Good to be back in California

STEVE SMITH

There is a great line about a town, the name of which I can’t

remember, spoken by a comedian whose name also escapes me. I’m a

little too young for this level of memory loss, so I’ll fake it and

state that it was W.C. Fields talking about Philadelphia. He said, “I

spent a week there one day.”

In my case, Fields could have been talking about Orlando, Fla.,

where I’ve just returned from a six-day visit.

Orlando is in central Florida, a place not known for its raw

beauty or its inviting weather. There is water everywhere in Orlando,

which contributed to my impression that the area is little more than

a large swamp. Each day, it was a struggle to get from the hotel to a

car to wherever I was going without creating the need to take another

shower.

I was there on business, working my two careers, and so I went

without my wife and two children. It’s possible that I would have a

different view of Orlando had they been with me, but I doubt it.

The first thing you learn when you get to Orlando is that unless

you are in a swimming pool, it is important to stay in an

air-conditioned building or suffer the consequences of the oppressive

humidity. I asked several people which month was the best month

visit, and each of them had to stop and think for long periods.

“Sometimes April is good,” was one response.

My six days afforded me the opportunity to visit two parts of

Disney World: the Magic Kingdom and Epcot. That’s the second thing

you learn: Disney World is not the equivalent of Disneyland. Disney

World is a collection of theme parks built on a swamp. The one that

is the cousin to Disneyland is called the “Magic Kingdom.”

But it’s not magical, not like Houdini or David Copperfield. It’s

more like a 10-year-old trying to perform the sleight-of-hand from

the box of magic tricks he received at Christmas. The Disneyland in

Anaheim has more charm. And if you visit Orlando, don’t waste your

time at Epcot. The Disney people certainly haven’t, because it looks

like they haven’t spent a dime on it since it opened so many years

ago.

During my stay I had a driver, whom I will call Bob, who took me

here and there. During our drives, we talked about our families and

the challenges we face. Bob moved his wife and children to Florida

from Brazil about five years ago. His daughter was 13 years old at

the time. When she arrived, she didn’t speak a word of English. Bob

told me that she mastered the language in six months.

“Kids learn languages quickly,” he said. Please tell that to the

opponents of the language immersion programs in our schools.

Bob’s son, now 25, went to technical school and got a degree. A

bureaucratic snafu is preventing him from working in his field, but

that will be resolved soon, Bob is certain. In the meantime, his

immigrant son is working any job he can find to help support his wife

and child.

Bob’s son is typical of many immigrants I’ve interviewed over the

past seven years. They were told that America is the land of

opportunity and that anyone who works hard can get ahead, maybe even

become governor of California. So they set out to prove to their

relatives back home that they had made the right decision. They also

can’t understand why so many Americans born here take these

opportunities for granted.

Bob works 14 hours a day as a driver. He has a nice new Lincoln

Town Car that he babies because it is his livelihood. I noticed that

as Bob drove 45 mph down a freeway with a speed limit of 65. If you

want to drive a Californian crazy, that’s a sure way to do it.

“I have a pool,” Bob said, “but the only time I get to see it is

when I have to clean it.” Bob’s lament works here in California or in

most states.

We’re working too hard and enjoying it less, doing it all just to

maintain the lifestyle to which we are accustomed.

In Brazil, Bob was an accountant. But I got the impression that

with the Brazilian economy in the tank for so long, his clients did

not have a lot to account for. So he came here, legally. He decided

to become a driver because he likes being out and about, he likes

talking to people and he has flexible hours. His hour before picking

me up for the return trip to the airport was spent at home making a

Brazilian dish with beef liver.

My trip to Orlando confirmed what many of us already know: We in

Southern California are living in paradise. Every so often, it’s good

to get away to remind us.

In a month, I’m traveling to St. Louis, without the family, just

for 24 hours. It will be torture, again, and the only benefit will be

the chance to say that I spent a week there one day.

* STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and a freelance writer.

Readers may leave a message for him on the Daily Pilot hotline at

(949) 642-6086.