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Northwest Airlines commemorative stamp.

Perhaps the only airline that uses buses to transport passengers from the terminal to the plane. Bus Driver: "We'll be boarding you folks just as soon as we can find your pilot and co-pilot." Girl across aisle: "Look in the bar!"

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Poster for the ride located in Epcot's micro version of Norway*, done in the hotel room a few hours later. This particular bit is Odin's greeting: "You are not the first to pass this way," he warns us. We're perfectly well aware of this, since we saw him say the same thing to the previous boat about 15 seconds earlier. The ride's genius lies in its cunning combination of coolness and inanity - "That was the godawfullest stupid fake polar bear I've ever seen! It ruled!" The real name of the ride is...er...Storm, or Tempest, or something like that. I'd call it Tove Jansson's Spash Mountain, except she was Finnish.

The Norwegians made the crucial mistake of putting the movie describe the joys of trolls and oil drilling after the ride, so anyone familiar with the thing (or warned in advance) makes a break for the exit. "Wait! We have a movie!" "We know!" Slam! Your time will be better spent in the Norwegian bakery down the street, which does an excellent Viking Chocolate-Chip Cookie.

Hidden Mickey: Look in the Viking boat on the far left of the mural as you wait on line.

*One assumes that the real Norway is not covered entirely in asphalt, and that it rarely reaches 105 degrees except around some of the geothermal bits.

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The Art of Housekeeping. Crap I-Zone picture.
The staff of Wilderness Lodge did a commendable job dealing with the unbelievable amount of crap with which we filled their nice clean rooms. The first day, we came home to find the beds made and the stuffed animals carefully arranged as though in some seditious plushy conference. The second day, someone took a washcloth and neatly folded it into a little toothbrush sleeping bag. (Susan: "I'm not sure I want our toothbrushes cohabitating.") You can see it here in the form of the little flat white lump at the lower left. On the third day, someone took a fanned washcloth, toothpaste, comb, and various other articles and made a little arrangement in one of the drinking glasses.

Towel folding is apparently a Disney art form, since at our first meal in the Whispering Canyon Cafe, our waiter ("Jeffro") took a dampish washcloth, rolled it neatly, and magically transformed it into...no, best not to think about it. It was terrifying.

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Captain America Jell-O.
Skip a couple days to Universal Islands of Adventure. The first section in is Marvel Island. "You gotta understand," Susan explained to the others, who were mystified by our wide eyes and incessant giggling, "This is like the Shroud of Turin for us." And it's true. Whether you're trying not to puke on the Storm teacup ride or shouting "FREE LATVERIA! MUTANT RIGHTS NOW!" at the parade of heroes and villains on little four-wheelers,* it's the sort of thing that'll put any Marvel reader in touch with her inner 10-year-old.

This particular delicacy comes from the Fantastic Four Cafe. It's nothing special. Red and blue Jell-O, whipped topping, and a cherry. Susan shared one with me. It's one of the finest things I've ever eaten.

*Not that I would ever do this.

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Universal - Jurassic Park.
Not my favorite movie ever, to put it mildly, but a cool chunk-o-amusement-park. Top shows a vignette from the JP water ride, in which the dinos have run amok, destroyed the holding area, and (here) apparently eaten a park employee called Eric.* Bottom picture is the JP gate, which is, if you'll pardon my Anglo-Saxon, really fucking cool.

*So who is Eric? Ride designer? Costumer's child? Hated supervisor? Answers on a postcard, please...

the dada server

http://www.smalltime.com/dada.html

Your secret name is George Clooney.
The animal which symbolizes you is herpes.
The color of your soul is 11:15pm.
The celebrity you most resemble is oval.
Your special pain or illness is coffee grinds .
Your most important time of day is Jessie.
The shape of your life is gazelle.
And the flavor which identifies you most is pink.

Feh. Tell me something I don't know, Einstein!