This weekend I spent time with my family at The Boardwalk, at Walt Disney World. Sometimes, when I meet folks, like for example on a date, I tell them that I've been to Disney World about 50 or 60 times - which is true - and they infer from this that I'm a big Disney fan. And this is somewhat true as well. I do enjoy Disney. They do such a great job of making me feel welcome and safe. But what most people don't understand is that, for me, Disney World - and the Boardwalk in particular - is the most constant thing in my life as an adult. About 15 years ago, my family purchased a timeshare down at Disney. They lived in Jacksonville; I was already an adult and out of the house, living in Austin at the time. I didn't think much of it; it seemed like a fun idea. I didn't know it would grow to be a center of the memories of me and my family. Not much in my life has been constant. I got divorced and went through a series of short relationships. My parents moved; first to Texas, then back, then California, then back. I have no childhood home and few childhood friends. I, myself, moved - first to New York City, then San Francisco, then Portland. The fact is, my longest memories right now are of being at the Boardwalk. I can vividly recall getting in a fight with my ex-wife and taking a nap on one of the hammocks over by the Swan. I remember standing on the bridge near the Yacht Club with my brother when we screamed in the face of a hurricane. I remember taking my friend Jamie to see the christmas lights at Hollywood Studios. I've slid down the face of the clown more times than I would care to count. I met a diehard Republican college woman in the hot tub one time and we're still Facebook friends. I went on a date in downtown Orlando with a woman who was trying to break into the singing business. And Disney World and the Boardwalk are where I finished my bike ride in 2014.
Point is, memories. They're important and, as silly as it sounds, for me this is where they live.
