Yes, Lost Tourist, Please Cut Me Off

As I was driving down I-4 the other day, I was reminded of the entirely new set of driving rules I had to learn in Florida. Being from Chicago, I was a mix of assertive and polite. You won't survive on the Dan Ryan expressway if you're a wimp, but you have to offset that with occasionally letting some poor slob in when he's desperate to change lanes or waiting to pull out of a driveway. I also learned to slow down a bit and allow people to merge onto expressways. Then I move to Celebration and the rules were suddenly turned upside down.

In Florida, it's almost never a good idea to let someone get in front of you when they make a sudden decision, turn on their blinker (or not), and try to force their way over. That's because they're usually not just someone who was sleeping at the switch and suddenly realizes they're in the wrong lane. Instead, they're most likely a totally lost tourist, and if you let them in, you'll be going 5 m.p.h. with occasional abrupt stops as they search desperately for whatever it is they've suddenly decided is on your side of the road. I'm more likely to let a local-looking vehicle in; when it's a Chrysler convertible with "Sunshine State" plates (vs. a county), they're not going to wedge their way in front of me without a crowbar.

I've always wondered what the big deal about getting over right now is anyway. The incident that brought this all to mind happened on I-4 approaching the Sand Lake Road exit. There was still almost two miles to go before the exit, yet some dude decided he had to get over right now and it had to be in front of me. Uh, no. A lack of planning/knowledge/whatever on your part doesn't constitute a crisis on mine. He hovered parallel to me with his blinker on, and I studiously maintained just enough space to show him that it wasn't going to happen. Why bother me? Choose some other car to cut off. Get in front of some other tourist and you can be lost together.

Eventually he gave up with a mile still to go. He of course had to honk his horn in irritation before dropping back and moving over; there was plenty of space a couple cars behind me, but people don't seem happy unless they're actually getting in front of someone. As a cognitive therapist, the horn thing always cracks me up. I suppose the honker sees it as an "up yours" sort of gesture, but it makes me laugh because it shows me that they're giving me power over them...the power to really piss them off. Why would they want to give that to a total stranger? Just drop back, merge in elsewhere, and don't waste time stewing about it. Oh well, the "stewers" are more entertaining.

I do try to be polite on the expressway, but sadly it just doesn't work in Florida most of the time. When I'm in the right lane and I see people merging, I slow down to let them in. The majority of the time they see this and slow down too. I slow down more...so do they. They just don't get the concept of "I'm slowing to let you in. I swear it's not a trick." Eventually I just give up and floor it, leaving them in my dust.

Politeness aside, I have utterly no pity for the people who get on a clearly marked tollway, then exit at an unmanned booth and just sit there...and sit there...and sit there...as though it's going to either disappear or coins are going to start falling from the sky like manna from Heaven. This is particularly bad on Osceola Parkway, where I've been in three car backups because some tourist is panicking. Suck it up, dude, and deal with the ticket 'cause you made a stupid choice and have no other option.

I've actually given coins to tourists at the Celebration Avenue toll plaza before I had my SunPass (which has its own lane at that exit, thank goodness). One desperate U.K. family even ran back to my car and offered me some type of British coins in exchange for quarters, but I just thrust some money at them and refused their offering...I'm not too likely to be on a British toll road in the near future.

It is indeed a different world when you're driving in the Tourist Mecca of the U.S. If you're ever looking lost on I-4 or 192 and see Kitt (my Saturn Vue) in the next lane, don't look for any sympathy if you feel the sudden need to be where I am. I've got places to go, and I prefer to get to them at a pace a little faster than 5 m.p.h.

Fire in the Sky

When we lived in Chicago, I was interested in the space shuttles as most Americans are, but I never felt a personal connection. All that changed when we moved to FL where we can see the launches from our front yard. When you see it live, there is a deeper sense of connection. And when you get to see the fiery spectacle of a night launch, it's even better.

Last night, the shuttle went up just before midnight, and I ran out to the park in front of my house to view it. I was suprised that no one else came out. Sure, it was late, but it was a Friday night. For launches, there is usually a little knot of neighbors craning up at the sky. But on this evening I was all alone, watching for the ball of light. It started with an eerie orange glow that backlit the area behind the houses on our street. All of a sudden the fireball itself was in view, rocketing skyward. At first it was flame-colored, but then it died down to white. By the end it looked like a star moving slowly and steadily up into space.

As I watched the shuttle, I was struck by the awe of 1) the fact that we actually send people into space; and 2) actually being able to see it from my home. I did see one other night launch, and that one was even better as I was on a cruise ship near Cape Canaveral. We do a lot of Disney cruises, and they sail out of Port Canaveral. One December a few years ago, a night launch was scheduled for the first night of the cruise. Instead of immediately steaming towards our destination, the captain kept the ship in the general vicinity so we could all see the launch. At the appointed time, everyone streamed from the dinner tables out onto deck. I'm surprised the ship didn't tip over to that side! Seeing the actual launch pad and watching the shuttle go up from the very first moment of the launch gave me the shivers. It was so beautiful, like a mini-sun heading up into orbit.

This wasn't quite as exciting, but it was still a thrill because it was the first time I've watched a live night launch from home. It's so surreal to watch that lightball and realize that there are people in it. By the time I went in, the TV was saying that the shuttle had passed the point of no return. It continued on its way for what will hopefully be another safe mission.

In Chicago, the most interesting thing I ever saw in the sky was an occasional blimp. Here in Celebration, we have hot air balloons almost every morning and a shuttle launch every few months just to keep everything interested. Just another benefit of living in the Sunshine State.

Florida Food Favorites

In the past I've blogged a few times about how much I miss Chicago cuisine. There are certain restaurants that I just have to visit whenever I return to the city of my birth. That got me to thinking the other day...now that I am a Floridian, what restaurants in the Sunshine State would I miss most if I were forced to return to the Windy City? I came up with a few:

Sonny's BBQ
Sonny's is a chain, but it doesn't have any locations in Illinois. It's good old-fashioned Southern BBQ at amazingly reasonable prices. We don't have a Sonny's close to Celebration, but my husband and I visit Busch Gardens pretty frequently and there is a Sonny's on the way. When we go to the shopping area at I-4 and 27, we sometimes head a little further down 27 as there is a Sonny's out there too. As an added bonus, we discovered a place that drew us in with a sign announcing "Goats Milk Fudge." The fudge was just okay, but we discovered that they sell wines from our favorite Key West winery.

Most of Sonny's meals are below $10, and that includes two sides. They have crinkle-cut fries, which I adore, and I usually choose corn on the cob as my other option. They also have a salad bar which I typically add even though I know better; the portions are huge, so I end up bringing part of my meal home.

We have a place called Famous Dave's near our Chicago home, but Dave isn't fit to shine Sonny's shoes.

Abuelo's
Good Mexican food is one of the things I miss most in Chicago. Abuelo's isn't as good as Pepe's, my favorite authentic Chicago chain, but it comes darned close. Like Sonny's, Abuelo's is amazingly reasonable on many of its prices, especially its lunch specials. I almost always get an enchilada combo, although I like their tacos too. I get 'em with a soft shell and insist that they use corn tortillas, not flour.

We still like Chevy's, although I don't consider them particularly authentic. But Abuelo's is much easier to get to (the Loop shopping area vs. the special hell that is the Crossroads at Lake Buena Vista), so Abuelo's is our latest Mexican food rut.

Polonia
We used to have an awesome Polish restaurant near our house in Chicago, but alas it closed down many years ago. Polonia is actually better; besides pierogies, it also has kieshka and poppyseed cake, among other authentic delights. It also has chicken paprikas, which threw me off because that is a Hungarian dish. I haven't tried it yet, but it's on my list because my grandma was Hungarian and I ate many a bowl of paprikas in my youth.

Alas, Polonia is all the way out in Casselberry, but it's worth the trip. There is a German restaurant next door that is quite good, too, but I wouldn't miss it if I went back to Chicago because nothing can beat Die Bierstube in my old stomping ground.

I know it sounds crazy, but I would also miss Sizzler. Yes, I know it's a generic steakhouse chain but I love their Malibu Chicken. They abandoned the Chicago area years ago, so when we first moved to Florida it was a real treat to savor my old favorite dish again. I still go there every now and then for lunch, although I am leery of that unsanitary Orlando equation: out-of-control kids + salad bar = germs germs germs.

I would miss the good old Publix grocery store too. Even though I grew up going to Da Jewel's, Jewel can't compare to Publix because it doesn't carry sushi. I was rather surprised the first time I saw the fresh sushi section, but I've come to rely on it as the source of quick and tasty lunches.

The one thing I would not miss is that stinkin' sweet tea that is so pervasive here in the South. I always order unsweetened tea, but my husband can confirm that I still get served that nasty, teeth-jangling sickly sweet stuff at least 20 to 30 percent of the time. Specifically ordering unsweetened tea is so engrained in me that I even do it when I'm back in Chicago. That always earns me quizzical looks, like, "What the heck are you talking about?" Hey, I can't help it...I'm a pseudo-Southern girl now. I know what sweet tea is, even though it never passes my lips whenever I can help it.

Naked Mole Rats Aren't Just at Animal Kingdom

Out of the four cats that reside at Duloc Manor, three are nice, friendly creatures. Sadly, the fourth is a demon cat that will sink his teeth into your flesh without a second thought. He hides under the bed or in the closet 23 1/2 hours a day, which is actually a mercy. He comes out to put food in and let it out, and once in a while he will have a flash of normalcy and actually solicit some putting. Unfortunately, when he's had enough he won't actually let you know in an appropriate way. You'll just get a snarl and a chomp.

For the most part we just leave him alone. He was the son of a feral cat who spent too much of his youth without human contact, so he's not redeemable. No one else would want him, so we consider him our "special" boy. We keep him fed and let him do this thing.

Unfortunately, he has long fur that tends to get matted. If I try to cut the mats, I end up being the one to get cut. Lately the mats have gotten so bad that his rear end was all poopy. The poop was building up to the point where he was so gross and rank smelling that we knew something had to be done. The "something" was a shaving, but I sure as heck wasn't going to do it myself.

Fortunately Celebration Veterinary, the clinic where we take our normal cats, also has grooming services. Crazy Tooncinator has never been out of the house since we moved to Florida, but we decided the time had come to finally take him in. The vet could sedate him, give him his shots, do some bloodwork, and then the groomer could take care of the mats.

Since our crazy beast is around 20 pounds due to lack of exercise, we had to buy a dog carrier to transport him. Then came the trick of getting him into it. This task fell to me, since he hates me somewhat less than he hates most humans. On the appointed morning, I dug him out of the closet and picked him up amidst growling and hissing. Somehow I managed to stuff him into the carrier before he realized what was going on. I could see that he wanted to shred me, but the door was already latched so he could only glare with deep hatred as the voices in his head whispered, "See? See? We told you that you can't trust humans."

SheiKra was loaded up next, as he was due for a shot. He's come a long way from the sickly, worm-infested, road rash-riddled kitten we rescued a few weeks ago. No hissing or growling from him, just a look of resignation.

We dropped off Tooncinator, who had howled and growled the whole way. As we left, I wondered if vets or groomers ever filed lawsuits after being savaged by vicious pets. Fortunately, they managed to get him sedated and he slept through the shaving. He did start to come around, but they got more anesthetic into him before he could attack anyone.

When we arrived to pick him up, we heard his wails from the lobby. It took several people to get him into the carrier, but they managed to do it without bloodshed and presented us with...a naked mole rat. A really, really big naked mole rat. I've seen them many times at Animal Kingdom, and that's all I could think of when I saw our poor kitty. He was done in a lion cut, so his head, legs and tail tip still had hair, but the rest of him was fully shaved. Here are some photos:










Meanwhile, even Farquuad has decided that SheiKra is okay:

Three Little Kittens

When we rescued SheiKra the kitten from I-4 in Tampa, I thought we were only adding one kitten to our household. Little did I realize that we were going to end up with three little kittens...or rather, one genuine kitten and two sumo cats in their second kittenhood.
Out of our current brood, Tooncinator is 12, Stitch is somewhere around 10 (we adopted him as an adult so we're not sure), and Farquaad is almost 7. We got Quaad as a kitten, and Stitch immediately adopted him and mothered him, as you can see in the photos below:







Now they're both old and crotchety, and we had no plans to add another cat to our household. But fate dropped SheiKra (literally) into our laps, so we figured we had to integrate him with the others. We didn't really count Tooncinator, since he hides most of the time anyway.

When we first brought SheiKra home, we limited his initial contact with the others because he didn't yet have a clean bill of health. He had the runs, worms, and fleas, and he hadn't had his feline leukemia test yet. The boys weren't too thrilled with him, even with limited contact. He ran right to Stitch, much as Farquaad had done years earlier. When Quaad did it, Stitch immediately started washing him and they were inseperable buddies from Day One. With SheiKra, Stitch wanted no part of him. I wonder if he sensed that the poor kitten was sickly (Quaad had been healthy when we got him, other than being half starved).

Many vet appointments and medications later, SheiKra was pronounced healthy. He had been living in the shower, but now we released him into full run of the house. Last night was his first night outside of the shower, and he spent part of it playing chase games up and down the hall with Quaad and Stitch before finally curling up with me.

I noticed that all of a sudden the oldsters were acting like kittens too. Not only were they playing with SheiKra, but they also had to horn in whenever I tried to play with him with a string or feathered cat toy or ball. My 20 pound sumos suddenly wanted to jump and leap and do acrobatics at playtime. I wonder if they were worried that one of them was going to be voted out of the household now that new blood had moved in. Or perhaps they had seen the Adams Family movie in which Wednesday convinces Pugsley that because there is a new baby, one of the current children has to die (Grandmama reassures them, "That's just not true. Not anymore."). Tooncinator was his usual crazy self, but the other two reverted to full kittenhood. When I would open the shower to give SheiKra some out time, they would even sneak it and eat his Kitten Chow and try to shove their huge bodies into his tiny kitty condo.

Now that he was out and about, their kitten antics continued. SheiKra loved it, but he still wanted to befriend them for something more than just playtime. Not much more than a week ago he was no doubt cuddling with his mom and littermates. Now he was on his own, and he wanted the warmth of another cat. I doubted that would ever happen, but my husband insisted that Stitch's nurturing side would take over now that SheiKra was healthy. Sure enough, we came upon the following scene in the family room:







SheiKra was snuggling up to Stitch just as Farquaad had once done. As you can see in the first of the three photos above, Quaad stayed close at hand to monitor the proceedings. We even caught Stitch meticulously washing SheiKra.

It's rather exhausted having three (not so) little kittens...and one insane cat...in the household, but it's fun too. At least it wasn't hard to integrate SheiKra with the big boys, and it's fun to see their antics as they try to prove they're just as cute and loveable.

SheiKra Update: Before and After

What a difference three days can make. Below is a photo of SheiKra from Saturday, shortly after being dumped on I-4:



Below is SheiKra on Tuesday, learning that he can climb his scratching post but that it's not so easy to get back down:



His little tummy is plump and round now, the fleas seem to be gone, the bloody road rash is healing, and he's more alert and playing. The other boys still aren't thrilled about him, but they tolerate the inevitable.

June is Adopt-A-Cat Month...Whether You Want To Or Not

June is the American Humane Society's "Adopt A Cat" month, although I usually don't give it much thought because Duloc Manor is maxed out on its feline population. We have two normal cats, Stitch and Farquaad, and a schizophrenic beast named Tooncinator who spends 23 1/2 hours a day under the bed and the other half hour trying to bite us if we dare interact with him. I don't really count him as a pet, since to actually "pet" him would result in a bloody stump. He's like the crazy relative who lives in the attic and who you don't really talk about.

We were plenty comfortable with three cats in our home. Stitch and Quaad have a relationship that's way too close, and Tooncinator...well, he's just sort of there. Thus everything was in a somewhat shaky but acceptable balance Little did I know that Adopt A Cat month was about to become very, very personal to me.

It all started with a trip to Busch Gardens. I'm the Orlando Theme Parks Examiner (Click here to read my articles), and Tampa is close enough to fit under that umbrella, so I wanted to gather fodder for some Busch articles. We have Platinum SeaWorld annual passes that are good for Busch Gardens too. The passes are also good for preferred parking and the ability to stay on the roller coasters and ride a second time with no wait. All in all, we were looking forward to a fun day.

We arrived right at parking lot opening time and were directed to the preferred lot. I loved it, as it's right by the entrance vs. across the street like the regular parking. We had our tickets scanned and lined up at the entrance rope, where they had a band come out to entertain everyone till rope drop time. Our plan was to head right to SheiKra, Busch Garden's main roller coaster. Hubby and I are both coaster fanatics, and we especially like models designed by Bollinger and Mallibard. Thus we were looking forward to a B & M-designed 200 foot climb, followed by a straight-down plummet to earth.

We figured that if we headed to SheiKra first, we could ride it a few times before the crowds got heavy. Alas, that coaster doesn't open until 9:30. Ugh! Thus we went over to the Lion and Tiger wooden racing coasters and rode each of those twice while waiting for the time to pass. We only did a two-fer because we could do it with our pass; those coasters were wicked! There aren't many wooden coasters in Florida, so I forget just how rough they can be. I'll take a metal model any day.

By that time it was after 9:30, so we hustled over to SheiKra. I looked up at its intimidating heights and wondered if my nerves might overcome my love of plummeting down head-first at blinding speeds. I adore Magnum XL at Cedar Point, but unlike SheiKra, Magnum has regular trains. SheiKra's have no floor and the end seats hang out over the track so there is literally nothing below you. Better yet, it pauses at the top of the hill for four seconds before zooming straight down. Although I adore roller coasters, ironically I have a fear of heights. It usually doesn't bother me on rides because I am securely strapped and harnessed in, but I wasn't sure how an open train would feel.

We waited for the front row, figuring we should do our first ride the right way...and I loved it! It actually edged out Manta (also a B & M coaster) as my favorite Central Florida coaster. We did our re-ride, and then I kept dragging hubby on, telling him, "Let's just keep riding it until the line gets too long. Then we'll do something else. I promise." (He was dying to try all the other coasters.) We made it up to nine rides on SheiKra, but on the ninth one I could feel drizzle as we left the station. Sure enough, it started raining harder...and harder...and harder...ugh! There I was with a fanny pack full of stuff, including my cell phone, and DH had his cell in his pocket, and we were getting progressively wetter. Little did we know that we mere seconds away from experiencing new levels of being soaked.

SkeiKra has a second hill where it also stops before plummeting, just like the first one. We climbed it, stopped...and sat there. And sat there. Meanwhile, a monsoon was pummeling us with a rainwater flood. As the minutes ticketed away, we could tell something was wrong. A voice came over a loudspeaker telling us that Sheikra had temporarily ceased operation (thank you, Captain Obvious) and that the situation was being assessed. I eyed the nearby stairs, wondering if we'd have to walk down and weighing the excitement and bragging rights as a coaster enthusiast vs. the chance of getting zapping with lightning.

The people around us were flipping out about their cell phones and whatever else they had in their pockets, and one poor girl towards the back was screaming and being ordered to "shut up" by her unsympathetic companions. I focused on trying to cover my fanny pack as best as I could. Normally, being a seasoned Floridian theme park goer, I wrap the contents in plastic. I'd gotten lazy lately, and now I was paying the price. Finally, after several more minutes, the coaster started moving again, and a new sort of hell started as the rain hit our faces like hail pellets. I kept my eyes closed and reminded myself that it would all be over in a minute or so and that sudden rainstorms are part of the joy of living in Florida and a fair trade-off for a life free of winter blizzards.

We made it into the station and were given two front of the line passes each for our future use, along with our fellow riders. I thought it was a nice gesture, since Busch can't control the weather. We hustled over to a nearby store, where I bought a dry t-shirt (which I had been planned to anyway) and shorts (which were not in the plan, but I wasn't driving more than an hour home in sloshy jeans).

We donned rain ponchos and hustled to the car, planning to stop at Sonny's BBQ for a nice lunch. We see their commercials all the time, but they don't have a location around Celebration. We'd noticed one just off I-4 so we figured that would be convenient. I contacted Onstar to ask how to get to I-4, and they gave me directions for a different way than the one we'd come. That was fine with me, as long as we got there eventually.

We were tooling down the road at 55 m.p.h. when a flash of movement caught my eye. A kitten! A tiny black kitten! It appeared in the right lane, and darted towards the center. I was sure it was going to be splattered, but somehow it decided to change direction and ran to the shoulder. Unfortunately, there was a 10 foot concrete wall. It tried frantically to climb it, and I knew it was just a matter of time before it ran into traffic again. I whipped over onto the left shoulder, since I was in the left lane, jumped out, and ran towards the frantic little fur ball. He must have exhausted himself, as he was now plastered motionless against the wall.

The kitten was so close but yet so far, as there was no break in traffic in sight. I-4 is only slightly safer than the Daytona racetrack. Finally a few cars noticed me and slowed down, and one woman stopped in the right lane so I could get across. As I ran, the jackass behind her suddenly whipped around her on the shoulder, heading right for the kitten. I started screaming at him, but he just gave me a blank stare as he nearly ran it over; thank god it was against the wall. As soon as he passed, I swooped in and managed to grab the soaking wet, shivering little creature. Now there just remained the trick of crossing the road one more time.

Hy husband had emerged from the car and was standing helplessless on the other side. Eventually I saw a tiny break and ran like I was in the Olympics, making it safely with my precious cargo in tow. Hubby took over cat care duty as I lept into the driver's seat to try to figure out what to do. I was reasonably sure that the kitten hadn't been hit, since I'd seen it running and trying to climb the wall. It was bleeding, but that appeared to be from road rash since someone had obviously tossed it out onto I-4. Besides the tell-tale marks, there was literally no way an animal could have gotten to that stretch of the expressway on its own. Someone must have tossed it out right at the moment I saw it appear in the traffic lane.

I knew we needed to get it to a vet, but it was Saturday afternoon and we were in totally unfamiliar territory. Onstar to the rescue! I called to see if they could find a nearby vet, and they started calling listings until they found one that was open for the next hour. We rushed off with the poor little kitty in tow; he was wet, bloody, shivering, and literally skin and bones. Thankfully the doctor was able to see him. He gave us two types of medication and said that the poor little baby seemed like he would pull through the ordeal.

We headed back to Duloc Manor with the kitten in tow. I've rescued lots of strays in my life, and back in Chicago I knew no-kill shelters where I could bring them to ensure their safety and adoption. In Florida, no-kills are fewer and much farther between, and now is a terrible time anyway since people who are getting foreclosed on are abandoning their animals left and right. With three cats already, I knew I should try to find somewhere to take the kitten. I figured we could even foster him till a rescue group could find him a home. But in reality, I had risked life and limb to save him, and I hated the idea of giving him away and probably never knowing where he ened up. If we fostered him for a rescue group, I'd just get attached and end up keeping him anyway, so why deny the inevitable? Before the night was over, I realized that June had indeed become Adopt A Cat Month for me.

We christened him SheiKra; it was either that or Onstar, since both were responsible for our being in that place at that very moment to save him, and naming him after my favorite roller coaster just seemed fitting. Riding over and over and getting caught in the monsoon had set me up to find him, so in a way he owed his life to SheiKra. Now we just have to go through the ever-so-fun process of waiting for our other beasties to adjust to him. As you can see by the last photo in the series of pictures below, he is adjusting to life in Celebration quite well.

Below, three photos on Rescue Day:






One day later, the two photos below show how SheiKra has settled in (the big cat in the last photo is Stitch):