People-watching at DisneyWorld

We snuck in a little Disney trip last week. I like the people-watching almost as much as I like the rides and the scrumptious South African hard cider at the Animal Kingdom Lodge. Well, maybe not quite that much. Anyway, here are some new insights I've unearthed:

I'm still not against tattoos, per se, but I have to report that after looking at a whole lot of them, many drilled into pasty American hogflesh, I have absolutely no interest in ever getting one. First, I'm still in the camp that says, I don't want the same ornament on my body, every day, forever. It's kind of like my old camp buddy Dave's leather choker necklace that he never took off, which then went bad, causing him to think for a few days that maybe his nose had gone insane because the whole world smelled like rancid leather. Okay, maybe it's not so much like that, but I still think it's a good story. Second, unless you *really* have something original, you don't have something original. It looks to me like most people are inadvertently signing up for a new tribe when they get their tats. The Barbwire Arm tribe. Their hated nemeses, the Native American Feather Arm tribe. The Celtic Cross Calf tribe. The Tramp Stamp tribe. The Chinese Neck Symbol tribe. (Unfortunately, it doesn't matter to the rest of the world if your Chinese neck symbol means "Peace," or "Serenity," or "Toaster Oven." It's just a Chinese symbol.) Third: needles with electricity attached.

Footwear seems to unify groups. We saw several families where every single member wore shoes. I imagine that these families have entire rooms in their homes devoted to their shoes armories, and that as they head out to the airport to embark on Diznification, they stream through the Croc rooms yelling "Hut! Hut! Hut!" as they pick out the perfect shoes for various rides and attractions.

It's not just footwear. I haven't done rigorous statistical work on this, but it sure looks to me like if any one teenage girl in a group of three or more teenage girls is wearing flipflops, cotton short shorts, and a camisole top, the likelihood that every girl in the group is wearing flipflops, cotton short shorts, and a camisole top is damn close to 100%. I pointed this out to Jennifer and she called me a pedophile.

If you're going to pierce part of your face, fergahdsake, don't do that ridiculous-looking nasal septum thing. I'm sure this makes me extremely uncool, but that ring in your nose makes me want to tie a rope to you and lead you back to the barn.

High Grade Enhanced Something or Other

It's a Threshold She's Crossed, Alright...

...but I'm not sure it's the one she thinks it is. Apparently Hillary Clinton's new strategy for resurrecting her mathematically-challenged nomination prospects is to give John McCain a new anti-Obama talking point every day. Which leaves me re-evaluating where I find myself on the Clinton Derangement Spectrum. I started out thinking that I supported Obama, but would probably vote for Clinton if she won the nomination. Now I've moved to Phase Two, which entails staying home from the polls if Clinton gets the nomination. There's an element of spite to that, certainly, but I've also become convinced that Mr. McCain is simply a better person than Mrs. Clinton is. More honorable, less craven. Which, of course, rhymes with Wes Craven. But I digress. If she keeps this up, it's entirely possible that I'll move to Phase Three, voting for McCain if Clinton gets nominated, or even Phase Four, giving McCain money to help him keep Hillary, Billary, and their whole circus as far from the White House as possible. Which would put me on a lot of GOP mailing lists for the rest of my life. Which would suck big weiners.