<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640</id><updated>2011-11-16T15:06:48.097-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The World of Wombat</title><subtitle type='html'>Musings on life, the universe, and everything...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>244</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7917585980775905986</id><published>2011-11-15T16:25:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T16:37:45.864-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Epilogue – Stella, this ain’t Hollywood</title><summary type='text'>This is the last article in my report for my November 2011 trip to a Hollywood movie premiere at Grauman's Chinese Theatre. For the beginning of the story, click here, then follow the story by clicking "Newer Post" at the bottom of each page!So we’ve now been to a Hollywood premiere. And it was every bit as surreal as we thought it might be. We had a wonderful but too-brief visit with DisneyMom, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7917585980775905986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7917585980775905986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/epilogue-stella-this-aint-hollywood.html' title='Epilogue – Stella, this ain’t Hollywood'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-6498418941983491878</id><published>2011-11-03T19:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T15:06:48.114-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home again</title><summary type='text'>We sleep solidly until our alarms go off at 8:00. We wake quickly but rouse ourselves slowly, if that makes sense.Yesterday already seems like a strange dream, sometimes wonderful, sometimes not, but not really real. Except we’re in a hotel room in Santa Monica, with that gorgeous ocean view out of our window!There were squares of Ghirardelli dark chocolate left on our nightstand by housekeeping </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6498418941983491878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6498418941983491878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/home-again.html' title='Home again'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wcTon_fzeuE/TsLmna83MvI/AAAAAAAACwI/5PM_o1kmGdk/s72-c/IMAG0909.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-6483020795285635518</id><published>2011-11-02T23:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T16:20:07.928-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lights out</title><summary type='text'>We’re going south on La Brea when Becky lets me know she’s getting carsick. I tell Sam, and BOOM – within four seconds, top, he’s swerved into the center turn lane, signaled, crossed three northbound lanes, come to a stop in an apartment complex driveway, hopped out and opened Becky’s door. I’ll just chalk up his actions to exceptional customer service, though I’m sure the strong desire to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6483020795285635518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6483020795285635518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/lights-out.html' title='Lights out'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8796489496840622803</id><published>2011-11-02T22:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T13:12:53.214-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More than we could handle</title><summary type='text'>It’s after 10:00, and about 45 minutes since we called our driver. We’re wondering what happened to Sam’s promised 20-25 minute pick-up time. We’re not being prima donnas; we’re just tired, Becky doesn’t feel great, and we’re back on Hollywood Boulevard – and it is still going at full volume. During all of our wait outside of the barricades, this time by Madame Tussaud’s, one guy is constantly </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8796489496840622803'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8796489496840622803'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/more-than-we-could-handle.html' title='More than we could handle'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2000106197892929484</id><published>2011-11-02T22:05:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T16:17:58.668-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking the red carpet, for real this time</title><summary type='text'>We head up the aisle of the theater and deposit our 3D glasses with others on a ledge at the bottom of the stairs leading to the lobby. As we climb we can see that maybe all the celebs haven’t fled after all. There are large clusters of people ahead of us, and a few video camera lots sticking above the crowds. It’s impossible to see who might be at the center of the clusters, though.One of the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2000106197892929484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2000106197892929484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/walking-red-carpet-for-real-this-time.html' title='Walking the red carpet, for real this time'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-327794654289100783</id><published>2011-11-02T21:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T13:08:01.866-06:00</updated><title type='text'>It’s beginning to look like A Very Harold &amp; Kumar 3D Christmas</title><summary type='text'>There’s no fanfare, other than the lights dimming. No preshow, no announcements, not even any previews. The credits roll, and most of the people in the theater applaud.When the end credits roll 90 minutes later, there is general applause…Huh? How was the movie?Well, this is a trip report, not a movie review, but let’s just say A Very Harold &amp; Kumar 3D Christmas was everything we expected it to be</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/327794654289100783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/327794654289100783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/its-beginning-to-look-like-very-harold.html' title='It’s beginning to look like A Very Harold &amp; Kumar 3D Christmas'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4458583811008882001</id><published>2011-11-02T19:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T13:04:04.488-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The people</title><summary type='text'>One of our biggest questions about this prize trip was, what do we wear to a Hollywood premiere? Obviously the celebs dress up, but we wondered if it was required of everyone. I’ve got a couple of suits and a cheap tux, but (1) I didn’t want to haul them halfway across the country (with limited carry-on space) and have to wear them while sightseeing on Hollywood Boulevard for a few hours, and (2)</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4458583811008882001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4458583811008882001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/people.html' title='The people'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-9003811257934310739</id><published>2011-11-02T18:55:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T12:58:54.233-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Inside. We're inside!</title><summary type='text'>We pass through a metal detector – I wonder, do the red carpeteers get any screening? (I’d be more worried about some of them!) I forget to take a spare phone battery out of my front pocket, so that the guards do a little extra wanding, and then we’re in.We are standing in the lobby of Grauman’s Chinese Theatre!It’s ornate, but also very dimly lit. I take a few pictures to try and capture the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/9003811257934310739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/9003811257934310739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/inside-were-inside.html' title='Inside. We&apos;re inside!'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4931169503822935079</id><published>2011-11-02T18:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T12:55:29.197-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Walking the red carpet, almost</title><summary type='text'>We walk back down to the Kodak Theatre atrium and find a bench. Soon DisneyMom and DisneySon pass by – hey, didn’t we just say goodbye to you? – and after a quick explanation, we say our goodbyes again.The time passes quickly. The visuals of the street take on a new, exciting look as the sun goes down and the neon comes on.At 6:35 we head back to the barricade. Still not open, but they’re close, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4931169503822935079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4931169503822935079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/walking-red-carpet-almost.html' title='Walking the red carpet, almost'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2139858488088977704</id><published>2011-11-02T18:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T15:49:26.744-06:00</updated><title type='text'>On to the premiere</title><summary type='text'>Our food arrives, and it’s very tasty – made all the better by the great company. Being stunned at the pin gifts, though, I forget to take a picture of our food like I usually do.Once we polish off Becky’s chili bowl and my chili dog (and I must say, it’s pretty good chili, even if it wasn’t made in Texas) (but mine is still better), it’s dessert time. We’d probably skip dessert on any other </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2139858488088977704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2139858488088977704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-to-premiere.html' title='On to the premiere'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4793138820645053287</id><published>2011-11-02T17:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T15:44:12.275-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow, really?</title><summary type='text'>DisneyMom had told me online that she had a “thank you” gift for me for something I’d done last year. Her veteran father-in-law turned 70 and she solicited her friends from all over to send him a birthday card. I did that, but then also had the Vocal Majority sing Happy Birthday to him and sent her the recording. To me, it was not that big of a thing and certainly no major effort, but it was </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4793138820645053287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4793138820645053287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/wow-really.html' title='Wow, really?'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dWoKnGHucWQ/TsLcSfpTZiI/AAAAAAAACv8/StVELdrhtUo/s72-c/IMAG0910a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2619999821997277157</id><published>2011-11-02T17:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T15:31:53.655-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Long lost friends we’ve never met</title><summary type='text'>I mentioned earlier that we’re meeting friends at 5:00 at the Disney Soda Fountain. That’s literally true: we’re meeting them for the first time. That’s the nature of online communities – you can make friends all over the world without ever being in their presence physically.There’s a website called StupidGuestTricks.com (SGT), which began as a place for Disney and other theme park employees to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2619999821997277157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2619999821997277157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/long-lost-friends-weve-never-met.html' title='Long lost friends we’ve never met'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7122006800824536788</id><published>2011-11-02T17:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T11:36:33.454-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting our tickets. Or not.</title><summary type='text'>Four-thirty rolls around and we head back out to the street, but before going back to the box office, I want to see if I can get a closer picture of the Hollywood sign overlooking the area. It’s to the northeast of us, and I know it’s not visible from this stretch of Hollywood Boulevard, but I’m wondering if I can get a glimpse of it on a side street.We walk east to Highland Avenue and turn north</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7122006800824536788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7122006800824536788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/getting-our-tickets-or-not.html' title='Getting our tickets. Or not.'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-445574301566446902</id><published>2011-11-02T16:28:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T11:31:25.455-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Things to do, places to be, people to see</title><summary type='text'>Even though we have plenty of time built into our schedule – Demand Media was very gracious and helpful in scheduling our transportation to fit our desires – we do have a couple of things we need to do.We want to do some souvenir shopping for our kids, and older son Brandon has made a special request: he collects pins, both Disney and others, and has a growing Hard Rock Café collection. His </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/445574301566446902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/445574301566446902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/things-to-do-places-to-be-people-to-see.html' title='Things to do, places to be, people to see'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3481243291168419547</id><published>2011-11-02T16:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T11:29:26.149-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Seeing the sights, passing time</title><summary type='text'>We do want to see the sights, and we certainly have time for it, so let the sightseeing begin! But first things first – Facebook.Now, I have a number of friends online who seem to have no qualms about posting statuses saying, “Heading out to Europe for two weeks!” I do appreciate the desire to share one’s life (read: “brag”), but I’ve also been in law enforcement long enough, and am just paranoid</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3481243291168419547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3481243291168419547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/seeing-sights-passing-time.html' title='Seeing the sights, passing time'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-6215718428905243541</id><published>2011-11-02T16:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T11:23:05.629-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hooray for … Insanity</title><summary type='text'>In less than 45 minutes from leaving the hotel, Sam is dropping us off on Orange Drive about a half-block off of Hollywood Boulevard. We’re here!I smack my left shoulder – hard – on the car door as I climb out. Ouch.With my shoulder stinging (and still with a knot on my head from our jet’s video monitor), Becky and I walk hand in hand up to Hollywood Boulevard.We’re actually here! …And it is </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6215718428905243541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6215718428905243541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/hooray-for-insanity.html' title='Hooray for … Insanity'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2534649389449170002</id><published>2011-11-02T15:40:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T11:15:46.078-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sam gets us there</title><summary type='text'>After a brief but refreshing nap, we’re up and (kind of) ready for the actual Hollywood part of our adventure to begin!At ten till three, our room phone rings. The voice on the other end says his name is Sam and he’s our driver. He tells me that he’s on time for our 3:00 pickup in front of the hotel. And then he warns us that sometimes unoccupied drivers will camp out in front of the hotel and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2534649389449170002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2534649389449170002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/sam-gets-us-there.html' title='Sam gets us there'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3348543742583407196</id><published>2011-11-02T13:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T11:16:39.697-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunch and a brief rest</title><summary type='text'>Our server at California Pizza Kitchen is an outgoing, talkative young man who quickly finds out where we’re from and what we’re doing there. He cheerfully welcomes us to California and starts talking Dallas sports with me. I’m not sure I’m emotionally ready to talk sports, though – I’m still hurting from the Texas Rangers’ narrow loss in Game 6 of the World Series, that allowed St. Louis to win </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3348543742583407196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3348543742583407196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/lunch-and-brief-rest.html' title='Lunch and a brief rest'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-1288395132304507887</id><published>2011-11-02T13:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T11:11:01.747-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Huntley</title><summary type='text'>Our car arrives at our hotel, The Huntley Hotel, a luxury place just a couple of blocks off of the beach in Santa Monica.I provide our driver with the voucher sent to us by Demand Media (owners of Cracked.com and the suppliers of our prize) and we head inside to the front desk. Wow, this is a pretty nice place – modern décor, but very dimly lit. (On purpose, apparently. Not just the lobby, but </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1288395132304507887'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1288395132304507887'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/huntley.html' title='The Huntley'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3160347198846359929</id><published>2011-11-02T12:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T10:57:10.844-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Didn’t we wake up in Texas?</title><summary type='text'>I know it’s based on stereotypes, but I usually say on arriving in L.A. that I don’t fully believe I’m there until I’ve seen three things: palm trees, traffic jams, and a celebrity. The first two are always the easiest, and indeed I spot palm-tree-lined streets on our final approach. (From the air, the traffic seems to be flowing on the highway, though.)On our last trip (actually to Anaheim) in </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3160347198846359929'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3160347198846359929'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/didnt-we-wake-up-in-texas.html' title='Didn’t we wake up in Texas?'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8071007107291820746</id><published>2011-11-02T11:45:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T10:51:06.001-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Winging Westward</title><summary type='text'>We push back from the gate on schedule, taxi straight to Runway 18L and roll for takeoff without any delay. Nice.I pull out my headphones in preparation for the in-flight movie, which according to the website will be Cars 2. I saw it in the theater when it was first released, but I’m looking forward to seeing it again. Harold &amp; Kumar is not quite our typical movie fare, so Cars 2’s G rating will </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8071007107291820746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8071007107291820746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/winging-westward.html' title='Winging Westward'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-5781429921567521292</id><published>2011-11-02T10:25:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T10:45:43.408-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And away we go...</title><summary type='text'>So it’s the day of our … okay, I’m not sure what to call it. It’s an overnight trip to LA for a movie premiere, which is not something that has a simple name. It’s too short for a vacation, it’s not a business trip, it’s… just different. My wife Becky and I still can’t easily wrap our brains around it, so we decide just to treat it as a movie date. An overnight, multi-state, Hollywood premiere, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5781429921567521292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5781429921567521292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/and-away-we-go.html' title='And away we go...'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8860800292163944797</id><published>2011-11-01T10:30:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T09:05:48.433-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Very BRWombat 3D Hollywood Adventure</title><summary type='text'>Note: This is the first post for my Hollywood 2011 trip report. Even though these posts are written after the fact, I like to write as if I were narrating the events as they happen, so I adjust the time-stamps on the posts accordingly.   And hey, I know most of you mainly want to know what the movie premiere was like, but to me, part of the experience of any big event is journey surrounding it, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8860800292163944797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8860800292163944797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2011/11/very-brwombat-3d-hollywood-adventure.html' title='A Very BRWombat 3D Hollywood Adventure'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-957582637217515466</id><published>2009-09-13T14:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T14:26:20.243-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Postscript</title><summary type='text'>Those of you who read my Wombat in Anaheim trip report know that my July trip was spurred by the Vocal Majority men's chorus performing and competing at the Barbershop Harmony Society's International Convention in Anaheim. Well, the VM just had our Fall Shows this weekend back in the Dallas area, and our guest quartet was... The Humdingers!You may not have heard of the Humdingers, but that's </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/957582637217515466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/957582637217515466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/09/postscript.html' title='Postscript'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sq1HFjIhsKI/AAAAAAAACro/omqOZ6cDZdo/s72-c/DSCN1134.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8296521548933456413</id><published>2009-08-21T14:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T14:30:43.910-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Epilogue</title><summary type='text'>It’s now August, of course. Hey, it took me less than seven weeks to finish the trip report this time, unlike the four months it took for my last trip!      It’s always a bit of a mind-bender to write these reports in “real time,” but weeks after the fact, if you know what I mean. I have to put myself back into my mindset as it was at the time, even though there have been further developments </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8296521548933456413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8296521548933456413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/08/epilogue.html' title='Epilogue'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/So7y8to--dI/AAAAAAAACrg/Mkk6vE-BOgc/s72-c/DSCN1078.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8965133707103905981</id><published>2009-07-08T21:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T14:02:48.427-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home again</title><summary type='text'>We’re onboard for our final flight, from Denver back to DFW.     I really enjoyed the 757 and its dedicated flight deck radio channel on the audio system. This is a different plane, though, with fewer channels, and the pilot radio shares a channel number with kids’ music. On our way to California, kids' music was all it played, but... hey, here they have it switched to the pilots! Great – that </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8965133707103905981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8965133707103905981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/home-again.html' title='Home again'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/So7uByx14FI/AAAAAAAACrQ/F5L9afUWSGw/s72-c/DSCN1074.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-6125245319314386094</id><published>2009-07-08T17:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-21T09:56:48.948-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Denver. And more Denver.</title><summary type='text'>So we have almost two hours on the ground in Denver, and it’s lunchtime, more or less. What to eat?     The central area of the United terminal at Denver International has a mix of restaurants, but one catches our eyes: Wolfgang Puck Express.      There’s a bit of a backstory to this choice, involving some silliness from our 2005 Walt Disney World vacation. We were in Downtown Disney, again </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6125245319314386094'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6125245319314386094'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/denver-and-more-denver.html' title='Denver. And more Denver.'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/So6z_O6hO9I/AAAAAAAACqQ/a4fNH-z5UPo/s72-c/DSCN1060.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7639446503061234292</id><published>2009-07-08T14:52:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T16:35:56.386-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Off we go... no, wait... okay, off we go, into the wild blue yonder...</title><summary type='text'>We have a short time to wait for our first flight.&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;  Orange County / John Wayne Airport has a large-windowed lounge area overlooking the runways – it’s where we ate lunch when we arrived eight days ago. It happens to be right next to our gate, so we can sit and watch the planes come and go. As an aviation buff, I used to do this for hours at </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7639446503061234292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7639446503061234292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/off-we-go-no-wait-okay-off-we-go-into.html' title='Off we go... no, wait... okay, off we go, into the wild blue yonder...'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/So3Abc5v4wI/AAAAAAAACp4/VQzJGbQoF7U/s72-c/DSCN1055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8515702269156872029</id><published>2009-07-08T09:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T12:49:52.140-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Homeward bound</title><summary type='text'>We’re leaving today.     Back to Texas – back to the heat, to yard work, to my job. But also to our home, to home-cooked meals, to our own comfortable beds. I’m ready – even if we won’t have fireworks from our balcony from now on. Or a balcony, for that matter.     Because of our 9:15 Super Shuttle pickup time, we’re actually able to move at a pretty leisurely pace as we arise, get dressed, and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8515702269156872029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8515702269156872029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/homeward-bound.html' title='Homeward bound'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/So2Lf_hLihI/AAAAAAAACpI/ZCa4LV8O_QQ/s72-c/DSCN1048.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4544296057662135483</id><published>2009-07-07T22:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T08:46:47.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>That’s a wrap</title><summary type='text'>As the crowd disperses, we follow the flow out through the tunnel and out the gate. Goodbye, Disneyland. It’s been really good seeing you again after all these years.     While taking pictures during the Flag Retreat, my SD card memory on my phone ran out of space. I realize with a little chagrin that I don’t have a backup – my extra SD card is in my MP3 player, which I misplaced months ago. Hmm.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4544296057662135483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4544296057662135483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/thats-wrap.html' title='That’s a wrap'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sov95nw5VWI/AAAAAAAACpA/HUYvckNtN3E/s72-c/DSCN1659.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2479705147536519492</id><published>2009-07-07T17:21:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T18:43:58.683-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Retreat!</title><summary type='text'>The Flag Retreat ceremony begins with the Disneyland’s All-American Collegiate Marching Band.     The 15 or 20 young instrumentalists in red, white and blue uniforms march into Town Square while playing a patriotic march. (As I write this, I’m sadly not remembering some of the musical selections or even the specific order of things since I didn’t take notes. I was too busy enjoying the ceremony </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2479705147536519492'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2479705147536519492'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/retreat.html' title='Retreat!'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sos6otHktYI/AAAAAAAACoY/BvXu1JgTLuI/s72-c/DSCN0512.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3316277465766169570</id><published>2009-07-07T16:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T15:57:21.930-05:00</updated><title type='text'>One more stop. No, two more. No...</title><summary type='text'>We may be done with the attractions, but there’s still one more task in the parks: shopping!     Brandon has seen my new Mickey watch and his mom’s new Minnie watch, and he wants to buy his own. So while my parents are heading right to the exit and back to the hotel, Brandon and I detour into the Greetings from California store at the entrance plaza.      It’s a large store, and we have to ask a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3316277465766169570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3316277465766169570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/one-more-stop-no-two-more-no.html' title='One more stop. No, two more. No...'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SosVRmaXW-I/AAAAAAAACoQ/dnEDS-LnbDo/s72-c/DSCN1644.b3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-428447503190862445</id><published>2009-07-07T16:27:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T09:38:47.662-05:00</updated><title type='text'>All good things…</title><summary type='text'>Right at 4:00 we spot Brandon and my dad ambling towards us.     Brandon reports that they were able to ride California Screamin’ and Toy Story again, and they also tried the Orange Stinger, a big swing ride inside that giant orange you see at Paradise Pier. Brandon didn't enjoy it too much -- the high-swinging ride set off his fear of heights.     My dad raves about “Magic Mania.” It takes me a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/428447503190862445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/428447503190862445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/all-good-things.html' title='All good things…'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Soq8BJdBd_I/AAAAAAAACoI/sYHGja1iy-k/s72-c/DSCN0511.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7147211631526469697</id><published>2009-07-07T15:53:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-18T10:00:14.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gold-medal service</title><summary type='text'>My mom and I exit from Monsters Inc. and look for another attraction. We’re freelancing a bit – no plan, no specific agenda, just passing the time with whatever entertainment we find handy. It’s relaxing and fun to do things this way for a change.     Muppetvision 3-D is right next door. Hmm, okay. This is another one of the funny 3-D movies/shows that Disney does so well. I’ve been to the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7147211631526469697'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7147211631526469697'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/gold-medal-service.html' title='Gold-medal service'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoluzDbookI/AAAAAAAACn4/o89_fpVnfC8/s72-c/DSCN0509.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3770997689783369640</id><published>2009-07-07T14:58:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-16T15:54:33.281-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My new pal Roz</title><summary type='text'>Tower of Terror may be my new favorite ride. It’s possible I like it even more than Soarin’, and that’s saying something. I’m definitely surprised how much fun it was.     My mom and Brandon liked it quite a bit also, though maybe not to the point of raving over it like me. I know Brandon is proud of himself for finally facing the ride that frightened him away so many years ago.     My dad’s </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3770997689783369640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3770997689783369640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/my-new-pal-roz.html' title='My new pal Roz'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SohxXTg5MqI/AAAAAAAACnw/xM9rPPFC_T4/s72-c/DSCN0508.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7730719011463426536</id><published>2009-07-07T14:25:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T21:52:54.094-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tower of Terror</title><summary type='text'>The queue winds through the neglected gardens of the Hollywood Tower Hotel.      Brandon and I fill in my parents on the back-story of the hotel – how it was once the place to be for Hollywood stars, but since the lightning strike that caused five people to disappear off an elevator decades ago, it has been left vacant. With that in mind, we have fun all the more looking around the queue and the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7730719011463426536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7730719011463426536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/tower-of-terror.html' title='Tower of Terror'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SodzTyphqTI/AAAAAAAACnY/T0cCkNfofgU/s72-c/DSCN0506.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-5557364323042421130</id><published>2009-07-07T13:19:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T12:43:50.839-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You can go your own way</title><summary type='text'>Lunch at the Pacific Wharf Café was very satisfying. So now what?     For the first time in all of our travels together, it seems that we all have different ideas about what to do next. I’d like to ride the Twilight Zone Tower of Terror. Back in 2003 Brandon and I went to ride the Tower of Terror in Florida, but we only got as far as the preshow – he was 8 then, and while he was prepared for the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5557364323042421130'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5557364323042421130'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/you-can-go-your-own-way.html' title='You can go your own way'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SobyIuo2MWI/AAAAAAAACm4/2PDdcKzsbp8/s72-c/DSCN0501.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7647938216960251519</id><published>2009-07-07T12:45:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T14:32:00.941-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lunch?</title><summary type='text'>There’s disagreement in our group about our next stop.     We normally like to eat early, around 11:00 for lunch and 5:30-6:00 for supper. It’s not only what we’re used to, the crowds generally haven’t yet hit the eateries yet at those times.     It’s now 11:30, and we’re ready to eat, but Brandon and my parents haven’t ridden Toy Story Midway Mania. We’d looked over the food choices available in</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7647938216960251519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7647938216960251519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/lunch.html' title='Lunch?'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoW4pk7osmI/AAAAAAAACmY/_Q3fZE4iP88/s72-c/DSCN0498.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8578371753492851275</id><published>2009-07-07T11:29:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T19:32:18.266-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wheely high up</title><summary type='text'>When we exit from Toy Story Midway Mania, we look around for my parents and Brandon. They’re not in the Toy Story line, hmm.     We’re thinking of going to ride the Sun Wheel – or is it called Mickey’s Fun Wheel now? Either way, it’s the big Ferris wheel. We figure the other three and us will get together sometime.     On the way to the Ferris wheel, I check my phone and see that I have a new </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8578371753492851275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8578371753492851275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/wheely-high-up.html' title='Wheely high up'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoV5WyJX0oI/AAAAAAAAClo/_AwTN8yqmSc/s72-c/DSCN0487.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3200018040070699973</id><published>2009-07-07T11:10:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T12:48:23.642-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Midway Mania</title><summary type='text'>We’re fast approaching the load area, and a male cast member is working there, assigning guests to specific load rows.     He asks how many in our party – five – and I ask him if there is a no-stairs exit available. I think he nods, but he seems preoccupied with the task of dividing everyone up. He then asks us to hold where we are for a moment – aha, I think, he’s going to send us to the special</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3200018040070699973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3200018040070699973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/midway-mania.html' title='Midway Mania'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoRGX4Mnc_I/AAAAAAAAClg/0sjkOQcaRXs/s72-c/DSCN0486.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-6627592622092865415</id><published>2009-07-07T10:53:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T08:46:46.986-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Paradise Pier</title><summary type='text'>We cross the bridge to the east end of Paradise Pier.     I’m trailing behind my family because of my breathing, just taking my time so that I don’t inflame the asthma again. It feels odd going this slow, but there’s also the benefit of making myself enjoy the scenery along the way, rather than being focused only on the destination.     We descend in the circle around what is normally the east </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6627592622092865415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6627592622092865415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/paradise-pier.html' title='Paradise Pier'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoQYTgCcYwI/AAAAAAAAClI/oIzFu9R4JnM/s72-c/DSCN0482.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3330729663288484148</id><published>2009-07-07T10:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-12T15:25:22.453-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep into California</title><summary type='text'>The trolley ride is uneventful, and we disembark and head through the bag check. And I finally remember to take a picture of the Mickey-shaped benches on the way into the plaza.     We’ve talked in a little more detail among us about our specific plans for California Adventure. It’s a bit ambitious, especially considering my asthma, but once we go in the park we’re going to walk all the way to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3330729663288484148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3330729663288484148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/deep-into-california.html' title='Deep into California'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoMjUs5Ol5I/AAAAAAAACj4/npd8H_2v758/s72-c/DSCN0475.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3044381455776430879</id><published>2009-07-07T10:00:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-19T08:23:39.445-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Last day for Mickey</title><summary type='text'>We’ve been in Anaheim one week today, and tomorrow we go home. Today will be our last day in the parks.     There are no schedules to keep to today. We’re just going to enjoy Disneyland and/or California Adventure for most of the day, doing whatever we feel like doing, and then we’ll come back tonight to pack up for the voyage home.Local TV stations are wall-to-wall this morning with Michael </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3044381455776430879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3044381455776430879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/last-day-for-mickey.html' title='Last day for Mickey'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoLGLW14lfI/AAAAAAAACio/tmrqKYldCLs/s72-c/DSCN0470.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-1558973941805648376</id><published>2009-07-06T21:45:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T15:13:43.670-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Day’s end</title><summary type='text'>So Brandon’s off in Tomorrowland, and I have his bus pass. Great.     I get on my cell phone and call my dad. We can barely hear each other, but apparently they are still in line for Space Mountain. What? We left them an hour ago. From what I can hear, they waited in line for about a half-hour when the ride went 101 again. Although a lot of guests left, they hung around in line for almost another</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1558973941805648376'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1558973941805648376'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/days-end.html' title='Day’s end'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoHQkV2p5xI/AAAAAAAACig/jPb4-I8PIsQ/s72-c/DSCN0464.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2417136369136203744</id><published>2009-07-06T18:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T10:23:15.511-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Main Street</title><summary type='text'>Into and through Sleeping Beauty Castle we go.     As we cross the drawbridge and enter the hub, I spot the Plaza Inn restaurant off to our left. No, I’m not at all hungry – we were still at Club 33 just two hours ago – but the Plaza Inn is where my friend Lara, who came to the VM rehearsal last Wednesday night, works. I’ve promised to try to visit her “in her native environment” here at </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2417136369136203744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2417136369136203744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/main-street.html' title='Main Street'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoGLgHKJMNI/AAAAAAAACiI/IVXjYUs8so8/s72-c/DSCN0459.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-1860847735143654792</id><published>2009-07-06T17:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T18:42:14.708-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Winding down</title><summary type='text'>Our monorail ride is over, and we discuss our next options as we descend the stairs from the station.     My parents and Brandon are going to try Space Mountain again, on the off chance that it is running now, so away they go. Autopia is still not up, so the rest of us head towards Fantasyland.     We walk around the Matterhorn, and the long queue of people waiting to ride on the Tomorrowland </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1860847735143654792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1860847735143654792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/winding-down.html' title='Winding down'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoCuyZmEb7I/AAAAAAAACho/HVuyyB-itLI/s72-c/DSCN0453.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-1484937842139180010</id><published>2009-07-06T17:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T15:01:42.157-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In the loop</title><summary type='text'>As we step off the train at the Tomorrowland station, we bid goodbye to Brandon and my mom and dad as they head to Space Mountain.     It’s clear that Autopia is 101 – cast member code for an attraction being down – so Benjamin reluctant agrees to come ride the monorail. We assure him that if Autopia is open when we return he can ride then. We are traveling the full loop, after all!      We walk </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1484937842139180010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1484937842139180010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-loop.html' title='In the loop'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoB7JhMH06I/AAAAAAAAChI/ZBfQCB7H6WY/s72-c/DSCN1585.b3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7095399894409477145</id><published>2009-07-06T16:24:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-10T11:00:49.470-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Freedom</title><summary type='text'>What a thrill that was.     Many times you don’t know that something is “once in a lifetime” until much more of your life has passed. However, there are some events so unique, so rare and exclusive (and, yes, so expensive) that you are sure right away that you are likely never to experience them again. Staying in the Disney Wonder’s Walter E. Disney Suite was one. Club 33 was definitely another.</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7095399894409477145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7095399894409477145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/freedom.html' title='Freedom'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SoBDAL_q4VI/AAAAAAAACgw/h2K8eLLRfNU/s72-c/DSCN0441.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2249559203442068511</id><published>2009-07-06T15:49:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-15T12:34:09.748-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Club 33, part 6</title><summary type='text'>The s’mores parfait is quite good.It has a light chocolate mousse on a bottom layer of graham cracker crumbs, and is topped with mini-marshmallows and dark chocolate shavings. Very tasty indeed, but not quite to the same level as the tiramisu cup or the layered mousse-cake.     I, for one, am stuffed, but very pleasantly so. They may have to carry me out of here, or I may just become as permanent</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2249559203442068511'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2249559203442068511'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/club-33-part-6.html' title='Club 33, part 6'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sn-V_RFuF3I/AAAAAAAACgY/-Js-3JUeVFc/s72-c/DSCN0438.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2623846302974572164</id><published>2009-07-06T15:32:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T17:11:14.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Club 33, part 5</title><summary type='text'>Our entrees are disappearing. I finish mine and wait for some of the others to finish before we attack the dessert buffet.     Brandon has excused himself and then returned from the restroom. I normally don’t include these details in our trip reports, except that this time Brandon comes back raving, “That is the nicest bathroom I have ever seen!” Okay, this I have to see.     I excuse myself from</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2623846302974572164'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2623846302974572164'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/club-33-part-5.html' title='Club 33, part 5'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sn9ILUrn_vI/AAAAAAAACgI/fedeKlaaJBg/s72-c/DSCN0435.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3925223160963712287</id><published>2009-07-06T15:01:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T13:48:41.164-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Club 33, part 4</title><summary type='text'>The food, every bite of it, is wonderful.     The broccoli cheese soup is at a perfect temperature for sipping, creamy, flavorful, with just the right amount of bite from the green chilies. It’s delicious.      The fruit, cheeses and meats are all tasty as well. The Caesar salad is… well, it’s hard to mess up a Caesar salad, and this one is good.     The crab claws are large, with lots of </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3925223160963712287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3925223160963712287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/club-33-part-4.html' title='Club 33, part 4'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sn8YHuOK8nI/AAAAAAAACfo/vd64dV7RDcY/s72-c/DSCN0432.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-987011271243775433</id><published>2009-07-06T14:28:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T21:25:34.011-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Club 33, part 3</title><summary type='text'>Food, glorious food.      I’m ready for it, but as I stand, I can’t help but marvel at the riches of the room we’re in. A famous photograph, that of Walt Disney being presented with his special Oscar for Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (one full size and seven small ones) by Shirley Temple, is hanging right above my head. Wow.     As we follow the directions of our server out of the trophy room </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/987011271243775433'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/987011271243775433'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/club-33-part-3.html' title='Club 33, part 3'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sn30oa41xGI/AAAAAAAACeg/g6UBfGIZJi0/s72-c/DSCN0426.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8572953249802505921</id><published>2009-07-06T14:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T17:02:31.401-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Club 33, part 2</title><summary type='text'>We need to concentrate on our menu, but it’s so hard not to look at all the historic photographs and other items around us.     Even when we do focus on the menu, the selection of entrees is so enticing that it’s hard to pick just one. Here are our choices:     Roast Monk Fish, Rock Lobster Bisque, Spiced Arugula SaladPan Seared Chateaubriand, Tempura Maui Onion, Cabernet Demi-GlaceCertified </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8572953249802505921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8572953249802505921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/club-33-part-2.html' title='Club 33, part 2'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sn30ooiPKoI/AAAAAAAACeo/vsGWl-ASBBg/s72-c/DSCN0422.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4507986573614043228</id><published>2009-07-06T14:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-08T09:54:15.588-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Club 33</title><summary type='text'>The walk is shorter than I think it will be, and we arrive at the Club 33 entrance right at 2:00. Okay, maybe 2:01.     In our two days in the parks at Disneyland, we’ve walked by this door or at least looked its direction at least a dozen times. Now, at last, it’s our time to push the button. We’re the lucky guests who get to enter this time!     I step over and swing open the little brass door </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4507986573614043228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4507986573614043228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/club-33.html' title='Club 33'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sn2P3mvt7eI/AAAAAAAACd4/rnm5Eo9VE-E/s72-c/DSCN0418.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8289127120300825200</id><published>2009-07-06T14:00:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T17:32:04.251-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Let’s all sing like the birdies sing, but hurry it up, will you?</title><summary type='text'>We turn right out of the Jungle Cruise exit and walk the short distance to Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room.     Honestly, the six of us who visited the Tiki Room yesterday are not overly excited about attending another showing, but at least my parents and aunt &amp; uncle haven’t seen it. And the timing should be fairly good. It’s not that long of a show, so we should be able to get in, see the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8289127120300825200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8289127120300825200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/lets-all-sing-like-birdies-sing-but.html' title='Let’s all sing like the birdies sing, but hurry it up, will you?'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnyqccGQm_I/AAAAAAAACdo/Wt2QoeBYcRc/s72-c/DSCN0415.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8198629471566539002</id><published>2009-07-06T13:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T15:03:10.731-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Return to the jungle</title><summary type='text'>We exit from Pirates on to Royal Street and gaze back towards the entrance to Club 33. Still more than an hour to go until our reservation – probably a bit to early to be hanging out in the doorway.      So let’s see... Hey, Indiana Jones is right next door. Yes, sir, I’d be so excited to hike through that three-mile standby queue again for another opportunity to shut down my lung capacity. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8198629471566539002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8198629471566539002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/return-to-jungle.html' title='Return to the jungle'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnyH9I5lQRI/AAAAAAAACdQ/5MOpgMPnQiw/s72-c/DSCN0409.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7874400360375437845</id><published>2009-07-06T12:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-07T10:18:21.130-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pirates again</title><summary type='text'>Okay, what now? We again turn down an appeal from our kids to ride Splash Mountain – hopefully tomorrow – and decide to head back towards Adventureland. I want my parents to experience Pirates.     We make our way around past Splash and the Haunted  Mansion. I enjoy the view out across the Rivers of America over to Tom Sawyer Island… er, Pirate’s Lair at Tom Sa… Pirate’s Lair… whatever the island</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7874400360375437845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7874400360375437845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/pirates-again.html' title='Pirates again'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnxD72JoEyI/AAAAAAAACc4/81OqDUncQLw/s72-c/DSCN0406.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7637644774011546790</id><published>2009-07-06T12:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T16:01:29.838-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Critter Country</title><summary type='text'>We continue on past the Haunted Mansion in the same general direction, which brings us into Critter Country.     The starring attraction here is, of course, the wonderful Splash Mountain. The best-themed log flume ride anywhere, in my humble opinion, it is brimming with the wonderful characters from Uncle Remus’s tales in the all-but-buried-and-forgotten Disney film Song of the South. We follow </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7637644774011546790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7637644774011546790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/critter-country.html' title='Critter Country'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SntD5QzFL-I/AAAAAAAACco/w_lqP9F7pEM/s72-c/DSCN0404.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2080390723889004319</id><published>2009-07-06T12:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-06T09:02:56.081-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Haunted Mansion</title><summary type='text'>With our circuit of Disneyland by train complete, we continue back to the New Orleans Square station and disembark.     Okay, we have over two hours until our lunch reservation. Let’s see what we can do in that time.     I’d like for my parents to experience the classic attractions we got to see yesterday, especially Pirates of the Caribbean and the Jungle Cruise, but others of my crew would </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2080390723889004319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2080390723889004319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/haunted-mansion.html' title='Haunted Mansion'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Snrhmdgk7eI/AAAAAAAACcg/O7RYkuzqwzQ/s72-c/DSCN0403.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-6862961316249124841</id><published>2009-07-06T11:44:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T16:10:50.471-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In and around Disneyland</title><summary type='text'>We trace our route into California Adventure in reverse, get our hands stamped and exit the park.     It feels a bit odd leaving a park within a hour of when it opened, but we are just going right across the entry plaza into Disneyland, without any detours. No, wait, scratch that. There are a couple of new Honda sedans on display in the plaza, hybrids presumably, and my dad, Bob, and Ron are </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6862961316249124841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6862961316249124841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/in-and-around-disneyland.html' title='In and around Disneyland'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Snn0I94vZJI/AAAAAAAACbo/cqlAGfc6PUE/s72-c/DSCN1510.b3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3002349207494301567</id><published>2009-07-06T10:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T10:51:33.368-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Soarin’ (yeah, I know, Over California)</title><summary type='text'>Once we’ve posed for a few pictures, we move on under the Golden Gate bridge, into Sunshine Plaza.     I’ve seen pictures of the entire park, of course, and I’m enough of a Disney fanatic that I can locate this and any of the other ten Disney parks around the world using Google Earth or Google Maps, zooming into the satellite picture alone, without having roads marked or cities labeled. So </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3002349207494301567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3002349207494301567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/soarin-yeah-i-know-over-california.html' title='Soarin’ (yeah, I know, Over California)'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnmpaYzG2KI/AAAAAAAACbI/E9QAauBcn6I/s72-c/DSCN0380.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2715096125450206737</id><published>2009-07-06T10:20:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T18:30:19.277-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A new Disney park</title><summary type='text'>With our Club 33 complimentary park passes in hand, we’re free to do what we want for the next four hours!     Following our plan, we walk past the giant “CALIFORNIA” letters and present our passes at the gate. We’re in!     California Adventure is a completely new Disney park to me, and that’s not a common thing. Let’s see, I guess the first time I visited Disney’s Animal Kingdom in Florida was </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2715096125450206737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2715096125450206737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/new-disney-park.html' title='A new Disney park'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnjDjRwvGvI/AAAAAAAACa4/GOjiPXd99GM/s72-c/DSCN0379.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-1231813913007267700</id><published>2009-07-06T10:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T15:59:04.943-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Complimentary</title><summary type='text'>Our Club 33 “lunch” reservation isn’t until 2:00. Becky and boys are joining Bob &amp; Linda for a bigger breakfast at Molly’s Kitchen again, but I'd rather stay here and conserve my energy. That plus I haven’t had much of an appetite since lunch yesterday.      I ask them to bring me some orange juice from the snack shop when they return, and as long as I stay hydrated in addition, that should be </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1231813913007267700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1231813913007267700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/complimentary.html' title='Complimentary'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Snif2IfAzUI/AAAAAAAACaw/ahN-5KGOxqI/s72-c/DSCN0378.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-5757665790927546470</id><published>2009-07-06T07:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-04T09:39:19.431-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Luxury ahead</title><summary type='text'>I wake around seven o’clock. Wow, what a day yesterday was. I got back to the hotel room just after 2 p.m., and most of the time since then I’ve been sleeping, and sleeping hard.   It feels like I’ve had more sleep in the past 17 hours than I have in the previous five nights combined. I will never doubt again when a celebrity takes time off from performing for “exhaustion.” Okay, I probably will </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5757665790927546470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5757665790927546470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/luxury-ahead.html' title='Luxury ahead'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-6047126327271448801</id><published>2009-07-05T22:20:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-11T11:53:20.744-05:00</updated><title type='text'>At rest</title><summary type='text'>While nine of my family members enjoy California Adventure, I am out like a light.     The entire exhausting experience of the past week has finally caught up with me, and I sleep hard. My breathing has settled down a bit, but it’s very clear that my main problem was exhaustion.     My family comes in several hours later, and I wake. They’ve had a great time at California Adventure, starting with</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6047126327271448801'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6047126327271448801'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/at-rest.html' title='At rest'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Snb8w3Im-5I/AAAAAAAACaA/ckBrCTPobDs/s72-c/DSCN1014.b3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7300079002430559522</id><published>2009-07-05T14:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-03T10:11:40.701-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I want Disney, but I need rest</title><summary type='text'>I’ve just told my family to go on to enjoy the parks without me.     Part of me can’t believe that I’m nearing the entrance to two Disney parks and am choosing not to go in, but that shows the seriousness of my condition. I can’t walk more than a short distance without losing my breath. I haven’t slept much in days. I’ve just come off four days of intense, energetic, physically draining </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7300079002430559522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7300079002430559522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/i-want-disney-but-i-need-rest.html' title='I want Disney, but I need rest'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnYw1xiCgdI/AAAAAAAACZY/PfMBuLwv42k/s72-c/DSCN0377.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8107310851248960149</id><published>2009-07-05T13:33:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T12:55:43.799-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing else matters</title><summary type='text'>Goofy's Kitchen was fun -- once we were all there -- and now we move on, back to the parks.Several in our group have ducked into the hotel lobby to find a restroom, and others are sitting on a concrete bench/wall/planter place in the shade to wait. Brandon wants to go to the hotel gift shop ahead of us, and that’s fine with me. We do have a bit of $$ on our Disney Rewards card, so we’ll have to </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8107310851248960149'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8107310851248960149'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/nothing-else-matters.html' title='Nothing else matters'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4443574888245600190</id><published>2009-07-05T13:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-02T19:44:05.312-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finishing with Goofy</title><summary type='text'>Once we all at last have food, I mention my shortness of breath to my mom.     Besides being my mom, she’s also the medical authority in our family. A retired physical therapist who still keeps her certification current, she can’t officially diagnose things, but she’s pretty adept at pinpoint what some symptoms “sound like.” Obviously my core problem is asthma, but she throws out a term I hadn’t </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4443574888245600190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4443574888245600190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/finishing-with-goofy.html' title='Finishing with Goofy'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnYyoNbRtLI/AAAAAAAACZw/qeocjpPF5tg/s72-c/DSCN0375.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3549383257446332656</id><published>2009-07-05T12:04:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-03T08:24:23.972-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Face time</title><summary type='text'>The buffet at Goofy’s Kitchen is large and enticing.     There’s plenty of both breakfast and lunch items on the buffet – eggs, sausage, bacon, potatoes, waffles, pancakes, fruits, salads, meats, veggies, hot dogs, pizza – as well as a whole row of desserts. And it all looks wonderful.      I go with mostly breakfast stuff. Becky does likewise, though she immediately gravitates toward the custom </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3549383257446332656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3549383257446332656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/face-time.html' title='Face time'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnTltK-UpPI/AAAAAAAACYw/JxrFR4ngiOM/s72-c/DSCN0368.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8673362099543686459</id><published>2009-07-05T11:39:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T15:08:43.764-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Seated</title><summary type='text'>So my Passporter has gone missing. The guidebook is replaceable, and fortunately I wasn’t carrying our park passes and other valuables in it, but the trip notes, covering all of the convention and contest especially, will be very difficult to recreate.     I go back outside to look at the area I was last sitting. Not there. I know I had it in my hands on our walk from the monorail station to the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8673362099543686459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8673362099543686459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/seated.html' title='Seated'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3958544746340703080</id><published>2009-07-05T11:19:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-01T09:24:03.205-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost</title><summary type='text'>So, here I thought my parents, with my aunt &amp; uncle, would be driving to the Disneyland Hotel and meeting us here at 11:00. Instead, they somehow wound up inside the Disneyland park and are currently in New Orleans   Square. Oy vey.      I’m probably sputtering in disbelief while talking with my dad, and I’m kicking myself for not confirming our plans again with them last night or this morning. </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3958544746340703080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3958544746340703080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/lost.html' title='Lost'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnRPEIaOH4I/AAAAAAAACYo/VZCxfTC3Mt8/s72-c/DSCN1007.b3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7925731239889848092</id><published>2009-07-05T11:04:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T21:19:31.678-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Highway in the sky</title><summary type='text'>We're on the monorail!     I love Walt Disney World’s larger monorail trains, but there’s a lot to be said for these window-facing seats on the trains here at Disneyland. They’re built for sight-seeing.      I’m facing the windows on the right-hand side of the train. I recall that when these newest versions of the monorail went into service not too long ago, there were problems with (among other </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7925731239889848092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7925731239889848092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/highway-in-sky.html' title='Highway in the sky'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnOkhFvu_CI/AAAAAAAACYA/dBT5Upo4kwM/s72-c/DSCN0363.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-1349186039010581500</id><published>2009-07-05T10:49:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T14:47:17.854-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Slower and slower</title><summary type='text'>Okay, it’s now almost 10:30 and time to start for the Disneyland Hotel, where we’ll meet my parents and aunt and uncle for brunch at Goofy’s Kitchen. Hey, we were able to do four great attractions in less than ninety minutes! Woo hoo!     We need to get over to Tomorrowland and take the monorail to Downtown Disney, which is only a short walk from the hotel. Pirates exits back onto Royal Street, </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1349186039010581500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1349186039010581500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/slower-and-slower.html' title='Slower and slower'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnNIwz0DNTI/AAAAAAAACXQ/VTh522xLgUM/s72-c/DSCN0355.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3892902568127136205</id><published>2009-07-05T10:26:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-31T07:56:57.882-05:00</updated><title type='text'>No comparison</title><summary type='text'>I remember riding Pirates of the Caribbean on my first visit to Disneyland in 1982. Not everything I rode that day stuck in my memory, but this one did.     I’ve since been on the sister attraction in Florida several times, of course. Many people have said that the original here in California is better, way better even, but I don’t remember the ride in enough detail to compare based on my </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3892902568127136205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3892902568127136205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/no-comparison.html' title='No comparison'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnLo8skXuuI/AAAAAAAACXI/fhl3ydElVL4/s72-c/DSCN0354.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-5786733502590639692</id><published>2009-07-05T10:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T17:02:04.033-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tomorrow, tomorrow...</title><summary type='text'>From the Jungle Cruise, we meander towards New Orleans square.      My “meandering” is pretty slow. Even the mild sloping walkways leading to New Orleans Square are kind of daunting for me, and I pause at the top, directly in front of Pirates of the Caribbean, to catch my breath.     We’ve got about a half hour before we need to board the monorail for Downtown Disney, so I don’t know if we’ll be </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5786733502590639692'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5786733502590639692'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/tomorrow-tomorrow.html' title='Tomorrow, tomorrow...'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnIX8Zkc6KI/AAAAAAAACXA/JEyEXeeocmU/s72-c/DSCN0351.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3801689618228042040</id><published>2009-07-05T10:00:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T12:19:34.235-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How ‘bout a boat ride?</title><summary type='text'>Okay, now I face the walk back, which starts with tackling those stairs again. My breathing is still fairly shallow – not that I was expecting that thrill ride to settle it! – so I’m just going have to take the path back at my own pace.     I had asthma as a kid and grew out of it, but just recently it’s returned, along with some allergies and occasional bronchitis. I have an inhaler, but usually</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3801689618228042040'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3801689618228042040'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/how-bout-boat-ride.html' title='How ‘bout a boat ride?'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnHVyvQZ9eI/AAAAAAAACWo/6rPdsk1C5vw/s72-c/DSCN0345.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2084871260201213746</id><published>2009-07-05T09:44:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T16:28:24.332-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Indy leaves me breathless</title><summary type='text'>We arrive in a theater type room, where a looping black and white film narrated by John Rhys-Davies, as Raiders of the Lost Ark’s Sallah, gives the history of the lost expedition we are going to look for.      The room is also the merge point between the standby and Fastpass lines. There’s a few people arriving with Fastpasses, but they couldn’t have waited any less in line that we have – since </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2084871260201213746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2084871260201213746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/indy-leaves-me-breathless.html' title='Indy leaves me breathless'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2975359416672235258</id><published>2009-07-05T09:31:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-29T10:29:28.954-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A classic beginning</title><summary type='text'>I love me some action rides, but nice, sedate attractions that give a grin are fun, too. This is one of them.     The Enchanted Tiki Room, now being styled as “Walt Disney’s Enchanted Tiki Room,” is just fun. Walt did indeed have the idea for the attraction, which is filled with singing and talking birds, flowers, and more, although he first conceived of it as an exotic Chinese restaurant. It </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2975359416672235258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2975359416672235258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/classic-beginning.html' title='A classic beginning'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SnBpLGJB-nI/AAAAAAAACWQ/Q3SAqW6Xsk4/s72-c/DSCN0336.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-1240131415632947570</id><published>2009-07-05T09:15:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T21:48:25.712-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We’re in Disneyland!!!</title><summary type='text'>I’m still really, really tired from the convention – the rehearsals, the contest, the show, the emotional roller coaster, the lack of sleep – but there is something rejuvenating about being here. It’s an amazing thing.     A few in our group want to take advantage of the facilities just inside the gate before we go further. My indecision about whether to do so myself is handled for me, as a man </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1240131415632947570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1240131415632947570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/were-in-disneyland.html' title='We’re in Disneyland!!!'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sm-22rhME9I/AAAAAAAACVg/tKDPgxPN4YI/s72-c/DSCN0328.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-5471054106154665108</id><published>2009-07-05T09:01:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T15:52:48.989-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Home</title><summary type='text'>As we approach the bag check area that leads to the entrance plaza, I find my mind conflicted. I’m excited about Disneyland, but the excitement is dampened by the news of the monorail crash in Florida.      I still have the practical things to consider, too – we’re planning on using the monorail to save us a bunch of walking in getting to the Disneyland Hotel later this morning. I’ve been </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5471054106154665108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5471054106154665108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/home.html' title='Home'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sm9kLAWNCEI/AAAAAAAACVA/9vOGV6Yq8NI/s72-c/DSCN0322.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8290273116461826593</id><published>2009-07-05T08:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-28T12:52:35.346-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To the parks</title><summary type='text'>We meet Bob and Linda in the hallway and begin our trek downstairs to the ART bus stop.     Bob has some stunning news, which I had not heard before this time – there was a monorail accident at Walt Disney World last night, and a driver was killed. He doesn’t have any more details.      Oh, wow. I have friends who are monorail drivers in Florida. I send up a silent prayer for the family and </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8290273116461826593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8290273116461826593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/to-parks.html' title='To the parks'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sm8501UmyfI/AAAAAAAACUg/iEcuZlRpMfI/s72-c/DSCN0315.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-1924698898649529466</id><published>2009-07-05T07:50:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T21:32:40.977-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What will you celebrate?</title><summary type='text'>Our plan is to start heading for Disneyland right around 8:00, when the park opens.     “Us” is Becky, Bob, Linda, Brandon, Benjamin and me. My parents and aunt &amp; uncle are going to meet us at Goofy’s Kitchen at 11:00.     A month or two ago, I was debating whether I should even think about going into the parks today. I remembered how exhausting the Denver convention was, and we weren’t even </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1924698898649529466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/1924698898649529466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-will-you-celebrate.html' title='What will you celebrate?'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sm5i7niYocI/AAAAAAAACUY/CLKgHc3D9N0/s72-c/DSCN0314.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3549034301230748808</id><published>2009-07-05T07:05:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-27T16:10:11.746-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Disney day!</title><summary type='text'>Have you ever been so tired you couldn’t sleep?     That’s what last night was to me. I’m sore all over, I’m wheezing and coughing, with a runny nose and congestion. I toss and turn, and even turn on the TV for a few hours. From 4 to 5 a.m. I watch the “Omega Glory” episode of the original Star Trek. My family never stirs.     I get maybe one or two hours of sleep total, and even that isn’t very </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3549034301230748808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3549034301230748808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/disney-day.html' title='Disney day!'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-5994805912962758880</id><published>2009-07-04T22:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T21:45:45.637-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ending the day on a high note</title><summary type='text'>The impromptu singing by the pool continues.Brandon and Benjamin stayed for a while enjoying the singing, but then went to change into their swimsuits, and are now back ready to swim. They remind me that they want me to swim with them. I’m reluctant to leave the fun, but I eventually go change.     Of course, when I return and get in the pool, we swim over to the deep end, next to the VM guys, so</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5994805912962758880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5994805912962758880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/ending-day-on-high-note.html' title='Ending the day on a high note'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Sm0TykjqU-I/AAAAAAAACUQ/ZJMV9Hv6Ix4/s72-c/DSCN0923.b3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7312419042989912504</id><published>2009-07-04T20:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T19:02:03.772-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The joy of the music</title><summary type='text'>When we’re finished with dinner, we head back to the room, after first stopping at the Anaheim Resort Transit ticket machine to purchase 3-day passes for the remainder of our trip.     The boys want me to swim with them. That sounds pretty nice – my body could use a soak in the hot tub especially. But mostly I plan on doing whatever will help me rest and recuperate the fastest, so I can handle </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7312419042989912504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7312419042989912504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/joy-of-music.html' title='The joy of the music'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SmztgXZkUeI/AAAAAAAACT4/ehkNL6vVqPI/s72-c/DSCN0924.b3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-5989807592712089759</id><published>2009-07-04T18:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-08-28T08:45:23.026-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Next phase</title><summary type='text'>The bus fills quickly and heads out. And it drops us at the Sheraton! My aching feet appreciate that greatly.     I won’t be returning to the Honda Center, I decide. Yes, the Quartet Finals are tonight, the ultimate event for barbershoppers. It’s going to be an amazing, entertaining evening. I’d love to be there to cheer on Glory Days, and to be entertained by Storm Front once more.     But I am </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5989807592712089759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5989807592712089759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/next-phase.html' title='Next phase'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-595405929722317207</id><published>2009-07-04T17:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T07:34:09.161-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Old friends</title><summary type='text'>We’re finally done performing. It’s hard to believe.     Our next stop is on the upper level of the arena, behind the stage, where a box lunch is being provided for this show’s performers. Of course, it’s closer to dinnertime than lunch time now, but the thought is a nice one.     I’m not planning on eating, because I’m meeting the family back at the Sheraton and we’re eating at the Overland </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/595405929722317207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/595405929722317207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/old-friends.html' title='Old friends'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SmxMqvNQG5I/AAAAAAAACTw/9SzP4A4GyuA/s72-c/DSCN0304.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4157663582643217049</id><published>2009-07-04T16:30:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T21:26:09.465-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brotherhood</title><summary type='text'>We file off the risers, down the stairs, and around through the curtain to the judges pit, where the mega-risers await.     During the several-minute process for the three chorus to get in place, a man makes an appeal for support of the Harmony Foundation, and uses an interesting technique. To demonstrate the benefit of having every voice available singing, he blows a pitch and has the audience </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4157663582643217049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4157663582643217049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/brotherhood.html' title='Brotherhood'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Smu98l16guI/AAAAAAAACTQ/WgPCpX8k_Ww/s72-c/IMG_4094-vi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-7248994262401425429</id><published>2009-07-04T15:55:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T18:01:38.829-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Harmony Foundation Show</title><summary type='text'>The three buses are waiting for us in front of the Sheraton.     We load and make the now-familiar trip to the Honda Center. Just like yesterday, we are dropped off at the top of the ramp leading down to the Center’s loading dock. Unlike yesterday, there’s no competition ahead of us – just another chance to entertain.      We’re just as excited for that as we are for any competition.     The </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7248994262401425429'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/7248994262401425429'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/harmony-foundation-show.html' title='Harmony Foundation Show'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SmuNlFUJQUI/AAAAAAAACSw/M3zKJIY34RY/s72-c/IMG_4050-vi.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-3228395297577811336</id><published>2009-07-04T14:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T14:03:25.835-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The final practice</title><summary type='text'>With that, the mega-rehearsal is done. We let the Masters leave first, since they’re performing earliest of these three choruses.     The VM actually has a little down time now – just a little. While the Harmony Foundation Show starts at 2:00, because we’re the last on stage, we aren’t gathering again until 2:15, back at the Sheraton ballroom. Of course, we’re expected to be dressed and made up </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3228395297577811336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/3228395297577811336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/final-practice.html' title='The final practice'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SmtVogrJMyI/AAAAAAAACSo/S-p4KhXDM6Y/s72-c/VMNewMedalists2009048.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-5285013720687416080</id><published>2009-07-04T13:10:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-25T10:01:36.818-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mega-rehearsal</title><summary type='text'>Eventually everyone’s in place, and we’re ready to rehearse. The feeling of fellowship in the room is overwhelming.     We’re given a few words of logistics – when VM finishes performing at the Honda Center, the last single chorus on the program, we will file off on both sides of the stage down to the risers on the floor and take our places in the center of the mega-risers. The Ambassadors will </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5285013720687416080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/5285013720687416080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/mega-rehearsal.html' title='Mega-rehearsal'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SmsdS7c3b7I/AAAAAAAACSg/Vo_bdu8RQ6E/s72-c/DSCN0302.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8283596275616661671</id><published>2009-07-04T12:46:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T23:35:11.059-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ovation</title><summary type='text'>We sing until about noon, and then it’s time to go to the Marriott for our mass rehearsal with the other two choruses.      I’m looking forward to seeing what kind of sound we can make with 450 champion barbershoppers together under the direction of three of the best directors in the Society. More so, though, it will be interesting being in the room with the Masters and the Ambassadors for the </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8283596275616661671'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8283596275616661671'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/ovation.html' title='Ovation'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-2388472633101161619</id><published>2009-07-04T11:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T16:27:59.889-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still the Vocal Majority</title><summary type='text'>The men of the Vocal Majority gather punctually for the ten o’clock rehearsal. No one is tardy. Almost every member is wearing his silver medal, even the veterans who could rightfully continue to display one of their previous golds. What a classy group of guys.     Warm-up and rehearsal are mostly relaxed. Jim Clancy sets the tone early on by a quick word about the “other guy.” This carries on a </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2388472633101161619'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/2388472633101161619'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/still-vocal-majority.html' title='Still the Vocal Majority'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4489679355624562608</id><published>2009-07-04T09:39:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T13:30:57.297-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Down time</title><summary type='text'>After we finish breakfast, we go back to the room, but find that it’s being made up by housekeeping.     Hey, that’s why we have relatives staying here. We knock on my parents’ door and ask if we can intrude on them for a while. They’re fine with that.     It’s a bright, clear morning, and still a little cool. I sure could get used to this California weather. The temperatures have dropped into </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4489679355624562608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4489679355624562608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/down-time.html' title='Down time'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/Smn9G2nN-nI/AAAAAAAACSA/WqxNHxN6NuU/s72-c/DSCN0295.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-4846759563106017609</id><published>2009-07-04T08:50:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-24T11:45:44.221-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The morning after</title><summary type='text'>I’m in a bit of a fog this morning. Between yesterday’s physical exertion coupled with the mental roller coaster of our loss, and the late night, I didn’t sleep well.      I’m wearing the silver medal today. Again, I’d prefer it in a different color, but hey, I earned this thing, and it’s not like I have another medal to wear like most of the other VM guys do.     Becky, Brandon, Benjamin and I </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4846759563106017609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/4846759563106017609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/morning-after.html' title='The morning after'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-826591273197411279</id><published>2009-07-04T01:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T21:34:36.461-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Medal in hand</title><summary type='text'>Jim Clancy reminds us of the 1978 loss and tells us that “this feels completely different.” Then, VM lost by 10 points, and Jim was filled with “what ifs” and “if only’s.” Here, there’s no regret, no thinking we could have done something more. He is overflowing with pride at our accomplishment.      In fact, he says, he talked with Jim Henry, director of the Ambassadors, after their performance </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/826591273197411279'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/826591273197411279'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/medal-in-hand.html' title='Medal in hand'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SmkcMnbi1lI/AAAAAAAACR4/VJd4mpdoy-k/s72-c/DSCN1078.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-9057316100331168676</id><published>2009-07-04T00:35:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T16:13:58.454-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The gathering</title><summary type='text'>At least half of the chorus is already in the rehearsal room when my family and I arrive. Low-key conversations are going on. Some laughter. A lot of stunned silence.     Hey, at least no tears that I can see.     Still, this isn’t the way it was supposed to be. This was supposed to be a celebration. Every Vocal Majority for the past thirty years got to celebrate during this time. We’ve been told</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/9057316100331168676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/9057316100331168676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/gathering.html' title='The gathering'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SmjR2lc2oxI/AAAAAAAACRw/WP40DqTIzZs/s72-c/DSCN0900.b3.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-8897847805657103716</id><published>2009-07-03T23:16:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T14:32:01.613-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Second place</title><summary type='text'>I allow myself only a moment or two of sitting stunned, and then pull myself out of my seat and start clapping in the direction of the Ambassadors’ section of the crowd. They’ve earned the ovation.     It’s heartening to look to my left and see that every single man and woman in the Vocal Majority section is doing the same. The loss hurts, but the Ambassadors deserve their moment in the spotlight</summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8897847805657103716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/8897847805657103716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/second-place.html' title='Second place'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-6736415435850485235</id><published>2009-07-03T22:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T12:45:13.030-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aftermath</title><summary type='text'>After the Ambassadors finish their set, VM members stream into the corridor of the Honda Center.     My family and I do likewise. With apologies to the next chorus to perform, the men of the VM are finding themselves drawn to each other to try to put what we just saw in context.     The opinions are varied, some still giving us a definite edge, others cautiously expressing that that performance </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6736415435850485235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/6736415435850485235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/aftermath.html' title='Aftermath'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32476640.post-998218587675960303</id><published>2009-07-03T21:06:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-07-22T21:27:12.073-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Ambassadors of Harmony</title><summary type='text'>As the evening wears on, we’re treated to quality chorus after quality chorus. It’s really delightful to relax and enjoy being entertained.     One of my favorite performances is by The Alliance, from Ohio. They first sing the song “Cheer Up Charlie” from Willy Wonka &amp; the Chocolate Factory. They are dressed in dreary overcoats with a bleak London setting in their backdrop, as chorus members who </summary><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/998218587675960303'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/32476640/posts/default/998218587675960303'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://theworldofwombat.blogspot.com/2009/07/ambassadors-of-harmony.html' title='The Ambassadors of Harmony'/><author><name>BRWombat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06287274618875329903</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SlitywTAC7I/AAAAAAAACDk/CjDRS9MyPQ4/S220/Club33Hat.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_h8G0duCnqPs/SmfHGNoBzRI/AAAAAAAACRI/i8ygG9kdCmg/s72-c/DSCN0291.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry></feed>
