Orlando with my bro

The PGA merchandising show comes to Orlando every January. My brother, a PGA professional, attends most of them. Last year, he and his family came to Florida, and when I suggested that my family come too, he declined. It hurt. My kids were hurt. My husband was pissed. And I was resigned. Been there, done that. 

This year, he had a change of heart and invited me to stay and attend the show. While his kids weren't coming, his wife was, and she and I made plans for her to help up my step count for my 2024 resolutions.

They came for a week. I went for a few days, arriving in time to head out with them for dinner. 

We were up bright and early the next day for the merchandising show. I'm unsure what I expected, but it wasn't what I got. While I knew the Orlando Convention Center was big (I'd been to the NRA convention when I bought tickets to see Toby Keith perform), I didn't realize it was ACRES of land. This thing went for MILES with rows upon rows, each labeled to work with the PGA app. He scheduled appointments with vendors while we ate breakfast and had coffee in a little food court area. Then we were off, and Susan made good on the increase in the step count. I was lucky I was still mobile the next day.

We went down almost every row. Each row had several vendors, all related to golf in some way. If I didn't know anything about the sport, I certainly did after today. My brother chatted with salesmen and women, exchanged business cards, got his badge scanned multiple times, and asked a million questions. Watching him do his thing was cool, and I might have been a bit proud. We should've run a country club together. I bet we would've been a success.

I chatted up some salespeople, but my main focus was scoring free loot. I got tons of pens, but I also snagged some men's socks (my husband loves them), hair ties, and odd things like beads I'll never wear. Still, a convention isn't a convention without coming home with free crap. Plus, I love pens! It became a game of how many pens I could get and how stealthy I could be in claiming them. My brother was impressed.

Lunch was at another food court, sitting at tables with strangers. Susan and I wandered when my brother had his meetings. The last one was in an interactive area, but we chose not to participate because our legs were shaking from so much walking.

Unfortunately, this was at the end of the convention center, which meant we had to walk back to the entrance. Then, we had to walk miles away to the car. I had over 15,000 steps. That is double what I try to get daily, and something I have NEVER done since owning an Apple watch. I had to use the massage gun on my feet that night in our Wyndham.

Thursday morning, those two were up early for breakfast at the outside cafe at our resort. They tagged my phone, but I opted to chill in the unit and have coffee. I was on a deadline for an anthology my writing group, The Write Spice, is putting out next month. I had a vague notion of my story but did not have the damn thing written. 

My time was short-lived. These two returned to the room, and we were off. We hit the pool. We took a hike around the resort. Later, we went for an early dinner, and before we retired for the night, I asked what the plan was for the next day.

Rusty: "Nothing. We're chilling here."

I asked again to make sure, and getting the same response, I wrote long into the night.

Ah, you know how I like to foreshadow...