It's bustling on nights when there are events at the adjoining Staples Center and the Nokia Theatre. It also hosts the cinema where Eclipse recently held its premiere.

But on other nights, like the ones when I was there, the party shuts down. At L.A. Live, the energy level is all-or-nothing.

Disney's theme park shows are often over-hyped and underwhelming (remember Cinderellabration?), but at Disney's California Adventure in Anaheim, the amusement titan recently premiered a new show that really does step up the stakes.

World of Color could be described as "The Bellagio Fountain on Peyote": The lagoon in front of the Mickey's Fun Wheel was rebuilt to accommodate nearly 1,200 moveable and synchronized jets, which volley water between 30 and 200 feet high while ever-changing LED lights saturate them with vibrant hues. Meanwhile, as a crisp new sound system rocks the park, classic Disney clips (what else?) are projected onto 19,000 square feet of "water screens." And of course, some climatic streams of fire. If the 20-ish minute show can't hold your attention, you may have other problems.

Although it's hard to describe, the nightly event is undoubtedly spectacular, absorbing, and as colorful as advertised, although contrary to the P.R., it isn't as gawp-inducing as the fearsome fire-winged dragons of BraviSEAMo, which ends a long run this fall at Tokyo DisneySea in Japan.

But World of Color's premise, novel for a theme park, may provide the biggest entertainment payoff of any of Disney's current Stateside night spectaculars, and from an industry standpoint, it gives California Adventure a much-needed after-sunset show to complement the fireworks and Fantasmic!, often held simultaneously at Disneyland across the plaza. That solves an infrastructure problem for the previously under-developed California Adventure, but for now, while the show is new and at its most popular, it also creates new ones for guests.

Gallery: 'World of Color' steps up Disney's nighttime spectacular game

At this morning's press conference for the opening of The Wizarding World of Harry Potter in Orlando, actor Matthew Lewis, who plays the ever-important Neville Longbottom in the movie series, was asked what he thought about Boris Johnson's recent dig at Orlando. The London mayor complained that the theme park for Harry Potter, as a British property, ought to be in Britain.

Lewis doesn't think much of Johnson's media diatribe. And he's an Englishman, by the way.

Some cites get the rooftop pool concept right. Chicago is not the first place that would come to mind, but if we're being honest, when summer descends on Chicago, it's like God is smiling. Its winter weather gives the city a bad rap for the rest of the year, but outside of snow season, visitors to Chi-town could use the mercy of a cool dip.

Kimpton's Hotel Palomar, which opened in March in River North, acknowledges the Illinois summer heat by opening a dedicated rooftop pool. Although the pool, located on a setback of the 17th floor of the 36-floor building, is enclosed for year-round use, it's attached to an outdoor terrace, with views of the Wrigley Building and Marina City.

A few other Chicago hotels have rooftop pools -- the ritzier Peninsula, nearby, comes to mind, which is telling since the Palomar's designer, Orlando Diaz-Azcuy, also did the spa and pool of the Peninsula's flagship property in Hong Kong. But for the past few years, it's become the amenity du jour for newcomers such as the Affinia, the Avenue, and now, the Palomar.

On a recent Friday, I came back to the 261-room Palomar after a night of dinner and cocktails. The pool was undeservedly deserted. In Phoenix or Los Angeles, the pool deck is mobbed when the temperature goes above 80 degrees, and not always with inviting results. Not in Chicago. In Chicago, the pools are still mostly undiscovered, which makes this a sanctuary you can have to yourself.

While the moody Kokopeli-styled soundtrack might be cheesy by day, by night, as the clouds drifted across Lake Michigan, it made the lap pool feel more like a private spa -- with the bonus backdrop of some of America's most impressive skyscrapers.

Maybe visitors to Chicago still don't think of it as a rooftop town unless there's baseball involved. Let them bake on their boozy decks overlooking Wrigley. There are signs that a new kind of al fresco civilization is making inroads in Chicago's summertime.

There's been a resolution of sorts for the recent kerfluffle at the W Hollywood hotel, which I wrote about two weeks ago. I found out first-hand that guests are not always permitted to use its gorgeous and enviably situated rooftop pool, despite the high room rates they pay.

The scandal made news around the Web, including at The Economist, which proclaimed itself "horrified" about the revelations here on Gadling. (It was indeed a proud day for me: I also got The Economist to repeat my coinage, "douche-tastic.")

The newly opened hotel hasn't broken things off with the Las Vegas promoter, Drai's, which runs its nightspot and organizes the Sunday "pool party" that guests have been told they're not cool enough for. But as a mea culpa for the unwanted attention, the W Hollywood is bending the rules.

In what must be a first for a big hotel, the W Hollywood is telling guests they are not permitted to use the rooftop pool.

It seems ludicrous, but it's true. That's because Starwood, which owns the combination hotel/residence property at Hollywood and Vine, contracted a slew of hotel services out to third parties. Drai's, a Las Vegas nightspot promotion outfit, opened on March 17, and was charged with nightlife at the W, too, presumably because the hotel wanted to purchase some off-the-shelf cachet with hipsters rather than earning it through the merits of the product.

I found this out, of course, the worst way a guest can: By staying there, and being denied access to a swim. On a recent 85-degree Sunday, I tried taking the elevator to the rooftop pool (called WET) for some of those famous California rays. After all, my room on the 11th floor was literally thumping with the beats coming through the ceiling, and I wanted to enjoy a little of this party that I had to put up with despite paying $230 a night.

But the 12th-floor button wouldn't light up. Down in the lobby, I was directed to a line of early 20s hipsters who were waiting to be admitted to the pool deck themselves. I was informed by a doorman that although "the general public" (that would be me: a paying hotel guest) was not permitted upstairs today, I was welcome to join everyone in the line if I wished, or he would "introduce" me to someone inside who "might be able" to get me on the guest list. As I walked away, he called after me, eyeing my clothes. "Don't forget, sir. Appropriate pool attire."

Okay. You know it's big. So let's set aside that superlative, even though it's absolutely true. The Oasis of the Seas is ginormous: the longest, the tallest, the widest.

More of interest is how it measures up as an experience. I'm writing this from the press lounge on Deck 4, which Royal Caribbean has set up for the journalists that it invited to test out its glorious new $1.4 billion mortgage-cum-cruise ship. When you're talking about 17 decks and 2,700 staterooms, you need a lot of time to nose around and even more time to process.

So far, though, this ship is astounding, partly because Royal Caribbean threw some of the old strictures overboard. It's no longer concerned about width restrictions -- the Oasis is too fat to ever go through the Panama Canal -- and once rules like those are jettisoned, new designs can sweep in.

Royal Caribbean's $1.4 billion new ship, the Oasis of the Seas, is notable not just because of its measurements. They're extraordinarily impressive measurements, to be sure: 20 stories high, 1,180 feet long, 2,700 staterooms, 225,282 tons. But for its guests, the even bigger story is what those measurements do to the traveling experience.

Arthur Frommer is one of the last great travel muckrackers in an industry crowded with fawning types, and his latest consumer reporting nugget comes from plain sight: the summer 2010 itineraries of the Oasis. The ship, which will depart from Fort Lauderdale's Port Everglades, will be crowding its trips with at-sea days.

On many week-long trips, he finds, the Oasis will spend as many as three whole days, or half its time away from port, out at sea with no contact with any port or culture. On many itineraries, one of the only days spent on land will be passed on the cruise line's private beach of Labadee, on the coast of Haiti. That makes four out of six days, or two-thirds of the trip, that all 6,300 passengers on a full ship will be Royal Caribbean's captive audience, only spending their dollars with the company.

On many runs, a fifth day will be spent at Costa Maya, a remote beach location that was largely built and maintained exclusively for cruise ship passengers. The only day on those week-long trips spent at an actual, authentic port of call will be the one passed at Cozumel, which Frommer proclaims "the world's dullest port visit."

Gallery: Oasis of the Seas

Newly constructed hotels almost never invite the media to check them out a month before the ribbon-cutting. But this is no ordinary year, and this is no ordinary hotel opening. The Waldorf Astoria, a grande dame of American hotels, has chosen this economic climate, of all times, to open its first outpost beyond the borders of Manhattan, and it's doing it at Walt Disney World, of all places.

"The hotel has taken $70 million in group bookings since June of 2007," said Tom Parke, its Director of Marketing, who said the so-called AIG Effect may end up benefiting the hotel in its opening months. "This whole year, corporations haven't really met. But they've got to meet in the fourth quarter. When are we open? Fourth quarter."

On October 1, 78 years to the day after the opening of its Park Avenue flagship and 38 years to the day after the opening of Disney World's Magic Kingdom, the 497-room Waldorf opens in Orlando. Times are rough for the Florida tourism industry, and the hunger for business may account for how smoothly construction has apparently gone: We're three weeks away, and nearly everything is in place. The AC has been cranking all summer, and the pool has had water in it for three months.

In an effort to make sure everything came in on time and with no funny business, the hotel hired two security firms -- so they could keep an eye on each other. No wonder the management had no shame in inviting Gadling to see their handiwork, through the clutter of ladders and plastic sheeting.

Gallery: Waldorf Astoria Orlando

In the current movie hit (500) Days of Summer, Joseph Gordon-Levitt's character Tom brings his quasi-girlfriend Summer (Zooey Deschanel) to a park overlooking downtown Los Angeles, and together they admire the grand old buildings standing above the desultory new parking lots. "There's a lot of beautiful stuff here," says Tom. "I just wish people would notice it more."

I almost leapt out of my seat and cheered. Downtown Los Angeles is one of the most incredible, yet most ignored, urban landscapes in America. Built in time of fantastic wealth and artistic productivity, it was more or less abandoned in the late 1940s, and now, an entire city that could compete with Chicago's Loop, Pittsburgh, or countless other lavish leftovers from the Gilded Age, has been mostly left, largely intact but rotting, to Mexican immigrants. For lots of white Americans, it might as well be off the maps.

I'm always hungry to learn more about the original Los Angeles, but few of the people I meet seem to know anything about it. While there are lots of books about fake palazzos and long-lost Hollywood stars, even the manager at The Traveler's Bookcase, the city's most important travel bookshop, was at a loss to provide me with any book of substance about the history of the area.

Thank goodness for the efforts of the Los Angeles Conservancy, a preservation group that fights to preserve what it can of the downtown district. Because there's so much worth saving, the group runs popular walking tours of the best bits, usually on weekends when suburbanites can enjoy them.