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No Tropicana Lounge
Vacations are vital to my family simply because the memories associate with it.
But in my kindergarten teacher’s and my grandmother’s case, there’s a time and
place to talk about what have I done on those trips. In fact, an activity on a
particular subject in school is not the germane time to talk about a chance
meeting with Roger Rabbit at Walt Disney World days after spring break. It was
not until grades kindergarten and two when I learned this lesson.
I returned back from a seven-day cruise on the MS Tropicale (a former Carnival
Cruise liner) in the fall of 1995. When I struck up a discussion on the cruise
with Mrs. Vicki in my New Jersey elementary school, she declined to hear this.
No, I was not conjuring up sightseeing Tulum ruins on the Mexican island of
Cozumel, basking in the sun on one of the Cayman Islands, or even touring New
Orleans, Louisiana. Instead, I was talking about my favorite part of the liner
-- Tropicana Lounge. Mrs. Vicki’s way of refusal to enter in the tęte-ŕ-tęte was
just as simple as those three words: “No Tropicana Lounge.” The same holds true
when I attempted to discuss about the Cinderella story or even 911 (as a result
of a fake call to the police at home). Therefore, I did not speak about
Tropicana Lounge until later conversations about childhood memories.
On the spring break of 1997, I went to Walt Disney World for the second time
during its 25th anniversary celebrations since I last vacationed there in the
Christmas of 1996. As I was playing in the front yard just before my school bus
came days after my Central Florida sojourn, my kindergarten memories resurfaced
when my grandmother said, “Forget about Ellen.” Before you guys ask me, “Ellen
Who?” I was trying to chat about the revamped Universe of Energy attraction in
Epcot, which featured (and now does) Ellen DeGeneres (the person my grandmother
wants me to keep mum about) and Bill Nye. I was incredulous that my grandmother
did a Mrs. Vicki with the same old No Tropicana Lounge principle as if she is
paraphrasing what she would have admonished me if she were my second grade
teacher in lieu of Mrs. Doreen: “No Epcot.” or even worse, “No Ellen.”
Why did my grandmother and my kindergarten teacher respond with “Forget about
‘X’” or “No ‘Y.’” whenever I itched to speak to them about vacation memories?
Was I completely off topic during an activity or a particular situation at home
or at school? If I have a fecund imagination, was I imagining being back in
those recent halcyon days as well? When my memories that are redolent of those
dilemmas recoiled back in my senior year as of now, I agree with the above
reasons. My daydreaming and deviating from the core of the ongoings started the
“No Tropicana Lounge” affair.
Mrs. Vicki was doing some activities with her kindergarten class when I started
the “No Tropicana Lounge.” affair. I inferred that she understood that my
favorite place in any Carnival Cruise ship was the main show lounge (e.g.,
Universe Lounge on the MS Fantasy and, most recently, Paris Lounge on the MS
Inspiration, where I celebrated my 18th birthday). She believes that the topic
is too picayune for the ongoing activity in class. My imagination at that time
became too rampant.
My bestial side of my imagination stampeded again when I told my grandmother
about Ellen’s Energy Adventure in Epcot. She, like Mrs. Vicki, declined to hear
about this. It seemed as if she thought that a conversation about the dark ride
is nonessential. At that time, I leaned that whenever I come home from a trip, I
plunge back into the dour face of reality. Therefore, it appeared that my
grandmother and Mrs. Vicki agreed that I’m reliving those remembered but
illusory memories at the wrong time and place. Thanks to the lessons learned I
didn’t talk to Mrs. Linda about Disney Cruise line and my (now deceased)
father’s ride on Alpengeist in Busch Gardens Europe (in Williamsburg, Virginia)
at the wrong time and place in third grade.
I did not solely learn the lesson about discussing family trips when the time
and place are right during kindergarten and second grade. I also learned how to
distinguish real life from the memories of recent events. I was struggling with
the discrepancy between the two when in elementary school, but nowadays I
understand that I have to allot my discussions about recent vacations for later.
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