I meant to post this on Talk Like a Pirate Day (September 19), but I forgot.

Bullgrit

Sorry, but I’m not going to show pictures of me or my family.

Looking through our photographs of our adventure in DW, I re-affirmed that I don’t like having my picture taken. I just ain’t photogenic.

Looking at one pic of me, I commented to Cowgrit, “You know, they say a camera adds 10 pounds.”

“No,” she replied, “the cookies and cheese cake add 10 pounds.”

Hey, she’s the one that set up our vacation meal reservations — mostly at buffets.

Anyway, here are some photos from Disney World that might be interesting only to someone with a strange sense of what might make a good photo in Disney World.

This might be my next car:

Brogrit says he wants a Hummer. I found him one:

But he’ll need a regular gig to afford it. I found that for him, too:

See, little brother, I’m looking out for you.

Bullgrit

Me and the boys were ending our excursion through Target the other day, and I was directing them to a fast checkout counter. The Pokemon cards hang on the shelf right next to the fast checkout section, so getting the boys past that distraction is like herding cats past a shelf of shiny, dangly string toys.

“Go on, boys,” I urged, “we’ve got to checkout and go, now.” I started to tell them which of the two counters to go to — the one I had randomly selected on the spur of the moment — when I stammered.

The two cashiers were young girls (teenagers), with medium-short, black hair. They both, of course, wore red shirts and khaki pants (the normal uniform for Target folks). The one obvious difference between the two girls was one was white and the other was black.

The words on the tip of my tongue were, “Let’s go right over here to the black girl.” Their skin color was the most easily identifiable difference between them. (At least that was the most “easily identifiable” difference for young boys — or a middle-aged man — to recognize between two teenage girls.)

I held my statement when I realized how that might sound. I changed my direction to “Um, the girl on the right,” and they followed my pointing finger. (Calfgrit4 still hasn’t come to get right and left correct every time, yet. Especially when we’re facing each other.)

Now, had the two cashiers been a teenage girl and a middle-aged woman, I wouldn’t have hesitated identifying them as “the woman” or “the girl.”

Had they been a male and female, I wouldn’t have hesitated saying, “the guy” or “the girl.”

Had they different color hair, I wouldn’t have hesitated saying, “the blonde” or “the one with black hair” (I don’t know if the boys know “brunette” yet).

Had they just about any other distinguishing feature between them, I don’t think I’d have hesitated to use that as an identifier to direct the boys.

But I choked on “black” and “white.” Why is that?

Bullgrit

Our adventure into Disney World, for our second annual Grit family DW vacation, is completed. We’re all home safely, yet exhausted. Having fun is hard work. Especially when the Florida environment was 90+ degrees and 90+ percent humidity.

We arrived in Florida and DW late Saturday afternoon. The evening was pleasant.

Sunday started out hot and humid, and then poured down rain around noon. We had just ridden Kali River Rapids (in Animal Kingdom) — the warning signs say, “You will get wet. You may get soaked.” — so we were all already in various stages of watered. Cowgrit and we boys got in line for another run down the rapids when the storm clouds rolled in. The wait line is covered/inside, so we decided to just stay in the line. If the rain stops before we get to the ride, great; if it continues when we get to the ride, so what — we’re gonna get wet anyway.

We boarded the ride in a heavy downpour, so we were pretty much soaked to the skin by the time the first ride splash hit anyone. When we got off the river, we were all thoroughly and completely wet from rain and river. We had wisely stuffed our cell phones into plastic bags before the ride, but my wallet and our cash was dripping wet.

Although the rain slacked up a little while later, we all decided to go ahead and call the park done. It was time for Calfgrit4’s nap anyway, and we really needed to get out of our wet clothes. Our shoes squished when we walked, our clothes were heavy with water, and we were literally dripping as we walked. We were not the only ones in such a condition — easily half the other park visitors were equally drenched. Strangers were laughing at each other’s appearance. A prepared few families were covered in rain ponchos, but that’s not exciting.

That night, we checked the Weather Channel for the week’s forecast.

Not what you want to see for your week in Disney World. But as it turned out, that Sunday rain, while we were at Animal Kingdom, was the only rain to fall on us. The temp was a few degrees hotter, and the humidity was so high you nearly had to swim down the street. But we didn’t get rained on again.

Something that amazed me in some crowds: Standing there in the heat and humidity, I sweated. Other people around me sweated — you could see the beads of sweat on their foreheads and faces, you could see the wet, dark spots on their shirts. But there was always a person in the crowd who showed no signs of perspiration. A guy in a gray t-shirt with not so much as a spot under his arms. A girl with long, full black hair with not so much as a glisten on her cheek.

What kind of metabolism do these sweatless freaks of nature have that 90° heat and 90% humidity brings no cooling moisture from their pores? FREAKS!

Bullgrit