So. We stayed at a resort in Orlando – technically in Kissimmee – and we’ll definitely be doing that again. It’s a timeshare place that also does rentals. Unless you have an extremely fixed schedule and a lot of disposable income, buying into one of these is never a good idea. But renting from them, when they have unsold rooms available to the general public, can be an extraordinary deal. We shared expenses with Dennis and Kristi, and even if we hadn’t, we would have still paid tons less for the three bedroom suite at the resort than we would have paid for a hotel room without a kitchenette. And the place was loaded.  Besides the sixteen pools on the property, there were a lot of other activities. We played goofy golf,  we took out the paddleboats, and we took advantage of the reasonably priced on-site childcare. (In fact, owners got all that stuff free, but, again, time-shares are money pits unless your circumstances are completely perfect for them.)

Depending on where we wanted to go, we could have gotten discount tickets to some of the local amusement parks. (Disney barely even offers a AAA discount, so it’s no surprise that we couldn’t find any tickets for ourselves.) Among the parks offering steep discounts to resort owners was one called The Holy Land. This is a real place, presumably about as cheesy and full of bullshit as Kentucky’s Creation Museum (another locale whose doorstep my feet will not darken, lest lightning strike upon my entrance).

Anyway, one morning, while we were out on the paddleboats, we looked up to realize there was some skywriting in progress. The day was clear and perfect, and I’d never seen good skywriting before. In fact, the only skywriting I had ever seen was a shabby “We  [heart]Boobies” that blew away as soon as it was written during the Joy To Life 5K Breast Cancer run/walk earlier this year. So I was majorly excited and spun my boat around several times to keep the plane in view as it spelled out its message.

 

I had so much fun trying figure out what it was going to be,

 

right up until here

 

 

when I suddenly realized the whole message was going to be U+God= something (the ‘something’ turned out to be a smiley face) and stopped taking pictures.

It was an advertisement for the Holy Land.

Disgusting.

But that’s OK. I got back at them.

We parked our swan-boats and got out, and I shouted to the sky, “Thanks, but I’d rather just go to Jerusalem you morons.” I’m sure they got my message and will be acting on it any day.

About jesterqueen: Jessie Powell is the Jester Queen. She likes to tell you about her dog, her kids, her fiction, and her blog, but not necessarily in that order.