12/6/14
Orlando, Florida
The last time I was in Florida, 8 months ago, I began publishing this
Travelogue. My first entry was about
what I called Enjoyment and Fulfillment Values.
I was tired, and it was late at night.
I was not happy with my work, but I published it anyway. The blog had gotten off to a rocky
start. What I did not know at the time
was that that concept, enjoyment versus fulfillment values would be a defining
theme for not only this Travelogue but for the very way I travel, for the way I
live my life even.
When I asked my
girlfriend to choose where we would go for our December trip, I named two
options: Louisiana and Orlando.
Louisiana represented fulfillment value.
There was a newly designated World Heritage Site there, a site I had
visited before it had its WHS status. It
would be a trip purely designed around a plaque and a stamp, fulfillment
value. That is not to say that we would
not have enjoyed ourselves in New Orleans, but that was not why I suggested
Louisiana. Orlando, on the other hand,
represented pure enjoyment value. There
would be no plaques, no stamps, no rushing to get to a VC before it closed or a
State Capitol before nautical twilight began.
It would be about the two of us, in the most magical place on Earth,
having fun.
These were the thoughts
that occurred to me last night, around 2 AM, as I smoked my Bolivar before I
went to sleep, the perfect conclusion to a wonderful evening. We had landed, not quite having slept on the
plane, but certainly having rested. We
were awake and refreshed. The last time
I had gone to Orlando was two and a half years ago, during what I like to call the
most wonderful summer of my life. It was
the summer I had met Kayla. It was the
summer that had finally and completely ended the depression that had lasted my
entire 20s.
Now, I am happy. That summer, I was happy. A year prior to that trip to Orlando, I was
not happy. Well, anyway, the last time I
was here, I had a magical evening. I put
on my dinner jacket and my favorite shirt, and I headed out for a night on the
town. I had dinner at Norman’s,
Orlando’s premiere restaurant, and then I went to Corona’s Cigar to smoke a
ridiculously priced cigar and some very expensive liquor. It was worth every penny, and I loved every
moment of it.
How could I possibly
recreate the magic of that evening on my return? Travelling with the love of my life was sure
to be a good start, but she doesn’t smoke cigars. Would she want to come to a cigar lounge with
me? When would we go? Norman’s was closed for a private event
tonight, and we got in too late last night to go, so that was off the
table. It would be late, and we would be
tired after dinner tonight, anyway, so heading to Corona’s tonight hardly
seemed the best idea.
Why not just hit
the ground running? I asked her if she
was up to going to Corona’s last night, and she agreed to sit outside and drink
while I smoked my cigars. Perfect. They had outdoor seating there, and the
weather was wonderful. That was exactly
what we did. Our taxi driver kept
talking about his “new girlfriend” and how he was rushing to see her right
after he dropped us off, texting her at every red light. The driver was in his 60s, and he was
admittedly acting like a schoolboy with his first crush. We got a laugh out of that.
As soon as I walked into their massive store,
a collection of every cigar you can imagine, I knew we had made the right
decision. The plaque could wait a few
months. I bought a nice selection of
cigars for me, a mix of limited edition cigars I had not seen before and some
of my old favorites. The masterpiece of
it was, quite fittingly, a Fuente Fuente OpusX A. Last time, I had a different OpusX, similarly
priced. Aliyah asked me the cigar was
really worth that much. With my first
puff, I knew that it was. I ordered a
glass of the world’s finest cognac, Hennessy Richard, followed by a 28-year-old
version of my favorite scotch, Talisker.
Aliyah had two double vodka sodas.
The total bar tab, including tax and tip, was more than the cost of our
hotel for two nights, and we are staying at a top notch hotel. With every sip, the magic was back, even more
magical now that I was here with her.
We
headed to the hotel, this time the driver being an Egyptian who was not
hesitant to engage Aliyah in a socio-political debate. I kept my mouth shut. We got to the hotel, checked in, and headed
up to our room. Every Embassy Suites
looks pretty much the same, and it is a great hotel choice. We got a smoking room, and there is a
separate living room and bedroom, allowing me to smoke while she sleeps without
disturbing her. After we got ready for
bed, I lit up a Bolivar. I offered to
smoke in the living room, but she was fine with me smoking in bed, which was
good because, by the time I finished the cigar, I would have been too tired to
walk the 20 feet from the couch to the bed.
It was after 2 AM at that point, and I had woken up at 7 AM. I put the cigar in the ashtray and fell right
asleep, ending the cigar a little prematurely.
Around 6 AM, I woke up, hot, and unable to go back to sleep with the
smell of a cigar butt next to me. I
disposed of the cigar, lowered the thermostat to 68, and went back to
sleep. Two hour later, I woke up,
shivering. It was too late to go back to
sleep at that point, but I put the thermostat back up to 70. I had a great plan for the morning, pretty
much down to the minute, but, when you travel, you can never always count on
everything going to exactly according to plan.
We’d get ready, be down for breakfast by 9 AM, finished by 9:30 AM, I
would light up a cigar and write this entry while she went to the pool. We’d be on the 10:30 AM bus to Universal, and
we’d then spend a magical day there.
She
was not feeling well. The plan would not
hold. That’s okay. I didn’t care about breakfast, my cigar, even
visiting Diagon Alley. I just cared
about her feeling better. She got back
in bed and told me to go have breakfast.
At 9 AM, I did exactly that. I
got myself a nice hot breakfast and coffee.
I went to the table. I then
realized I had forgotten something: utensils.
I went to get my utensils, and then I remembered the chopsticks
challenge. I just didn’t care at that
point. I didn’t want to leave my food to
get cold. I didn’t want to go back
upstairs. Most of all, I didn’t want to
go into the bedroom and disturb her to get chopsticks. I ate with a knife and a fork. The meal was delicious. I came upstairs and lit up a Winston
Churchill and proceeded to write this entry, which I will now close so that we
can try to make the 10:30 AM bus.
“Did you have fun today?” For
once in my overly analytical life, for once after an intense day of travel, for
once lying in bed at 10 PM, the answer to that question was clear. I did not have to hesitate so much as a
moment before answering in the affirmative. What follows will make it perfectly clear why
I answered that way, why there could be no doubt of how much fun I had, why the
enjoyment value of this trip far exceeded anything we could have achieved in
Louisiana.
Reader, I strive to live an
entire rational life. I don’t believe in
the supernatural. I don’t believe in god
or anything cannot be observed with the five senses or rationally deduced. I was on an awful first date with someone
about a year ago, and she asked if it was sad that I had nothing to be
believe in. I responded that I believed
in Newton’s Laws of Motion, and there was no second date. Now, my beliefs are the same, but my present
relationship, every once in a while, for a brief moment, causes me to doubt my
atheism. A year ago we were just two
people who Liked all of each other’s Facebook posts. The very fact that we are here together, that
we fell in love, that the stars magically aligned and that things somehow
worked out, it’s a lot, and, no matter how rational I am, I am sometimes forced to
consider the thought of some kind of divine intervention.
There is another area of my life of my where
I allow in a little irrationality, and it has to do with the pipe I am now
smoking. For 363 days of the year, I
rationally know and understand that the reason I have Christmas Pipes is
because my mother orders them from Steve Monjure and has it shipped to her and
wraps it and puts on the hearth for me to open up Christmas morning. Hell, I even provide her with Steve Monjure’s
contact information. That said, on
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day I actually believe that maybe Santa left it for
me, and I will harbor no affronts to my delusions. I leave milk and cookies and a note for
Santa. On December 23rd, I
know that my mother has purchased the pipe and will leave it for me no matter
what. On December 24th, I
believe that Santa needs the note and the milk and the cookies, or I might not
get the pipe.
Today, I allowed myself a
similar irrationality. As we were walking
through “Diagon Alley” at Universal Studios, I actually believed that magic was
real. Well, of course, the first thing
to do would be have a wand choose me. It’s
an overpriced piece of wood, how could it possibly choose me? Wouldn’t I just be choosing one that I
liked? No, today, magic would be real,
and I would suffer no affront to my delusions, no more than I would suffer an
affront to my delusions on Christmas morning.
When we walked into Diagon Alley, it was as magical as I expected, and I
truly felt as if we had left London and entered another world. They had a little skit where they choose one
kid from the group and have a wand choose him.
Everyone else was left to their own devices to choose their wand. No, that’s not the way it’s supposed to
be. The wand chooses the wizard. Well, I just kept holding different wands in
my hand until I found one that felt right.
In the end, I got a nice Willow 5” wand.
I texted the one person who would understand the importance of a wand choosing
me, the biggest Harry Potter fan I know, the person with whom our friendship
was at least 50% built on our mutual love of Harry Potter. She was as excited as I was about the
wand.
The funny thing is, I walked
around Diagon Alley with my wand out the whole time, but wizards don’t do
that. To walk around a crowded street
with your wand out would be the same as a Muggle walking down Fifth Avenue
holding a gun. You keep your wand
holstered until you need it. We then
went to Gringott’s to get some coins, and I also got a bunch of other
souvenirs. Having had a big breakfast, I
wasn’t particularly hungry, but, as of late my appetite has returned, and I
knew this would be a day where I was constantly hungry. We got ice cream the famous ice cream parlor
from the books, Florean Fortescue’s. She
got some hard-packed ice cream, and I got the specialty soft serve flavor:
butterbeer. It wasn’t particularly good
ice cream, but it was magical. We sat
around while we ate the ice cream, enjoying the atmosphere and scenery.
After we finished and took our pictures with
Hagrid’s motorcycle, we headed to Knockturn Alley. I was scared.
I wasn’t scared because it was dark or because I envisioned it being
some kind of haunted house. I was scared
because Knockturn Alley is a scary place, even for Hagrid, and I was still
choosing to believe everything was real.
This time I had my wand out and at the ready. Aliyah thought that I was just joking with
her about being scared. I was not. Some woman dressed as a witch walked right up
to me and stared me down. I looked her
back in the eye and pointed my wand at her until she walked away. I assume she was in costume, but, for the
moment, I believed it was real.
We then
took the “Hogwarts Express” across to Hogsmeade, going from “King’s Cross” in “London”
to “Hogsmeade,” just like they do on the books.
When we got on the train, I asked the conductor if he had any chocolate
frogs. He missed a beat, but he was
quick to recover, saying that he thought the “trolley witch” would be by
soon. Then the Dementors came. I grabbed my wand, ready to repel them if
need be. I knew the charm, and I had no
doubt of my ability to conjure a Patronus, all I had to do was think back to a
certain Mets game 4 months ago, and my Patronus would have repelled a hundred Dementors. Of course, it was all pretend, and I heard a
voice say, “Expecto Patronum,” and the Dementors left.
We were soon in Hogsmeade, and it was all
decked out for Christmas. I excitedly
texted Kayla a picture of it, and she burst my bubble saying it was decorated
like that year-round. Where’s the fun in
that? The first thing we did was get
butterbeer. Well, I got a butterbeer,
while she opted for a bottled water. It
was basically cream soda with whipped cream.
I know my body well enough to know that sugar makes me crash, but I also
knew that one soda would not be the end of the world. We walked around, and then we decided to go
on a ride. It was an inverted roller
coaster, the first that Aliyah had ever done.
I had been on a bunch with Stuart, so it was nothing new. We screamed the whole way through. Our next stop was to get candy and chocolates
from Honeydukes. I finally got my
chocolate frog.
Now I was hungry, and I
didn’t want to just have more sugar. We
went to the Three Broomsticks. I got
fish and chips and another butterbeer.
Well, this I knew would be too much.
I would soon have my sugar crash.
I holstered my wand in my belt, and we sat down to enjoy our meals. After we were done, I asked Aliyah if she
thought I could clear our table by chanting, “Evanesco.” She burst my bubble by saying that magic wasn’t
real. Either way, the magic had run its
course, and I just wanted to light up my OpusX and move one. We bussed our table and headed towards
Jurassic Park. At this point, my phone
battery was an issue, and I would soon have to start taking drastic power
saving measures.
We got to the big Jurassic Par welcome sign, and I kept repeating "Welcome to Jurassic Park" in my best John
Hammond impression. I was starting to
crash, and I wanted my cigar. I wasn’t
yet ready to explore Jurassic Park.
There was a wonderful smoking area with a beautiful view of the
lake. That was where we sat while I
smoked my OpusX. I put my phone in ultra
power saving mode, which meant no data, no camera. Her phone was practically dead, too. It meant that we were forced to put our
phones away and focus only on the scenery.
The first place we went was the VC, which was interesting, but I wanted
to explore the park. After we finished
the gift shops, that was when we started having fun. We took silly pictures in the photo booth,
and Aliyah got her braided. We got lost
and wandered around. We simply enjoyed
being with each other enjoyed being where we were. The next thing we did was the water
ride. That, too, was fun, not merely “enjoyable,”
but truly fun. We wandered around the
comic strip area and the Dr. Seuss area.
The sun was setting, and the time for our concert was approaching. I wanted to take one last picture at the
entrance sign before my phone died. We
got the picture right at sunset or maybe early into civil twilight, and,
somehow, my phone managed to survive the evening by keeping it on ultra power
saving mode. We went to the Mannheim
Steamroller concert, which was amazing, and it included a rendition of “How the
Grinch Stole Christmas.” Afterwards, we
headed to Emeril’s for dinner. In
retrospect, we probably would have been better served by going to the Hot Dog Hall
of Fame or the BK Whopper Bar.
We were
both spent, and neither of us were in the mood for a romantic dinner. I ate the food because I was starving, but I
didn’t really enjoy it, and we couldn’t even come close to finishing our bottle
of Cote d’ Rhone. I just wanted to have
my cigar and go back to the hotel. We
both almost fell asleep at the table. I
lit up my small Avo, and we headed towards the shuttle, which could not come
too soon. I would have been quite
content passing out the moment we walked into the room, but I needed to take a
shower first, which I knew would wake me up.
There was another problem. This
entry and my Christmas Pipe. Not doing
the entry was not an option, nor was not smoking the Christmas Pipe. I had a great plan. I’d take a nap, knowing that if I fell
straight asleep before 10 PM, I’d wake up before midnight, so I’d be able to
write this entry, but, of course, after the shower I couldn’t fall asleep,
though I was still too tired to properly write this entry. I fell asleep around 10:30 PM and woke up an
hour later. Perfect. As quietly as I could, I grabbed my computer
bag and headed out into the living room.
4 months ago, as I flew to Seattle with Stuart, I wrote how there was no one in my life whose feelings and
comfort I valued above my own and that how I hoped that would soon change. It was with Aliyah in mind that I wrote those
words. It was tonight that I realized
that the truth of it. I was hungry, but
I knew that there would be no way for me to go back into the bedroom and
retrieve my chocolate frog without disturbing her. Instead, I put my Idina Menzel Christmas
Album on at the lowest volume, lit up my 2008 Christmas Pipe, and proceeded to
write this entry, which I will now close so that I can publish it and get back
to sleep.
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