A Vanilla Day in the Life in Pictures

f you happen to follow me on twitter or peruse my ranting blogs the fact is that I rant a fair amount about my life and surroundings.   The truth is is my reality isn’t most people’s reality and this offers a visual look into th every day coming and goings in my life.  There is no nudity, rope work, sex, kink, or faces.
Loews Royal at UniversalI joke that I own a home that the Chesty Blonde and our children live in.  I live on airplanes and in rooms filled with strangers.  With rare exception my closest friends all live equally nomadic lives and we only ever see each other in other cities, usually at great hotels and excess filled events.  Its not a bad life if if it doesn’t kill you.
A chronic insomniac I collapse in exhaustion at the end of most days only to be wide awake 2-3 hours later with my mind racing.  Like a vampire or thief much of my public movement is done under the cover of night or before the first light of day.Orlando Lights at night after leaving the airport On this occasion I landed at night, met my driver and was whisked away in relative silence.  If you’ve been in the back on one black Lincoln you’ve been in the back of them all.  The outside world passes by as you struggle to control, survive and on occasion dominate your own little piece of reality.  What truly makes a difference in my day is the brief ability to on ocassion have a conversation with a real person.  Not someone who like me is whoring goods or services, their intellect or soul in the name of greed, profit and power.  No those people are are all waiting for me on the other side of that sedan’s door.  Lurking, Posturing, hoping and dreaming.  I know I’m just like they are when not hidden behind sunglasses and tinted windows.   A a good day is a few unexpected minutes with a friend or lover.  A driver who speaks  English and isn’t afraid to talk to me.   My favorite conversations are often 30 seconds exchanges on meaningless topics with strangers.
One of the reasons I chose to do the pictorial on this trip is it is the first one I’ve not had people in tow with in 8 months.  The collection of people who travel with me truly get more of my time than my own wife.   They are my friends and in many ways my own set of twisted but loved companions.    On this occasion I would arrive at my hotel, drop my bags and slip away into the shadows alone.   Sure its wasn’t my few hours of respite on the dark hidden underside of LA but rather in the Family Vacation capital of the world.  Still there had to be something dark out there waiting for me to indulge in.
As usual I was right.  There was trouble lurking right around the corner for me but it was not the kind of trouble I look to find.  I landed in a world  filled with Cheerleaders and their mom’s.  It was some national cheer and dance something or other.  It was a scene right out of the movie “Bring it On” and I was instantly in hell.  First because they were filling up every damn restaurant with in walking distance  and secondly 40 year old divorced stage mothers or worse the still married ones looking to cavort with a well dressed man aren’t exactly my type.  Cheerleaders, Cougars, and guests doing the YMCA at theHard RockI was polite when one woman asked me to join her for dinner out of the blue as we walked from place to place looking for a table, essentially alone although we were walking almost together down the same street and into the same establishments.  She was pretty, very tall and platinum blond.  No rings on her fingers that mattered and her shoes cost more than mine which is always impressive.  So why did I say no?  Why wouldn’t I indulge in a little conversation, some harmless flirting, or even teeter on the edge of something more illicit?
One reason and one reason only I wanted to indulge in one of my lessor known obsessions.  One of my original Fetishes.  MuBeatles Trumpet & Hand Written Music from the Hard Rock Orlandosic!
There is something   about being around a guitar that takes me back to a time when anything was possible and I was looking to sell my slightly less tarnished soul for something I loved and money was only going to be the by product.
Oh the stupidity of youth.  So as the music blared, Mothers and daughters shook their asses with joyous reckless abandon and I watched a pink caddie rotate above the bPink Caddilac at the Hard Rockar.
The rest of the Story really isn’t much to tell beyond the pictures.
I had my one beer for the week with a salad for dinner. Not exactly a hedonist’s delight but on occasion I do what ever I can to prolong my own existence
my only beer 2
A Few Minutes alone in a my room
Alone with a TV and all cell phones, Ip connections and computers off I enjoyed a few rare and sane moments of quiet.
THe Pool I'll Never use 2The View from my room when the sun comes up was marvelous but soon enough I’d be clad in an over priced garment and a bold tie.  I would take a meandering route to the meeting rooms.  through the walk ways and through the paths in the gardens just so I could actually be outside and see the sun three times.
A room with a tropical viewSoon after I would head into a room with no widows, a room  by its very design to eliminate all influences and possibly the existence of the outside world.
A name less face not on a stage I would become an audience member in a room with 200 hundred people.  Usually I would know 150 of them but this time I only knew 15 its was as close to anonymous as I get to be in my Nilla life.   I wasn’t a scheduled speaker, I wasn’t the key note or even a break out topic I was in a relative sense just a normal soul.  This for me was an odd experience but a welcome one because rather than  shaking hands and making connections I had small meaningful conversations, I went into geek mode absorbing not the market impact but the actual things than made the lights flash and data whiz around the world.  I got a full blown geek boner at one point. Lunch With A Brunette in a Bikini
During lunch I would sit outside and within two minutes of sitting down and obsessively staring at my crack berry a stunning brunette in a pinkish orange bikini would sit down next to me and start a conversation.  The site of a man sitting in the sun by the pool in a blue suit and dark shoes must have been something.   In less than 18 hours I’ve had two women strike up a conversation with me out of the blue.  Both were stunning.  In this case she was single, a grade school teacher away on spring break with friends, all female and single.  She talked and talked, I mostly listened.  Later I bragged to the Chesty Blonde that the Florida sunshine was making me extra sexy and I was bringing home new play friends.  She wasn’t very worried.  Another female friend told me it was because I looked respectable and like a good meal ticket from a distance.  No wedding ring, expensive suits, expensive watch, high end shades.   It might be they were only interested in the quality of my wallet ( coach BTW) but I think she was wrong that these women were just looking for a conversation with a sexy man who was literate and that failing to find that I was a suitable altenative.
Running or Running Away Later I would steal away from the meetings for 75 minutes and after slipping onto something more comfortable truly escape.  Not to meet any of the women I’d encounters, or to troll for others but on a date date with my running shoes and I Pod.   60 minutes later I was refreshed and my mind was as clear as it gets.    A few more meetings a two hour cocktail party later the rejuvenated me headed out with acquaintances to dinner at a celebrity chef”s restaurant (over rated)  after which I would disappear into the night as they sang and danced.  I escaped through a series of hall ways and corridors.
A Series of Hallways
Eventually The night wound down, there was no hell to be raised and a man who had been feeding his diet coke habit mercilessly made his way back to his room.  Do  you really want to know what I do at 3am.
Order room service and watch infomercials.  On this occasion I collecyed all the orchid from my room service tray arranged them on the hard wood dressed and sen the picture to the blonde.
What I really do at 3 am
The next morning I repeated the process except for the Brunette at lunch.  I killed 2 cell phone batteries, and did my best to wear the keys of my crack berry.  I counted the minutes until the arty was over.  I dreamed of a good tomato bisque and Key lime pie neither of which I would end up getting by my own choice.  The following day i snapped this picture as I walked across the Tiki themed bridge to meet my driver.
A Pool I'll never use Like so many things it was still elegant but some how lost the mystery and sexiness and magic the same water garden had cast over me the  night I arrived.   Still I was finally headed home.  Any week when I sleep in the same bed for more than one night is a good week.  A week where I fly home on a Wednesday and have the Blonde meet me at the airport is a great week.

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