiotic decisions about the environment.

Florida is in a state of revolt, but not at the levels we think.

This apartment complex has a groundskeeping crew. But, uh, for what? There’s hardly any grass. The flowers and shrubbery are dead. The palm trees aren’t healthy. The “lawn” is crushed shell and coral. But still, every week, the crew comes in with their lawnmowers, and edgers, and leaf blowers, and blows the bits into the bay. For cleanliness.

Like the manatees need that rained down on them?

Stupid humans, especially of a Northern European extraction (waves hi, I am one), love to believe that we can conquer nature. Being trained as both an anthropologist and a biologist, I can say that’s total bupkus. All we can do is modify our environment till it fights back, and boots us out of the niche that we’ve desperately tried to carve out for ourselves.

Nature doesn’t like attitudes like that, and works hard to right the balance.

The fight’s on in Florida, and it’s a doozy. You can feel the pressure to leave, get out, and not come back.

If you have even shreds of decency, kindness, compassion, or empathy, you’ll feel it once you cross the state border. Disney numbs it a bit, but it’s still there, and hits again full force when you venture beyond the limits of the mouse ears.

So what’s the response?

Oh, a hurricane has wiped out blocks of homes? No problem, let’s build high-rises there instead!

No grass? Fine, let’s fiddle with the 1960’s era sprinkler system, and water the bay instead of what passes for grass! Plant wildflowers for our traveling butterflies? Why would we do that?

Rip out the dead and dying vegetation, so that we have pristine-looking grounds.

Speed through the No Wake zones, because the dolphins and manatees should just get out of the way.

Speed around like only Florida Man can, because what empathy?

Florida is now a series of emotional bubbles. Here’s a lovely park, but the other side of the street is decaying million-dollar homes abandoned by owners because hurricanes. MAGAts have taken over this trailer park, but this church and its congregation have put a sign on their lawn: RESURRECTION ISN’T A METAPHOR – IT IS A JAILBREAK. FREE IMMIGRANTS NOW.

You can feel the desperation of the immigrants. You can feel the fear of those forced to move. You can feel the rising terror of those in the tourist industry, looking for the crowds, and realizing they’re not coming. You can see the farmers’ quiet despair, knowing their way of life is already gone.

The snowbirds left early. The Canadian tourists look at us with contempt now, and went home. Many of them had homes in Florida, and they’re selling.

Roofs covered with FEMA tarps, rich and poor areas alike.

There’s only one insurance company that still does business in Florida, folx, and they’re denying claims left and right.

This is a state on the brink of collapse, and the state gommit ignores it. Will fire you if you mention “global warning.” Will ignore that the state is literally flooding at high tide now, and even I can see that it splashes over the sea wall in the bay. It didn’t do that a year and a half ago.

The hurricane and storm patterns are different.

The immigrants are not doing the scut jobs, because they took off rather than be arrested.

The orange crop is on the brink of total collapse. The few that are deemed saleable have a distinct bitterness thanks to citrus greening disease, an invasive disease spread by an invasive bug.

So. With all this simmering underneath the surface, we go to the biggest, (for now) most stable bubble of them all:

Disney. House of Mouse.

So, let’s start from the beginning: I’m an odd duck. What, my stories didn’t prepare you for that pronouncement? Sorry, maybe I should cushion the blow next time.

Disney, to me, is just there. Went as a kid, had a good time, went to Disneyland in Cali too, as a teen. Also had a decent time (Star Tours was better than Captain EO, there, I said it! Rotten tomatoes, line up on the left, pitchforks, queue on the right. Let’s do this tar and feathering in an orderly manner, yes?)

So, for me, this is looked at as a chance to finish up the squishie collection for lake Buena Vista by getting the last six machines I need.

Oh, and look for hidden Mickeys. That’s fun, too.

Our friend? She’s in it for the details, and the rides. And I have to give it to her, she’s right too. It’s the small things that make being here so enjoyable, so welcoming. If you’re polite, friendly, and treat the staff well, they will bend over backwards to help your stay be as magical as possible.

Some of those details make your stay so, so much easier.

Need a space in the parking garages? There are LED lights over each space, in a bright red or green. With just a glance down the aisle, you can figure out if one is available by looking for the green ones.

Or the footprints leading to a statue. Or the unusual things tucked into corners, to catch your eye as you’re waiting in line. Or the construction of a building, to give you a feel for a place.

So, when I say we went to Disney, it’s going to be a weird visitation.

And our friend may have a season pass, but we don’t.

And we’re here for the last dangling squishies… taunting me…

So. Not your normal Tour de Disney. Not even close.

We started with some of the high-end hotels around Disney, but that aren’t part of the Disney franchise. One of the squishie apps says each hotel has a squishie machine, but after two strikeouts in a row, I said we should focus on the ones in Disney that we knew we needed. Off to Disney Springs, then.

If you don’t have a ticket to Disney, this is how you get in to a merch area to buy All the Things.

You can also take take the various transports to other areas, like the resorts and boardwalk and such, that don’t need a ticket. There are walking trails, merchandise, eateries, merchandise, live music, and merchandise.

And squishies!

Come out of security, turn left… aaaaand, snag! Ha! Got you, Marvel squishie set! Oh, hey, there’s a set next door too in the Star Wars store, do I have them? … Don’t matter, snag! Ha haa!

But here is where things break down a little.

On the way to the next one, at the Town Square Firehouse, something in my leg felt.. off.

Crud.

My body has a bit of a tendency to break down when I get excited.

But, over to the Town Square Firehouse, turn the crank, klunka klunka klunk-

Three out of four. Where’s the fourth?

The machine ran out of penny slugs!!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!

(breathes heavily like Darth Vader, since I quoted him)

Well, it is what it is. And I need to sit down, because something is definitely wrong with my leg.

Not the one that was messed up years ago, no, of course not, the other one. It feels like I have a bone out of place in my foot!

Well, that puts a lot of Planz ™ awry. Our friend wanted to take us by skyway over to one of the resorts, so I can get those squishies too. Grumble. Seriously, body, whyyy??? Today, of all days???

Well. I found a shaded table to sit at, and hubby and friend went off to get food.

Now, though I was quite put out, I decided to use this time to people watch. My observations were combined with my own outsider view of Florida, to give you my personal perspective that opened this story.

Disney Springs is a mix of people. Since it’s open to the public, some of the locals like to use it as their personal pub crawl. Security is tighter than the other parks, where they know who’s there and why.

Who’s there for official merch? For their kids? For a chance to get out and have fun? A field trip? One of the official things going on, but given time to grab lunch?

Who’s there to contribute to the delinquency of minors??

That would be me…

Look, the duck has to be younger than my fifty-something. She came scouting for dropped food. Now, I didn’t drop the chunk of soft pretzel next table over, but I certainly pointed it out to her. And she saw my under-the-table gesture, and hustled over, and proceeded to rip that thing apart right in the center of our tables. Pics abounded.

And this female boat-tailed grackle cruised in regularly from a nearby nest to check for goodies.

Once I inhaled my salad (wah! Want the olives! Sooo many olives! So tasty! Want them all!), we gimped back to the car to continue the squishie hunt via car. Off to Riverside Port Orleans.

Details…

Oh, yeah, and squishies. We got to chatting with some of the actors (no matter what job they have, all the Disney workers are called actors.) One of the gentlemen, a former teacher, chatted with us extensively about the masks, the hidden Mickeys, and life in general at Disney. Very cool! And we hunted for the hidden character, which earned us a button.

From there, over to Winter Summerland (mini golf) and Blizzard Beach (water park). Now, here’s where being nice helps: our friend’s Disney pass doesn’t have water park access, but she asked very very nicely at the mini golf, and they were escorted to the gift shop in the water park to get the squishies there! Hubby went with our friend to do the grunt work of paying and cranking, and our friend went because she’s got the pass. These people know their squishie fiends, that’s for sure. Some work there – our friend’s met them, and they trade information.

Oh, yeah, and a Hawaii plate in the parking lot. We got Alaska on the drive to Disney, and even got a bonus Alaska on the way home!

I was scanning the squishie site while they were cranking for me, and I discovered that not ALL the non-branded hotels were squishie-less – the Wyndham had a set! And that would complete my squishies!!! So off we went – to the wrong Wyndham. Whoops. Well, off we drove to the other, got BOTH sets there, and found a hidden Mickey! (Sounds of squeeing, wishes she could dance to the squishie song she just made up)

Then, our friend says she wants to show us one of the resorts, because details:

WOW.

Details!

Oh, yeah, and there’s a wild animal exhibit out the “back doors.”

But we haz a tired, so it’s time to make the two-hour trip back to base. Food, relaxing, driving into sunset, you know, all the things that give one an exhaustion at the end of the day. Funny, there wasn’t any traffic going home, either. Totally rattled our friend, who is used to all sorts of nonsense on this road.

I don’t even recall what we had for dinner. We were pretty wiped out. Maybe just nibblies? Carrots, cheese chunks, hard boiled eggs. For lunch we’d had tapas, bikini paninis (three tasty but salty cheeses), and I had my salad AND ONLY FOUR OLIVES. Wah.

And, we figured out late why my foot was hurting – I have a massive blister! (CHF combined with diabetic neuropathy is no joke, folx, I swell up at the drop of a hat.) I will keep an eye on it, and take it easy for the next few days.

Time to zonk. Tomorrow, hubby and I brave Tampa alone, while our friend travels up to Tarpon Springs for a massage.

Ahhh, breeze, zzzzz….