A couple of dear friends are at Disney World this week and one posted something like this on Facebook, “I expect to see you and Rich sitting at the Trout Pass Bar.” Now that made me smile and even brought a few tears of mostly joy” (moments like this are what make FB a keeper, in spite of its issues).
I remember our first time at the Trout Pass Bar. We were living in Tampa then and were staying at Wilderness Lodge for the weekend. We sat up at the bar and the woman next to us said she was from Tampa, too. She worked at a Cancer Center and WDW provided a great getaway from her serious job. She even handed the bartender the recipe for the “Pink Monorail” drink they used to serve at the top of the Contemporary back in the day.
So, of course, the “Pink Monorail” made it into my third novel, Real Women Wear Red, which attracted a literary agent back when we were living in Tampa Bay. Ah… talk about emotion flooding my body – just remembering those heady days of Tampa Bay. That’s where we were living when we first met these Disney friends.
We’d only been living in Florida a few months and hadn’t even bought our house yet so we were living in an apartment in Palm Harbor. While Rich was at work, I got a surprise phone call form the Boardwalk concierge asking for any special requests. The thing is, we’d booked a water view without concierge but, we’d been upgraded to concierge because they needed the water view room. What a fun surprise!
That night was the first night we met these friends at Flying Fish – that was also our first time eating at the Flying Fish. What a memorable evening and we’ve been friends ever since – getting together at WDW whenever we’re both there. And they’ve introduced us to their other Disney friends. This is what I miss so much.
I also miss Tampa Bay – building that new house, trips to WDW, the beach, and my early days of writing fiction. In that apartment I wrote my second novel and by the time we moved into our brand new house, I wrote Real Women Wear Red, sitting out on the Lanai, listening to Jimmy Buffet and getting in the mood for a Caribbean cruise, where the book is set. I can still remember the kitchen phone when a literary agent called after I signed with her. I was also offered a publishing contract but was thankful for self-publishing when that publisher folded.
I also remember dropping Rich off at work and having coffee and catching up with some writing at Panera. I miss those days so maybe it’s time to get back to writing or at least work it in with my songwriting. I don’t know – the market has changed so much since those days and it just feels pointless. But if it brings me pleasure, then, I should continue writing, no matter what. Especially if it connects me to those Tampa Bay days…