Orlando, photographic trickery, and really hard beds.

Somewhere in the darkness, it dawned on me that I HURT! We're not talking simple back pains that a Motrin or a Naprox will fix, we're talking pain. Medieval pain. Now I know how those poor guys felt on the rack. Actually, maybe the rack was more comfortable.

I didn't know that you could put a box spring on top of another box spring, and call it a bed. I've slept on tatami mats in Southeast Asia that were more comfortable.

This all started as the vacation of all vacations. We rented a house that boasted a large pool that was smaller than some jacuzzis I've seen, sleeping for up to 400 people (O.K., 16), but a kitchen with a table for six. We had nine in our party. I suspect the grandkids will recover shortly. The adults are all in various stages of medications or chiropractic care. Walking around MouseWorld for four days, and Shamu's kingdom for a day pretty much destroyed whatever cartilage that was left in ankles, knees, and hips.

And prices? 14 bucks a day to plant your car in the lot? Must have been a retired employee of the Pittsburgh Parking Authority working there. Gift shops? Sticker shock has a whole new meaning for me. How about 49 bucks because your purchases at the gift shops—wait a minute, not my purchases, its all Grammie's fault—caused your bag to be eight pounds overweight.

The trip was one comedy after another. The only saving grace was that Air-Tran was non stop and precisely on time going and coming home. We arrived in Orlando full of vigor, and ready to go into attack mode. Bring on the rides and the attractions. Ooops, what's that on your checked luggage? Grease? No, its a ragged tear on a first time used bag. After a little negotiating ("who starts your car" really works), we got a brand new bag which was actually a little better quality than the one that got destroyed. A bit bigger too.

Well O.K., we've blown an hour going through two shoe clerks and a manager, but we got the baggage deal done. Let's go see the rental car guys. Without mentioning the company, the logo is all red in color, and the rental car company starts with an "A". Since there were seven flying in from the Burgh, and two driving down to meet us, we needed two rental cars. Having negotiated a really great rate, we were told at the service desk that yes, the rate was fine, but if Grammie and Pappy wanted to drive, that would be an extra 25 bucks a day, thank you. My son, who told me to take it easy on the baggage folks, lit up like a Christmas tree.

Finally, "A"'s representative told us to call the toll free online reservation number to work out the details. I asked why did I have to call? I'm not sure where they get these children who run rent a car counters, but I'm guessing they are not displaced NASA workers from Canaveral. In the end, we got our price, our two cars, no surcharges, but the folks behind the counter were highly put out because—gasp—they had to prepare the rental agreements by hand, with no help from the computer.

So the moral of the story is forget about identity theft, robbers preying on tourists, and all of the horrible things alligators do to small dogs. Beware of those posing as legitimate businesses, and take lots of money if you're going to see the big park where mouse ears seem to be mandatory. Next time I think I'll go camping at Clear Creek State Park.