A Universal thing

Beer here is $8 for a plastic cupful; rivalling most venue and rock festival charging schemes in the UK. The views are decent enough however as is the changeable weather. It was unfortunate that my park entry ticket expired yesterday thereby barring me from entry today. Sometimes you just have to suck things up.

Holiday V Home

I'm still not feeling at home in the holiday home. Not something that I had anticipated but after quite a few weeks of living here I've come to the conclusion that a holiday home can't feel like home for the likes of me. For the other family members who've stayed here and who are here now I don't know. They may feel at home in some temporary way. For me it's not, it's hotel style with pale carpets and annoying appliances and strange noises that the AC emits, downpours of lizards, heat and energy sapping atmospheric special effects and ice machines. Cups, knives and dish towels that I don't recognize, like a futuristic camping trip that never ends, shop to shop to garbage can with intermittent holiday events taking place on  a routine basis, I can live with this and I can like it but it's not home. 

Disclaimer: Things on this blog are often written during thunder storms, towards the end of a hangover or whilst hungry or disorientated. They generally do not reflect any part of recognised reality or normal life and should not be used as part of any wider programme of research or exploration. These things being strange and foreign concepts that have no place in my own carefully constructed alternative reality. There is no point in any pursuit other than the fun that may be had or by some chance occur. If this means nothing then leave it be so that it may all be nothing and so find some temporary rest way over there somewhere. 

Good morning America

Shower floor layout featuring newly unblocked drain and cleaning products (human and shower). 

On top of the chest of drawers various unused and forgotten items lurk awaiting rediscovery. 

View from the office this morning - views from other windows are available.

Stumbling around this morning recovering from a large meal in the local pub in the town of Celebration, a kind of American Dalgety Bay. Three cheeseburgers formed the starter followed by fish and chips. The fish had been flown down from Boston apparently, quite an effort to make it to the plate. It was all heavy going in a light weight environment. Celebration remains a kind of cultural and design enigma, populated by slow traffic, golf carts, grey wanderers and Disney cast members. It's clean, overpriced, white and lazy and strangely disturbing, forming up in my head as a weird American time warp of an experience.

Balloon Pool and Veganism

Last night the pool was (almost) filled with balloons, hence this very special effect.

Every so often I fancy the idea of turning vegan for a few months just to see what difference it might make to my general health and outlook. It never actually happens.

The food and presentation looks good, not so crazy about the prices though. More information here...

A world of Star Wars

They are going nuts here promoting Star Wars. It's a runaway gravy train of images, technology, mythology and money. Like stepping into some brave new world or religious cult the power of the force (of mass media exploitation) is irresistible. There is no escaping your destiny (young master) to return time and time again for the immersive rerunning of the film experiences played out in every possible way. The new park will be open in a few years, lay all your money down now. You cannot choose not to be fan either, somebody as done something strange to all of our DNA that compels and controls. So as the Stormtroopers swagger around fantasized streets keeping order and the blasters pump flare like colours across the sky we look to the future only to see more bright shiny things and good and evil colliding once again. The problem is figuring out who is who is who.

Various diversions

First World Problems and Solutions: If you get bored with eating, swimming or sunbathing then you can always play games or go to theme parks.

Back into the wild

It is possible to find peace and relative solitude in the madcap middle of tourist crippled Florida. Lake Louisa Park only a few miles up Highway 27 is a green and scrubby wild wilderness. Miles of empty lakes, curious examples of wildlife (too quick to photograph) and quiet, sunbaked roads. It seems a long way from King Kong and the legions or super heroes and designer shops all hungry for ready cash and footfall. For a $4 entry fee you can quite quickly get lost and come close to treading on a gator's tail or wandering into a swamp. No shops, no amenities, just a student renting out canoes from an old ISO container selling warm Coke and giving sparse advice on how to avoid getting hurt or eaten. For most visitors though the whole point of their day is about getting lost. A rare and nice personal experience that you can't actually share with anybody. Nice to do if you want to be in America but for a short time not be part of the spiralling, crazy circus.

Life...

...can be full of little surprises. (I'd imagine that everyone who has ever looked twice at any American power point has taken a picture like this, so I'm just taking my turn now.)

Another day another dragon

Dragons are a big deal it turns out. They make for fantastic fantasy and commercial good sense. They are scary but also photogenic. Once the unlikely property of the Welsh or maybe St George or some other feeble knight they are now the fictional kings of killing beasts and unlikely human allies, from Shrek and Game of Thrones to Pete's Dragon and Harry Potter. No story is complete without some fire breathing, hell raising lizard. Naturally they survive best in theme parks where around every corner, at the end of every queue and propping up plot devices with their timely, fiery interventions the dragons are top of the food chain. Well top but still behind strange super powers, strong willed  women and a little dark magic.

Lizard on the tyre

This chap tried to hitch a ride but failed, his mate however managed a blistering two mile drive down the highway on our bonnet jumping off quite the thing once we reached our destination, an IHoP.

Sweets sampled for YouTube reviewing.

Food in Florida

Food is everywhere in Florida, it's a religion, it's a belief and for some it's a complete lifestyle. There are many big, hungry people here. Restaurant after restaurant filled with eager waiting staff, scurrying chefs and rapid action cooks and meals, large and larger that defy description. Tonight it was shrimp for me, three kinds, three flavours, three portions, wow! The crab shown above was not mine but worthy of appearing here for a) size and b) complexity of the dish and c) skills required to actually eat it.  Now it's slowly digesting (the shrimp) someplace inside me, the couch calls, the night is long and hot...and there's always something else to do and something else to eat. 

Tame Impala

Chevy Impala: moved north, turned Yankee, no explanation.

Barry Lyndon revisited

Thanks the Guardian for reminding me about Barry Lyndon, it's relevance and importance and informing me of it's re-release.   Like Heaven's Gate (another misunderstood film) or Easy Rider, Five Easy Pieces or Dark Star, the movies that populated my screwed up younger consciousness shouldn't be forgotten or filed away (preaching to myself here and no one else) by my muddled sixty year old mind.  Note to self: explore the past a bit more so the present can be better understood and the future avoided at all costs.

Apocalypse Anytime Soon

Skull Island. Home of King Kong and some dazzling special effects.

I've discovered that any theme park queue that is over an hour quickly (?) affects a person's grip on reality. After while the queue becomes all, there is no life before or after, only the queue slowly snaking it's way between features, watering stations, dark spots and notices. There is no past, no future just the somber trudge in some crazy direction, onwards it seems to nowhere.  As if in Apocalypse Now we journey along some lost river, snaking through passageways and caves, changes take place, there are attacks and unsafe refuges, there is danger and the distant promise of safety and a chilled water fountain. These things never arrive however, only the tramping on and the recurring hallucinations, lack of sleep and an increasing sense of dread and worthlessness. So once we get past the bag search area we get to go on some really good rides.

Queues and blues

A poor excuse for a human being.

For a few days I thought that the sun was making me mad, then I realised it was just me, in the sun, making me mad. Too long and too far away from Scotland with only the occasional theme park visit to give me any grounding in reality. In truth I've come to love those long, human, sweaty, steady and up close and personal lines that snake across this fine country, park to park to car park to supermarket. There's just not enough eager people in Scotland to form a decent queue and if it was a sport (possible?) then we'd still be rubbish at it. Also we're not fat or aggressive enough as a nation, don't believe the stats, most Scots over here hardly take up any space, have good manners and apart from obvious football top wearing errors fade into any crowd (once they lose the peely-wally pink colour).

Harry Potter thing

Did most of the Harry Potter stuff today and quickly realised I've watched seven films and read (?) some books without really remembering any meaningful detail. That's an age thing I guess, anyway bits of it came flooding back in some kind of minor flood of almost recognition that meant I didn't have to ask too many questions to the torrent of young and over eager fans surrounding me. God, this business has fairly taken off here, everybody is into dressing up as if they were at Hogwarts and in temperatures in the high 90s, no mean feat. Young wizards and witches from across the world I salute you all (and your interactive if ineffective wands).

Endless Summer

Actually that's incorrect, Summer this year, in the northern hemisphere, will end towards the final weeks in August and when September comes around. I can't be any more precise but watch the skies and see. At the moment however it just seems a bit... endless, complete with thunderstorms and regular fixes of Taco Bell.

Still lives with lamps

Please excuse the recent run of images showing the flag of the USA, I've nothing against it nor mean any offence but it's there purely to remind me where I am. Indeed yesterday I had a meaningful encounter with a bald eagle and some other American avian wildlife; it's true that despite what the media may say or show there is much to appreciate and enjoy out here. Stuff is everywhere and Hair Metal remains a big deal. Taco Bell, Grape Juice, unstable patterns of weather, poor journalism and endless TV commercials for dumb products. These things plus a constant lack of any understanding of irony and the Scottish dialect that (I fall into from time to time) has endeared me with various kinds of terms of endearment. African Americans seem to me to be the most fun and the loudest, white folks simmer in some quiet resignation as if the future is grim, Asians act out their stereotypes and appear behind cash registers and fail to understand any queue system whilst the "others" (from who knows where) who form some block of minority view are all fine. So here's to you all and I salute you with these still (stationery) life tableaux of odd household and tourist type items.

On the tip of my tongue

Somehow special bricks from Hemingway's garden.

A six toed cat cleaning it's sixth toe.

A rather large model of Mount Everest at a Disney Park.

Some kind of holiday fatigue has set in whereby I have normal dumb and/or clever thoughts but they fail to stick in my head for any length of time. It's probably the heat pinging my thin bald head and just causing the thoughts and ideas to turn to steam, like rain drying on the pavement...this happens a lot round here and may well continue as I continue to fail to acclimatize. 

Return from Key West

Some people call it Paradise, even the local police do (and write it on the sides of their prowlers). It's the edge of an unbalanced world, a strange mix of drunkards, Jocks, drag queens, hippies, stoners, baffled tourists, Ms Americas and millionaires. Everybody is looking for something; cigars from Cuba, $4 coconut milk drinks, non-stop blues and erotic cabaret, intense heat, bad behaviour,  water sports and marlin fishing. All there somewhere. It defies any easy description, it's an experience where you tick boxes you didn't know you had. I saw Jimmy Page's 1959 Les Paul up for sale alongside a Hendrix Strat, Sting's Precision  Bass, SRV's Strat, Kurt Cobain's Jaguar, Keef's 335 and a host of other things no ordinary person could ever afford. The six toed cats (49 of them) asleep on Ernest Hemingway's bed and a vibe that says truly "you can check out any time you like but you can never leave." Well we did eventually, back up Highway 1 in the blazing sun in a grand race against all the bad drivers of the USA, home safe and as ever still bewildered by it all.