The Decorators

On Disney property in Orlando, there rests a campground that is the epitome of quiet country living. Themed to the wild frontiers of the once growing United States, this resort/campground is aptly named Fort Wilderness. The simplicity of the life offers a serene backdrop upon which many imaginations come alive - maybe a little too much for some. See, there's a strange tribe of people that live in Fort Wilderness. They call themselves The Decorators.

Now, I've been staying at Fort Wilderness my entire life and never even knew that this was something people did. I've seen campsites with extra large Christmas lights, motor homes with mickey-shaped umbrellas, and golf carts painted to look like Tigger, but I never gave it a second thought. Why would I expect that there was a band of Disney nuts so profoundly fanatical that they would warrant a special on Bravo? Maybe I should have?

Maybe not. Maybe gawking at the motor home with the oversized porcelain Cinderella Castle and the overpriced Mickey, Minnie, and Pluto could've been enough, but I had to actually meet one of the Decorators to fully convince myself. Convince myself that these people indeed were insane.

She asked us if we had heard of "The Decorators" in a way that disregarded any opportunity to answer "no" - of course we had, and if we hadn't, we should've. She proceeded to tell us about her big flub-up, accidentally sending an email to Meg Crofton that she had been working on for a week while we proceeded to gawk at her arrangement.

It's The Decorators, her email asserted, that are a huge reason that people stay in Fort Wilderness during all the major holidays, and doggone it! They should get something in return, shouldn't they? After all, who would come to stay at Fort Wilderness if it weren't for this small clan of light-hanging, figurine-placing Disney zealots. The tourists come to see them she told us. Of course they do.

I mean, after all, who would go to Disney without taking into consideration what The Decorators have in store for that time of the year? They are indeed, a key feature of the Disney organization; and for all of the selfless service they have given the Disney resort, isn't about time they were compensated? Right? Guys?

Pet-sitting

So I was talking to my older brother. Living the working life in Manhattan with his veterinarian wife, his days can be both wacky and mundane. This story, however, stretches the limits of both. As it turns out, one of his wife's clients asked them to dog-sit her two Yorkshire Terriers. The client, a budding producer and seasoned socialite, needed to fly out to L.A. for a month for a new film she's producing and simply didn't have the time to take care of her dogs. She said she'd pay them $2,500. Just to feed the dogs and take them for a walk every day? Wow! What a steal! But wait, there's more!

The dogs drink nothing but Acqua Panna, bottled at the source in Tuscany; it must be served in a glass bowl. The owner has provided them with two cases (she will send them more as needed). I joked with my brother, "the dogs are drinking better than you!" "Not anymore," he replied (looks like they'll need extras sooner than later). Oh and on top of that, they need to scoop the dog food out of the can - only the food that doesn't touch the metal will be fed to the dogs; it must be served in a glass bowl. I didn't ask him about walking the dogs, but frankly, I don't want to know. You don't walk dogs like that, they walk you. Hearing about people like this make me happy I don't live in that world, but it also makes me want to write a screenplay. You can't come up with anything better than this.