Orlando
seems to have a problem with peanut butter.
I
never figured it out while I was there.
I
haven’t figured it out since I’ve been home.
But
the message delivered by three different stores was exactly the
same… there’s something up with the peanut butter in Orlando.
And…
to be fair… I may need to start again. Diving right into peanut
butter isn’t the perfect entry point for an article making observations
about a trip to Orlando. Needs some background.
For
anyone that has experienced the thrills, joys and challenges of
traveling, there are certain moments that stand out more than
others. Much like anything involving planning and participating,
there might be crying and laughing, tension and relief, and a
whole bunch of little elements surrounding a great big production.
It
may be the scenery that knocks you over. The beauty of a national
park… a drive along the coast… seeing a moose, kangaroo or condor
in the wild.
Perhaps
it’s the food that sweeps you away. Learning what salsa is like
when served fresh and not from a vacuum-sealed glass jar… tasting
wine at the vineyard that produced it… reading a menu with seasonal
and regional items that you would never encounter at home.
And
it could certainly be something touristy and packaged, but overflowing
with thrills. A world-class theme park with state-of-the-art attractions…
a monument, lighthouse, or home-of-so-and-so filled with history…
a show along the Vegas Strip.
I
will never forget the beauty of Yosemite. I hope one day to visit
the park again. But beyond the dazzling beauty and settings of
park itself were little moments, such as watching Mike try to
leave the car and offer a bear a piece of pizza. And I will never
forget the fun and surprise of seeing the raccoons near the Golden
Gate Bridge during the same trip. From years ago I still recall
watching Richard get stuck on Doctor Doom’s Fearfall at Islands
of Adventure.
The
point being… there are moments in life that each of us experience
that stand out. And when it comes to hitting the road, they can
be vivid parts of the memories, the elements that create perceptions,
and the pieces that make my travels unique from yours… even when
we are talking about the same places.
This
trip to Orlando wasn’t like any other I have ever planned or experienced.
It wasn’t based around Disney World… though we made it one of
the Disney Parks, and over to one at Universal Studios. It wasn’t
based upon eating out… though we shared some great meals at amazing
restaurants. And…
As
I look at my notes… recall the events… create articles… and decide
what stories to share…
I
keep remembering the peanut butter dilemma.
Hey…
the more things change, the more they stay the same. Irlo W. Bronson
Highway? East side and west, divided by Disney, still effectively
present mirror images of the road to you. Stores and restaurants
may have closed, but others remain… amidst the markers engraved
in time of discounted tickets that make you wonder why anyone
would pay full price, waffle houses, gift shops and mermaids and
wizards and giraffes. (Oh my.)
We
arrived on a Friday, settled in to our home for the week, and
developed a quick shopping list. We had decided that alot of our
eating would be home-based (breakfasts for certain, and also preparing
a picnic or two and some home-cooked dinners). We needed some
bottled water… the amazing cooler for the car… and a few other
essentials.
As
we roamed the store, we ended up with bread and bagels in the
cart, and partially listening to half-overheard discussions of
plans for this day and that, for some amazing reason I found myself
craving peanut butter. I think it was a combination of three things:
(1) I had been making fun of Ellen for not buying Skippy a week
or two earlier. (If a representative of Skippy would like to contact
me, please just use the e-mail address provided. Thanks. And remember…
if you’re not eating Skippy, you’re not eating the best peanut
butter.) (2) They were buying tuna fish. And… yeah… yuck. So I
needed some sort of option for whenever that lunch came around.
(3) The bagels in the cart and the lunch thoughts kind of came
crashing together to suggest something other than cream cheese.
On
that first shopping effort, and time and again after… at multiple
stores… and not just searching for the great name of Skippy… I
was hit by the same frustrations.
I’d
find the right aisle, and then need a few seconds to focus. The
labels all have a tendency to run together in the stores these
days, getting lost in a sea of the same attention grabbing colors
and misdirection. Hands of previous shoppers had picked up some
items and then returned them to different spots, mixing the inventory
to even greater extremes.
There
was chunky… original in gargantuan tubs… reduced fat… organic
stir in the oil brands… and heck… as most of you peanut butter
shoppers know… I could buy my peanut butter with some jelly in
the same jar.
But
a simple jar of original or creamy or whatever the name might
be in a size that seemed reasonable for a week (or at least only
slightly excessive)… not a chance.
And
I don’t understand.
Look…
when you travel, and we all know this… you will not always be
able to find your favorite brands. And you will undoubtedly encounter
items that you won’t find again once you return home. (For years
I’ve hoped to find the soft drink Lift in the United States. Nope.
That lemon beverage is calling me back to Australia.)
That’s
not what we’re talking about here though. This was about not finding
a basic peanut butter.
In
three different stores… and these were different store names,
not just differing locations… pretty much no regular peanut butter.
I
have to be honest now... I’m rambling a bit about peanut butter…
and that isn’t really what this whole essay is about. Yes, that
is where it started. It’s simply not where we’re going.
Orlando
is sensory overload to an extreme. It’s fireworks every night,
fine dining and fast food, with virtually everything from two
million different coffee mugs for sale to five thousand options
for a quick breakfast on the way to a theme park.
For
some reason though, it would seem Orlando doesn’t do normal very
well.
Terry,
Ellen, Richard, and I remembered getting drenched about ten years
ago while on the water rides at Islands of Adventure. So, we decided
to try and buy some cheap flip-flops. That way we could grab a
locker in the park, toss our stuff in there, and keep our sneakers
dry while walking around for a half-hour or so in the flip-flops.
After
visiting several different stores, with row upon row of sculptures
made from shells and pictures of alligators pulling down the bottom
of a bikini, we finally found ourselves in the shoe section of
Target. And there… before us for the men… was one style of flip-flop,
in no color but brown.
I
mean… really?
If
there is any place on the planet where the possibilities of a
day with water are beyond filled with options, from the call of
heading to the beach to spending the day at the pool, is more
common or realistic than Orlando, Florida, my guess is it has
yet to be discovered.
And
yet… no flip-flops.
Forty
billion pairs of sunglasses.
In
five billion different colors.
With
and without the face of animated royalty.
No
flip-flops.
(Amusing
side note… Mike was so less than enthusiastic about his flip-flops
that he decided the rides couldn’t possibly be that bad, that
I had to be exaggerating about the attraction design cheating
by dumping a waterfall on you while seated in the ride vehicle,
and he wore his sneakers. He spent days… yes, plural, days… trying
to dry them.)
So
if you’re heading to Orlando, be prepared to have a fantastic
time… be prepared to spend some money… and be prepared for more
options of different kinds of fun than you might possibly be able
to imagine.
But
if there’s some basic essential that you need… some item from
home that you really want to have by your side… understand that
your best bet is to listen to those two words… be prepared.