Devil and Deep Blue Sea

Between the Devil and the
Deep Blue Sea

by Michael Cannarella

It wasn't a very exciting trip to me when it was first mentioned. It was Gabriela that thought it a great “opportunity”, translate the weather. It has what, as far as I could tell, Florida has always meant to people with WEATHER capitalized when most folks are having winter.

The conference in early March was at Disney World, the “Contemporary Resort”. After a I had been there for just a few hours it seemed like a very strange place to have a labor union conference. After all Disney World seemed to be founded on the proposition that the entire enterprise “Kingdom” could be run with many low wage workers, a kingdom with many serfs and a very small unseen oligarchy in charge. Hard to not see this as the future America our president has in mind.

When I checked in at the hotel, I discovered after a couple of friendly questions that I knew more about the hotel and amenities, after a brief web search, than the two registration clerks. This impression was repeated many times during my stay, and the next morning when I made an inquiry at the bell hop station. The workers were all friendly, but all seemed as new to the facility as I.

As I told several at the conference, on a couple of different occasions, I went to high school here, in Orlando before Disney (BD). “It was my senior year when they figured out who was buying up all that swamp land outside of town.

I had visited AAA before the trip and got a map of Florida and of Orlando. When I opened the Orlando map I discovered that the entire sheet was covered with tiny colored lines. With the very best light I could just make out the names of some of the streets. The years had taken their toll. I didn't know how much of my difficulty was due to the exploding growth of the area and how much was my failing vision. But I did find a couple of land marks then refolded the map and never looked at it again.

That swampy area that was purchased by a number of land companies in the mid 1960's now had a name worthy of one of the earliest Florida explorers, Buena Vista. A good portion of Buena Vista was shaded on the map to denote Disney World. Now Disney's Buena Vista


	Click on map to enlarge

I discovered the first day that how you arrive at the “Magic Kingdom” does made a difference. I arrived of course from the airport on the “Magic Express”, the bus/shuttle service, complimentary transportation of the resort. If I had driven to the resort I probably wouldn't have had the feeling of being in a minimum security prison, a perception I had as I walked around the resort in search of a walkers path. The Kingdom is large. I surely could have walked out on my own, but it would have taken a few hours at least. It was a twenty minute bus ride to the interstate highway out of the kingdom. I didn't have to be told that no one walks out of the kingdom.

Remembering my walk to my room after check in reinforced the feeling of taking residence in my cell block as I walked to the ends of the hall only to find another hall at right angle from the one I came. After several repetitions, end of the hall to find another hall, each hall looking exactly like the last, my tired mind studying the room numbers and arrows, I got to my room.

It was 12:45 AM, I was weary but not ready for bed. I called housekeeping after reading the “highspeed Internet” paper instructions. I needed a cable in order to connect. The cable would be brought up to me by house keeping I was told and then the “have a magical day” came over the telephone line. It at 12:45 AM! It was odd to hear. But, the next morning, it was a good story to tell with the chit-chat with other attendees at the conference.

For me the conference from the first morning had a sameness, like other large labor conferences I had attended, and this sameness was mildly depressing. I had never thought of these conferences in just this way, but the interactions all seemed destined to go no where, pleasantries, potentially interesting people, but the likeliness of a lasting friendship or relationship virtually nil. It was treading water in the shallow end of the pool with no deep water migration possible. It had the effect that the wall paper seemed to hold more interest to me than the people around me.

It is true I had disliked these large conferences in the past, but the location was always often a plus; Los Angeles, Seattle, Albuquerque, Washington DC now Orlando (in early March). The superficial nature of the interactions, was the negative and it had never hit me as hard as now. At the other conferences I now understood the draw to skip out on some of the sessions, a very human attempt to find something more satisfying and real, something to bring home.

The food provided with the conference was good, the speakers, especially Robert McChesney was excellent and intellectually stimulating, however I felt myself to be an alien in this conference world. Thinking about it now in my study I think of moving from a close-up lens, Florida back to my wide angle, the community here in Portland. At fifty-seven years old perhaps my world reach is shrinking. The conference, Florida, all seemed completely out of context for me, unrelated to home, the workshops barely related to me.

In the hotel room, with the two large beds and clothing and suit case spread out on one of the beds, I read, checked email and familiar web sites and rested. The conference moved toward completion.

On Saturday morning I got in touch with Dylan Cannarella, my nephew, (one of my brother's two sons, Dustin being the other). It was good to think about our meeting, and making the arrangements. This was a chance to get out of the “Kingdom” and visit with both Dylan, his wife Vera and Dustin and his wife Colleen and their son. What does Orlando look like? Where do Dylan and Dustin live? I wondered.

That evening I thought about Kevin, my brother who drowned at an early age he two years old me twelve, and I wondered if going to his burial spot was possible. Would I ever come back to Florida? This might be my last stop here for a very long time. Should I try to go to his burial site as a rememberence?

After a couple of calls to my Mother and Brother and no luck in finding where the cemetery was I gave up on the idea. I wasn't sure if a cemetery visit was the remembrance I really had in mind anyway. Even then it seemed more like a movie scene meant to evoke something, a remembrance. Now writing withsome distance I think the remerberance was in thinking of him and speaking with both my mother and brother about Kevin, albeit in relation to the location of his burial site.


	Dylan and Vera

The visit with the two nephews and their family would be good. And it was great to see Dylan and Vera on Sunday morning. Their newish car was the first I noticed, the a small scion Toyota, I got in the front seat. We drove into Orlando which vaguely reminded me of other Florida cities, the lake with the fountain, lots of condo construction and a pleasant Sunday afternoon. We walked around the lake. I remembered seeing the lake long ago and the light from the fountain in the evening after dark.

Dylan gave me an update on the development schemes and a tour of a land development on a decommissioned naval base, I probably would have know it's name if I heard it. Dylan had done a report for school on the purportedly middle income housing which was not middle income. It was the Florida version of a planned community for of course people with money with many infrastructure improvements made and paid for by the city.

Both Dylan's and Dustin's house were traditional Florida houses, they both felt comfortable. Entering them I immediately saw the carport turned into a family room, both had a step down into the added room. The familiarity of the carport, turned family room was a link to my own past. I don't remember garages in the Florida of my youth, only carports. These houses made of cement blocks were the tradition, the neighborhood seemed lived in but well kept up. Both of their houses had been expanded with Dustin contemplating further expansion and Dylan's house sporting a new large deck in the back yard.

The visit was a snapshot into the lives I have known little about until just recently when both families have visited David, my brother in a near by city. Dylan and Vera were recently married and have visited the Northwest on two occasions. Both Dustin and Colene are teaching high school, Dustin at my old high school, Edgewater High. We drove by the school on the way to their house. I do now have a visual image of the walk way down to the street and Edgewater Drive. No telling how long the Burger King has been gone, my only other distant memory and image of the school and the smell of French fries and salt, the salt on my hands.


	Dustin and Colene

Colene and Dustin gave me a brief glimpse into the state of public education in Florida, by talking about their jobs and job challenges. This was not pretty, but both Dustin and Colene seem to be accepting the challenge for now.

Our dinner was at a Pizza and salad place in Winter Park that Dylan and Vera had been to and Dustin and Colene knew about. There was a party on the outdoor dining area and the restaurant was full. The food was good with plenty including a couple of take home boxes. We stopped at a local dairy queen structure, the ice cream establishment had gone independent, but the ice cream was the smooth familiar white frozen cream. After the ice cream treat I said good bye to Colene and Dustin and their son, and then Dylan and Vera drove me back to the Magic Kingdom. Dylan had to show photo id in order to enter the parking area of the Contemporary Resort where we said our good byes. It was a full good day and the best of the trip.

My last day in Florida was a baseball and transit day. I rode the bus to the ballpark, (monorail to a small bus transit center and then to another larger transit center and to the ball park) watched a game, Atlanta Braves and Detroit Tigers in June or July weather, it was March 6th, the sun was hot, and after the game I took the bus home. I wore a Detroit Tigers baseball hat and so I met some people from Michigan and saw others sporting Tiger and/or Detroit paraphernalia.

Riding the bus, that afternoon and the next morning I thought about the drivers, the most helpful and knowledgeable folks I had met in the “Kingdom”. Were they in a union? With the reliance on this transit system, the best in the entire state, I thought about what power these drivers could potentially have were they united. This was one thought I would carry back from the Labor conference.

The next day I rode the “Magic Express” back to the airport slowly transported as if through a warm humid tunnel back into the reality of home, via Denver and the MAX line from the Portland airport. I helped some visitors find their MAX stop and a young couple (they were from Florida) their hotel, they were in town for the ceramic show starting that weekend at the Convention center. How quickly I was transformed from tourist to Portland ambassador with a kind word to our visitors. Waiting for a taxi for the last leg of the trip home I watched as a light drizzle fell. Even before I got in the Taxi I was home.