The Casual Visitor

I'm going to admit it, we had extremely low expectations for Orlando when we moved here. Sometimes that's not a bad thing. Like most people, we assumed it was full of tourists excited about Disney or the other theme parks, generally making our lives a crowded, miserable mess. But here's the thing, we live a solid 45 minute drive from Disney. By solid 45 minutes, I mean 45 minutes at full highway speeds with the distance to prove it. As a result, other than a billboard near the house that always seems to be advertising whatever seasonal event is going on at Universal Studios, you'd have no idea you were 45 minutes from the theme park capital of the world. That's a good thing.

The other good thing about being 45 minutes from the theme park capital of the world is that, of the 55 million tourists that make their way to Central Florida each year, we actually know a few. In addition to the friends and family that have made their way to Orlando for the sole (or at least that's what they tell us) purpose of visiting us, there's nearly as many people that we've been able to connect with that are here for their own personal, non Luth-related purposes. Many of those people have been kind enough to take a day or evening from their vacation plans. Last night was such a night.

Since these friends were staying on property at Disney and didn't have access to transportation that wasn't attached to a single rail, we made the 45 minute trek down toward the parks. Of course, since I'm pretty much a theme park neophyte (and am quite comfortable keeping it that way) I'm not terribly well-versed in where to meet people. My only idea was to meet at Downtown Disney, a collection of shops and restaurants that require no park admission. Thankfully, my friends' three energetic kids (ten, seven, and four) had other another idea - the pool at their hotel. Shortly before leaving the house, I received a text with the change of locale and a request that I bring beer. You see, this friend of mine is a craft beer distributor that had been stuck with the likes of Heineken and Budweiser for the previous few days, not that there's anything wrong with that. But his refined taste buds were ready for a change.

I quickly loaded a small cooler while Lindsay made final baby preparations, got the daughter situated in the car, and we were off for Disney.

There are friends in life, regardless of how far you may drift apart - I think it had been five years since we had seen them - that always hold a special place. For us, the Strickmakers are such a couple/family. They had basically adopted me as a pitiful bachelor in Chicago, graciously inviting me to dinner once a week (making sure I got at least one home-cooked meal per week) and pretty much came along for the ride when Lindsay and I met. They ended up moving to California to chase Hollywood dreams (I still blame Reese Witherspoon for stealing my friend's career), then back home to Ohio to join the family business, starting a family right around the time we got married, and finally settling in Nashville a couple years later. We stuck around Chicago, spent 2.5 years in India, moved to Orlando, and started a family when their three kids were all older than three. Slightly different time tracks and slightly different geographies.

Last week when he called, I had to admit I was excited to see them. Outside Kurt yet again trying to rationalize his unintentional roast of me at my rehearsal dinner nearly ten years ago, it was a pretty perfect night. For reference, last night's exchange went something like this:

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Kurt:"No, what I really meant to say was....you were ordinary."
Me: "I think the word I have burned into my mind was 'average' or 'exceedingly average'. But ordinary pretty much gets to the same outcome."
Kurt: "Yeah, no...it was that you were 'ordinary' but that Lindsay was 'extraordinary.'

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Mind you, this took far longer than three exchanges but far less time than the actual toast had lasted at the rehearsal. While I can't fault his logic (he hit the nail on the head), it's safe to assume that if smartphones and YouTube existed in 2003, this groomsmen speech would have, at a minimum, seven figures worth of hits. While he was giving this speech, I vividly remember his pregnant wife (who undoubtedly had a clearer head than most) giving him the 'hook' with her eyes, only to have him go on and on about the average, ordinary groom sitting before him.

Regardless, we had a great time, sitting next to a pool, catching up with old friends, introducing our daughter to them, meeting the cool little people they've brought into the world (including the celebration of their youngest's fourth birthday), and enjoying a craft beer or two.

Orlando likely isn't where we'll live forever, but one of the great things about living in Orlando is the casual visit. Rather than forcing ourselves to pick and choose which friends we're going to spend increasingly limited weekends with throughout the year, we're able to drop in and reconnect when they're one of the 55 million. Not a bad deal at all.

Orlando Winters

I lived the first 33 years of my life in the Midwest. Changing seasons were a given, some better than others. Starting in mid-November and lasting until early April, I was relegated to the cold. There might be weeks where car washes wouldn’t open. I might see the sun one day a week. Sounds awesome, doesn’t it? That’s Chicago. In all fairness, December wasn’t too bad. It’s a great place to be for Christmas and the deep freeze hasn’t yet set. January and February are miserable. Anyone that tells you different is either a masochist or in real estate.

Seasons still change in Florida; it’s varying degrees of hot and humid, it rains more in the summer, and every winter day feels like the best of fall days in Chicago, except in Orlando those days last for three months. Everyone said the summers would be brutal. Those people have never lived in Delhi, which hot season ranges from 50 degree heat (that Celsius, folks) to humidity that makes Orlando feel like a desert. In Orlando this summer, there was a heat advisory when it topped 90. In India, I wore a sport coat to work to stay warm when the temperature hovered around that same mark. But this is a post about winter.

Here are the bad parts of living in Orlando in the winter:

¨       It’s too cold to use the pool; that is, unless you’re willing to pay to keep it warm (note, this does not apply to the hot tub)

¨       Some days get too cold to wear flip flops (not that it keeps me from wearing them; I’m a little like the annoying kid at school that wore shorts the first day it broke 50 except I’m wearing flip flops so what do I care)

¨       Having been conditioned with a life of Illinois winters, it gets dark earlier than you would expect given the temperature (in fact, the length of the day is the only thing that winter in Florida has in common with winter in Illinois).

¨       It’s annoying to fly to colder climates because you get hot in the airport when dressed for your destination

¨       It doesn’t snow on Christmas

That’s it. Those are the only bad parts. And since you typically experience a white Christmas about as often as you elect a Senator, the “no snow” thing is quickly negated by the fact I can eat breakfast outside next to the pool I’m too cheap to heat.

You might ask yourself, “but John, you’re an awesome skier, don’t you miss the snow?” Just because one lives in a climate where snow routinely appears in winter (and quickly transforms into some sort of gray, frozen sludge) without a mountain in sight doesn’t mean you’re close to a location with decent skiing. I’m a 90 minute further flight to Denver from Orlando than I was from Chicago. When you take into account total travel time, I could probably argue that my house in Orlando is closer to the slopes than my house was in Chicago (but don’t get be started on O’Hare and traffic). If I want to see snow, I know where to go and how to get there.

As you can tell, I don’t miss the weather in Chicago. I’ve become one of those annoying warm weather people. And I’m OK with that.