I'm a Greased Wheel and Life is My Lubricant

Well, stick a reed in my mouthpiece and blow me like a tuba. That was a test... I know that a tuba doesn't have a reed. Only woodwinds have reeds. Duh... I'm a tuba with a woodwind mouthpiece. Blow me already...  Here I sit, an individual in total anonymity in the epitome of tourista-land, Disney World. You know what? I'm diggin' it. I could get used to this. Right now, my lily-white ass is perched upon a stool at a small bistro table beside a swimming pool. To my left sits a cup of  dwindling Charro Negro ... tequila and Diet Coke, for the uninitiated ... reggae music peppered with 80's classics regale my ears and psyche. Better still, there are no clouds, no snow, no wind and no worries. This is my sanctuary, this is my heaven.

I rediscovered my heaven yesterday while rediscovering Hell ... Hell, being a Disney theme park during Christmas week ... the climax of my visit to hell being the portion of the Great Movie Ride attraction... the moment of passing through the set of the movie 'Alien' and the alien spitting goo into my face from above as the tram passed below. I had no clue that my ex-wife had a seasonal job at Disney... my inner snark is bursting at the seams.

Word of mouth suggested that there were in excess of 57,000 people in this one park. Twelve spoke english, 2000 were not asian and all but three were assholes who left all civility and manners in their rooms at Wilderness Lodge. Now, don't get me wrong ... I like people. I am a people. I only have an aversion to being a victim to 56,997 other people and their individual quirks and mannerisms. All at the same time ...

I'm not perfect, by any means. But, I'm a helluva lot closer to being acceptable to a civilized society that most who broach the gates of a Disney theme park. Mickey Mouse is a mesmerizing sombitch, lemme tell ya. To claim, "Hee Hee! It's the happiest place on earth!" while enduring 180 minute wait times in line for a two-minute ride and commanding $10 for four small Diet Cokes... yeah, that mouse is fuckin' happy alright. Don't even get me started on those individuals pushing strollers and their assumed right of way mentalities or the ones with a fast-food addiction that has caught up to their slowing metabolisms that require that they now pilot the 'blubber buggies'.... hate me if you will... but the truth is a big, fat bitch.

In any case ... the raping of my wallet and dehumanizing of society aside, I'm in a good place. I'll tell ya why ... I'm away from my 'reality' of home and awash in my 'reality' of self. Sometimes it takes nothing more than a change of scenery, a slap in the face, even an overwhelming sense of disdain for one's own feelings of self to bring you back to who you are and what you need in order to grow.

As I sit upon this stool, I reflect upon my thoughts and mindset that I had only a few days ago in my familiar surroundings at home ... blase... routine... complacent. And now, I listen Duane Eddy and his magic guitar and step back into myself... in one brief moment I discard the negativity that has consumed me and see that, yeah, I'm home. Home, being that I'm in my element.

Believe it or not, I did not speak harshly to anyone, even when I was stepped upon by oversized feet ... even as I was purposely rammed in the calves by baby strollers ... I surprised even myself. I simply smirked and possibly grunted ... shit, I must be getting old. Or, maybe, just maybe, I realized that my happy place is in the middle of a throng of chaos. Maybe, just maybe, my chaos is the quiet and compacency of a quiet life ... The conundrum? How the two shall meet ... I'll find that intersection of chaos and meaning, of that I'm certain. I'll return to Virginia and face the 'reality' I left behind but I'll face it with the a mentality I thought I'd abandoned... or a mentality that I thought had abandoned me.

But, I'm not bringing my enlightened ass back to Disney during Christmas week ever again. There is only so much civility and sanity that I can afford to spare ... That squeaky mouse and his goofy cronies got their message across to me ... the happiest place on earth is where you are and who you are. And, if I could kidnap that big-eared bastard I'd take him to Virginia, put him in a duplex in Sterling, VA and have him pay for every lap on the gerbil wheel.

Ok, so maybe that's a stretch. After all, I'm only a man sitting upon a stool at a pool bar... a man with a skewed mind and a disdain for humanity's loss of humanity ...
Blow me ... I'm a tuba.