DISNEY PLANNING

DISNEY PLANNING

Mr. and Mrs. Cranky are spending the week in Disney World.  Mrs. Cranky loves Disney and is a Disney Club Member.  This week we took the Pa. Cranks and their two Crankettes.  My DIL loves Disney.

Surprise, surprise, this cranky old man does not love Disney.  It is not the worst place in the world, but to me a visit is one notch below eating glass on my top ten list of things to avoid.  I have learned, however, that it is best to just go and try to keep a happy face, or at least keep the bitching and moaning to a minimum. 

This year, when Mrs. C and the DIL put their heads together, I realize that this Disney thing is no simple trip.  NFL teams put less planning into their next game than these two put into Disney planning.

I don’t pretend to have any idea what they talk about, I just get up when they tell me, go where they tell me and follow them around the park as best I can.  DIL came with a several page game plan.  Each day is broken down into color coded blocks with where we will be and what we will be doing at any given time.  We have to cover four different parks, with hundreds of rides and shows.

We have wrist bands to buy stuff and verify fast passes.  Fast passes allow you to skip ahead of long lines.  We get three a day and how they are used involves a great deal of strategy.  Time of day, day of the week, popularity of the ride and distances to restaurants and transportation all play a role in the strategy.  Often fast pass decisions are changed via a phone app on the fly; it is kind of like changing a play at the line of scrimmage in football.  I let Mrs. C and DIL handle all of that.  They argue and debate, but I think it is part of the Disney fun.

To enter the park we can use our wrist bands, but we have “hoppers” from last year on the wrist bands that don’t expire, so we use a card which has day passes which do expire.  That is all I know about that, I’m afraid to learn any more.

I have to cut this short, I’ve just been informed that we will be up tomorrow at 6:00 so we can get to the Animal Kingdom and grab the Safari trip when the park first opens.  If we avoid the crowds we can save a fast pass for another ride.  I need to get my rest; it looks like a difficult day tomorrow.  Safari, “It’s a bugs Life,” Dino world, a Bird Show, lunch, “Nemo the Musical,” a river rapids ride, a roller coaster, and a few more events.  It is all carefully timed.  There will be no delay, no loitering, only three bathroom breaks all timed to be as we pass restrooms on the way to the next ride.  I saw the time line, I’ve seen the map.  It all looks very complicated.  I’m just going to lace up my sneakers and follow the leaders,  Captain Mrs. Cranky and Lieutenant DIL.

It is that or pass the glass and eat up.

CLING-ONS

CLING-ONS

My wife has a friend who has lots of what Mrs. C calls “Cling-ons.”  Cling-ons are people who have no friends and latch on to you if you are even the least bit nice to them.

Mrs. C had a few friends like this, but they have slipped by the wayside since she met her cranky old man. 

I am Teflon to Cling-ons.

Sometimes when we visit with her friend we meet some of her friend’s Cling-ons.  They are horrible people who talk only about themselves, usually about all their problems; illness, injury, bad kids, bad relationships, bad breath…they are simply horrible people.  It becomes difficult to even have a conversation with Mrs. C’s friend because the Cling-ons constantly butt in.

Mrs. C cautions, “Be careful, if you are nice, they will cling on you!”

Once befriended, a Cling-on will not let go.  They will call, they will visit, they will know every party that you attend, and they will be there. 

Once befriended the only way to rid yourself of a Cling-on is you have to be mean to the Cling-on.  You can’t be mean just once, no it is not that easy, you have to be very mean and consistently mean before a Cling-on will look for another host to share their misery.

Losing a Cling-on is not fun.  Most people don’t like to be mean, but Cling-ons will not graciously accept anything else.  They do not pickup on any signals that most people recognize as “This person probably does not want to be my friend.”  A Cling-on gives you two choices.  Be my friend and be miserable with me, or be so horribly mean that I will eventually move on.  A Cling-on relies on guilt.  You must ignore the guilt, be strong, and be mean.

I learned early about Cling-ons.  The nature of my father’s job had us relocate every few years.  I was the new kid at school every few years.  Cling-ons sense new kids in school like a shark senses blood in the water.  Perhaps this is where I developed my crankiness.  Snarls and frowns to a Cling-on are like garlic to a vampire.

Because of this, I am slow to be friendly.  I have to size a person up before I can open up.

I don’t have many friends, but of the few I do have, none are Cling-ons.     

It’s a Gubba! - a cranky re-run

It’s a Gubba!

This cranky re-run is from November 2012

Dear Mr. Webster,

I would like to introduce a new word to our lexicon.  Actually it is not a new word, it is an old one invented by my friend years ago.  If you need to give credit for this word, credit it to a Mr. Charles Widmer, aka Chuck, Wink, Ditmus and for the sake of humor in this blog…”Asshead.”  The word:

Gubba. Gu ba’ Plural: ginder gin der'

What is this word?  It is a noun meaning any little unidentified thing which can only be held between two fingers.

Years ago while working a summer job installing underground sprinklers with Ditmus, I encountered a tiny unknown object in our truck.

“Hey Chuck, What the hell is this?” I asked while holding up the tiny thing between my thumb and middle finger.

Charlie took one quick look and declared, “It’s a Gubba.”

“A what?”

“A Gubba, any stupid unidentified thing which serves no apparent purpose is a “Gubba.”

It worked for me, and it saved a lot of head scratching and useless identification.

If a sprinkler head was clogged, what caused the clog? A Gubba.

Something caught between your toes that was driving you crazy?  A Gubba.

I have not used this word in years.  What prompted me to submit it as a new entry to our lexicon?  When toddler sitting on Grandpa Joe Thursday I found myself using it again, and with great effectiveness.

“Pa Pa Joe, wha dis?”

“Hmmm, let me see Cole…oh it’s a Gubba, just throw it away.”

No need to figure out what the tiny thing really is, no need to explain.  Just “It’s a Gubba!” that seems to satisfy a toddler.

There are lots of Gubbas around a house that has toddlers; little things which might gross you out if you knew what they were.  Better to not even research and find out.  Just pick it up and flick it in the garbage.

“It’s a Gubba.”