* If the World Pavilion at EPCOT taught me anything, it’s that every culture offers both a reason, and a means, to drink in public.
* Me: “Do you want a picture with Donald Duck in a sombrero?”
* Chinatown featured a troupe of performing Chinese acrobats. One little girl balanced a table on her feet – first by its surface, then by its edges, then by two legs, then by one leg, then while spinning it with her feet. Afterward, she and the other children were probably ushered quickly into a windowless room, lest they discover cell phones.
* I stayed at the MGM Grand last year, home to one of Tom Colicchio’s three Craftsteak restaurants at the time (there are now only two). I walked up on Sunday afternoon and made a reservation for dinner Sunday evening. Apparently you can swing that at one of the finest steakhouses in the history of human civilization. Not at Il Fake Eye-talian Ristorante in ItalianTown at EPCOT, though. Neither they, nor any other restaurant, could seat us.
* We got bratwurst at Germantown instead.
* Trying to identify the last stop of the World Pavilion:
Rachel: “Oh. Canada.”
Me: “And their national anthem, ‘The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald’.”
* The fireworks that closes EPCOT each night: no effing joke. I can normally take fireworks or leave ‘em, but this one floored me. No one told me about the mushroom cloud. But now you’ve been told. By me. About the mushroom cloud.