Tuesday Feb. 21
Well, today is Mardi Gras (Fat Tuesday) and I can think of no better way to spend it than at Fort Myers Beach. I've invited Carol to spend part of the day with me. I slather myself with some sunscreen, and set out on my bike (with new cushion gel seat!) at about 11:30 and arrive at the beach at about 12:30. I settle in at a bar called "Top O' Mast." They are famous for their "Rum Runner" which is about eight bucks or so, but it's served in a souvenir glass, which you get to keep. They are strictly a bar, but offer food through a restaurant called "La Ola" (translation: "The Wave") which is across the street from them. It makes things a little confusing, because your drink waitress is different than your food waitress. And the food waitress has the added task of running back and forth to fetch food. But I guess it all works out.
I rent two beach lounge chairs and a shade umbrella from yet a third company, which has an arrangement with "Top O' Mast." I get the "package" for $15, which I figure is a pretty good deal when you consider I don't have to lug any of this stuff in and out with me. I then make lunch reservations at a place called the "Pierside Grill" (about 75 feet up the beach from Top O' Mast) which seems to be very popular.
I settle into my beach lounge chair, set up the umbrella for maximum shade, and order up a cold Bud long neck, which costs $3.25 (reasonable) and I tip my charming waitress "Antoinette" (I swear I"m not making this up) 75 cents on every Bud, of which I have a total of four during my afternoon stay. The place has a live DJ, and he is playing a nice blend of beach tunes from my era, including Van Morrison, the Beach Boys, Joe Cocker, Jimmy Buffet, etc., along with an occasional Zydeco standard in honor of Mardi Gras.
Carol calls me on the cell, and says she is stuck in traffic along San Carlos Blvd. and jokes that it could be tomorrow until she gets here! She finally arrives at about 2 p.m., and informs me that she parked her car on the mainland, and walked across the San Carlos bridge to the beach. (I can well believe this, as I biked to the beach and was passing hundreds of cars who were inching their way along San Carlos Blvd. toward the beach while I breezed by on the sidewalk on my little ol' coaster bike!).
I inform Antoinette that we will be having lunch a couple of doors down at the Pierside, and she says she will keep an eye on our "stuff" for us if we just leave it on the beach lounges. So this is another nice feature of the "rental option." Lunch on the deck at the Pierside consists of a crabcake sandwich for me, and a seafood salad stuffed into a tomato for Carol. She has water, I have another Bud. The tab comes to $26, and I leave a $5 tip.
Back to the lounge chairs at Top O' Mast, and we sit for a spell and chat, and catch up. I continue with my Bud long necks, and Carol, for whatever reason, is going sans alcohol today and just has water. Not one to sit still for very long, Carol decides to go "shelling" with a kitchen colander she has brought, and I tell her to knock herself out and have a good time while I read "Sanibel Flats." It is a perfect beach day --- low 80s and brilliant sun, with an occasional puff of cloud, and a gentle breeze that kisses the air every once in a while with the scent of the ocean.
As I mentioned in an earlier blog entry, alcohol is not allowed on the beach, but most of the bars along the beach have designated patio areas, and this particular bar has a "sand pit" that is easily recognized, and signs are posted along the pit perimeter announcing "no open alcohol containers beyond this point." So if you want to drink and sunbathe, you must stay in the pit. If you're willing to forgo the alcohol, you can get a lounge chair and umbrella closer to the ocean. And I suppose if you want the occasional drink, you can just go back and visit "the pit" for a while. They also have bathrooms inside the bar, which is nice. So all in all, this is a sweet deal. Plus, I check the menu from "La Ona" and see they have a nice lunch/dinner menu of sandwiches, along with "famous" (so they claim) thin-crust pizza. So I assure Antoinette we will return and have lunch here next time along with the Buds.
Carol returns from the surf line with a colander full of shells, and proceeds to explain the various types, including the shell of something called a "sand flea" (aka "mole crab") which she is particularly keen on, for some reason. The shell of the young one she has found looks like small piece of gravel. They are small crustaceans that bury themelves in the sand (hence the name) along the surf line, and then they sift through the sand and incoming surf for whatever nutrients come along. I don't know what Carol's fascination is with these creatures, because when the babies grow into adults, they are about one inch long, and when people disturb them or dig them up while digging for other shells, the little fuckers bite and cause burning, itching welts. Many is the tourist (and their kids) down here who have made the mistake of walking barefoot into a patch of seaweed that has washed up onto the surf line, only to find they have stumbled into a herd of sand fleas gorging themselves on the seaweed, quickly turning their wrath onto the offending intruder.
By now, the DJ has shifted gears and is playing "bump and grind" music because there is a group of young people that has decided to roost here for the remainder of the afternoon. The group consists of about four guys and four gals, all in their 20s. The gals are all wearing string bikinis. Sufficiently lubricated with alcohol, the girls decide to dance on top of the tables on the patio level above us, while their boyfriends cheer them on and take copious amounts of photos with their cell phones. Everyone just kind of rolls with it. I figure between the DJ (who is digging it) and the boyfriends, there is a lot of stiff meat at Top O' Mast this afternoon.
I ignore it for the most part, out of courtesy to Carol, but I do steal a glance every once in a while. Even Carol comments that if she had a "bod" like one of those gals, she'd be on top of one of those tables, too. So what more could I ask for? I've got a gorgeous day, ocean breezes, cold Buds, cool tunes, a beach companion, and dancing bikini babes. Happy Mardi Gras.
It's getting on 5 p.m., and we have to end this lovely day, because it takes about an hour to get back to the condo via bicycle, and I need to get back before dark because I don't have a light on the bike, and I don't like biking at night anyway. Carol is out digging for shells one last time, and manages to capture a live adolescent sand flea in a plastic drinking cup, and wants to take it home with her, for God knows what reason. So we end up not leaving the beach until 5:30. This is going to make it close as far as getting back to the condo before dark. I walk my bike across the San Carlos bridge with Carol, but then part company, and I start hauling ass back to the condo. I don't make it back until 6:30, and I'm actually nervous the last mile or so, worrying that cars won't be able to see me. I'm OK in that I'm up on the sidewalk and not actually bicycling in the roadway. But there are numerous driveways and entrances into strip malls, and I fear someone will make a turn and plow into me. But I do OK. I arrive at the condo a hot mass of sweat and sunscreen, and take a much needed shower. I'm a little red on the neck, but for the most part the $3 bottle of sunscreen I purchased at the flea market has done its job. I put a little aloe gel on my face and neck, and it does the trick.
I watch the new episode of "Biggest Loser" that night, and watch one of the contestants, Daphne, self-destruct and get sent home.It seems like this season has been more about drama, and less about losing weight. This show used to inspire me, but I'm finding it less and less so. I think Season 13 is going to turn out to be this show's unlucky season, and they may not return next year. Viewership is down. Hell, even Jillian Michaels had sense enough to bail, and Bob Harper surely must be tired of this gig.
With all the fresh air and exercise today, I sleep like a baby.
Expenses: beach chairs, $15; lunch $31; Bud long necks and tip, $12. Total: $51
Bruce
Monday, February 27, 2012
Sunday, February 26, 2012
A Trip to Naples
Monday Feb. 20
Today, I am off to Naples for a little investigating, and to meet "Cami," a woman who approached me on Match.com and would like to meet. (If you click on the link, her reference is toward the bottom of the page). I finally get on the road at 10:30, arriving in Naples at about11:30. It's only 32 miles, but it takes me an hour due to heavy traffic on Highway 41, the highway that everyone down here loves to hate. It's been described as a "six-lane Cuisinart" of a highway, where "bad drivers from all over the nation gather to tailgate and rush, only to wait impatiently at the next stop light. ... an unbroken strip of of tacky, plasticized commerce stretching 200 miles from Tampa to Naples, jammed with traffice that only slows when sirens scream and ambulances come to strap the broken and bleeding onto stretchers and cart them away."
I'll definitely take I-75 back, but going there, I want to take the "scenic route" and see if it's as bad as Randy White describes (above).
It is.
With today being "President's Day", I realize on my way to Naples that I probably didn't pick the best day to go here, as all the attractions will most likely be jammed more than normal, especially with "locals" who have their little fokkers in tow, due to the day off from school (and I think most schools in the East take the whole week off). But I'll make the best of it.
I head to a tony stretch of old historic downtown called "Fifth Avenue South." I have lunch at a place called "The Jolly Cricket," and it's like a fancy British pub. I have a cup of French onion soup (with melted cheese on top), a lunch salad of baby spinach and strawberries (and had them put six shrimp on the side for an extra $6), and an ice tea. With tip, it came to a little over $30, which is a telling example of how everything is higher priced here. (I can get a nice lunch most anywhere in Ft. Myers -- including the beach and Sanibel Island -- for 20 bucks or under.) After that, I stroll along Fifth Ave. and look at the expensive galleries and accessories stores (including Pucci & Catana Luxury Pet Boutique). Then I stop for coffee and cheesecake at "Fifth Avenue Coffee" and read my book there (I'm about 100 pages into Sanibel Flats at this point).
One pleasant surprise: The public parking ramp for the Fifth Avenue South area was FREE. I was certain I was going to be nicked $5 (or maybe even $10) for parking. So that was nice.
I was thinking of visiting the zoo but I already knew it was packed because I passed it along the way to downtown, and the entrance was jammed. And besides, it was getting on 3 p.m. by the time I finished my coffee, and Cami and I had agreed to meet at 4:30 and I knew I simply didn't have the time. So maybe another day on that, because it is supposed to be quite a renowned zoo.
I meet Cami at a place called "Seasons 52" at the north end of Naples (toward going back to Ft. Myers, which is good) on Highway 41, aka "Tamiani Trail." It's a nice place, high class, and quiet with no television sets in the bar. The menu undergoes major changes four times a year, hence the word "Seasons" in their name. They are supposed to have pretty good food, but we just order drinks. We keep a menu handy in case we want appetizers, but it never comes to that. I have a glass of white wine, and Cami has a grapefruit martini. We have a pleasant enough conversation, but there is very little chemistry, and I'm pretty certain we will not be meeting again. However, I do confirm several of the things I have heard about the "culture" down here since arriving:
On the plus side, Cami has a nice smile, and urges me to "keep looking" because even though this online dating thing is difficult, the alternative is not acceptable. On the downside, she's very made up (lots of cosmetics, and a TON of silver jewelry), and quite domineering. She did say something that kind of rubbed me the wrong way. She said she wouldn't get involved with anyone who RENTED versus owned their property, because she said renting was a sign of financial instability, possible bankruptcy, stuff like that. And that's just not true. Many people just don't want the responsibility of ownership, especially in these times when is a home is no longer an investment like it used to be. I think it's narrow-minded on her part, but I do take note that this might be a topic (renting) to approach more gingerly in the future with Match.com prospects.
All in all, I would have to say I was not overly impressed with Naples. Yes, parts are very beautiful, but there were certainly sections of the city that I passed (along Highway 41/Tamiani Trail) that were rough around the edges, lots of strip malls, vacant storefronts, etc. And everything is more expensive here, and I do realize that some of this is due to land costs and rent being higher. But a lot is due to "perceived value" (i.e., that people will simply be willing pay more for a given product/service simply because this is Naples).
So I leave Naples feeling comfortable in my decision to pick Ft. Myers to spend the winter, and have no regrets. Even if I COULD afford Naples, I seem to detect a certain "snobiness" or maybe pretension here that just isn't my style. I swim in the same ocean they do. The same sun that shines in Naples shines in Fort Myers. The cool tropical breezes that blow at night all come from the same place. The seafood I eat comes from the same ocean, the beer from the same breweries. And I put the same gas in my car as they do. And all for 20 to 50 percent less than what they pay. OK, I don't have a Pucci & Catana Luxury Pet Boutique, but I don't think Phoebe and Abby will hold that against me.
Also, I hear via email from my friend, Amy, in Janesville, that she earned her "Doctor" title today. Officially, it's an Educational Doctorate (Ed.D.) and the "major" is in Educational Leadership. It works the same as a Ph.D. in terms of use of the title. I email Dawn and ask her to buy a gift certificate to the Prime Quarter Steak House and mail it to Amy as a congratulations gift. This is great news. Amy has been working on this for a while, and it is an inspiration to me that she has achieved this amazing thing, and done it while working a full time job and raising a 10-year old daughter. Gives me reason to believe that most anything can be achieved if you set your mind to it.
Tonight is "Pawn Stars" night on History Channel, and I catch the new episode, and it is very fun. Rick, Corey (he's losing weight, and don't think he likes to be called "Big Hoss" any more), the "Old Man," and Chumley never fail to entertain! I'm not a gun person, but I have to admit that the 9-shot LeMat combination revolver/shotgun (used by the Confederate Army for a short time) was one of the coolest things I've seen on the show in a while, and the $90,000 that Rick paid for it is one of the most expensive things I've seen him buy on the show.
Expenses today: lunch and coffee, $36; wine/tip at "Seasons 52," $10. Total: $46.
Bruce
Today, I am off to Naples for a little investigating, and to meet "Cami," a woman who approached me on Match.com and would like to meet. (If you click on the link, her reference is toward the bottom of the page). I finally get on the road at 10:30, arriving in Naples at about11:30. It's only 32 miles, but it takes me an hour due to heavy traffic on Highway 41, the highway that everyone down here loves to hate. It's been described as a "six-lane Cuisinart" of a highway, where "bad drivers from all over the nation gather to tailgate and rush, only to wait impatiently at the next stop light. ... an unbroken strip of of tacky, plasticized commerce stretching 200 miles from Tampa to Naples, jammed with traffice that only slows when sirens scream and ambulances come to strap the broken and bleeding onto stretchers and cart them away."
I'll definitely take I-75 back, but going there, I want to take the "scenic route" and see if it's as bad as Randy White describes (above).
It is.
With today being "President's Day", I realize on my way to Naples that I probably didn't pick the best day to go here, as all the attractions will most likely be jammed more than normal, especially with "locals" who have their little fokkers in tow, due to the day off from school (and I think most schools in the East take the whole week off). But I'll make the best of it.
I head to a tony stretch of old historic downtown called "Fifth Avenue South." I have lunch at a place called "The Jolly Cricket," and it's like a fancy British pub. I have a cup of French onion soup (with melted cheese on top), a lunch salad of baby spinach and strawberries (and had them put six shrimp on the side for an extra $6), and an ice tea. With tip, it came to a little over $30, which is a telling example of how everything is higher priced here. (I can get a nice lunch most anywhere in Ft. Myers -- including the beach and Sanibel Island -- for 20 bucks or under.) After that, I stroll along Fifth Ave. and look at the expensive galleries and accessories stores (including Pucci & Catana Luxury Pet Boutique). Then I stop for coffee and cheesecake at "Fifth Avenue Coffee" and read my book there (I'm about 100 pages into Sanibel Flats at this point).
One pleasant surprise: The public parking ramp for the Fifth Avenue South area was FREE. I was certain I was going to be nicked $5 (or maybe even $10) for parking. So that was nice.
I was thinking of visiting the zoo but I already knew it was packed because I passed it along the way to downtown, and the entrance was jammed. And besides, it was getting on 3 p.m. by the time I finished my coffee, and Cami and I had agreed to meet at 4:30 and I knew I simply didn't have the time. So maybe another day on that, because it is supposed to be quite a renowned zoo.
I meet Cami at a place called "Seasons 52" at the north end of Naples (toward going back to Ft. Myers, which is good) on Highway 41, aka "Tamiani Trail." It's a nice place, high class, and quiet with no television sets in the bar. The menu undergoes major changes four times a year, hence the word "Seasons" in their name. They are supposed to have pretty good food, but we just order drinks. We keep a menu handy in case we want appetizers, but it never comes to that. I have a glass of white wine, and Cami has a grapefruit martini. We have a pleasant enough conversation, but there is very little chemistry, and I'm pretty certain we will not be meeting again. However, I do confirm several of the things I have heard about the "culture" down here since arriving:
- Naples residents DO consider Fort Myers to be somewhat of a ghetto (nicknames like "Fort Misery" and "Li'l Pakistan"). A woman here who is "shopping" for a mate based on finances is definitely considered to be "trading down" if she's looking in Fort Myers. (Although the rich folks in Naples don't mind getting in their BMWs and Mercedes Benzes to drive to Fort Myers to their shopping at the malls and big box stores where the prices are cheaper than in Naples);
- Many guys in Fort Myers looking for a female consider most Naples women to be "rich bitches";
- I definitely could NOT have found a condo in Naples with features similar to the ones I have in Fort Myers for anything less than $2K/month, and most are higher, certainly as you get closer to the ocean.
On the plus side, Cami has a nice smile, and urges me to "keep looking" because even though this online dating thing is difficult, the alternative is not acceptable. On the downside, she's very made up (lots of cosmetics, and a TON of silver jewelry), and quite domineering. She did say something that kind of rubbed me the wrong way. She said she wouldn't get involved with anyone who RENTED versus owned their property, because she said renting was a sign of financial instability, possible bankruptcy, stuff like that. And that's just not true. Many people just don't want the responsibility of ownership, especially in these times when is a home is no longer an investment like it used to be. I think it's narrow-minded on her part, but I do take note that this might be a topic (renting) to approach more gingerly in the future with Match.com prospects.
All in all, I would have to say I was not overly impressed with Naples. Yes, parts are very beautiful, but there were certainly sections of the city that I passed (along Highway 41/Tamiani Trail) that were rough around the edges, lots of strip malls, vacant storefronts, etc. And everything is more expensive here, and I do realize that some of this is due to land costs and rent being higher. But a lot is due to "perceived value" (i.e., that people will simply be willing pay more for a given product/service simply because this is Naples).
So I leave Naples feeling comfortable in my decision to pick Ft. Myers to spend the winter, and have no regrets. Even if I COULD afford Naples, I seem to detect a certain "snobiness" or maybe pretension here that just isn't my style. I swim in the same ocean they do. The same sun that shines in Naples shines in Fort Myers. The cool tropical breezes that blow at night all come from the same place. The seafood I eat comes from the same ocean, the beer from the same breweries. And I put the same gas in my car as they do. And all for 20 to 50 percent less than what they pay. OK, I don't have a Pucci & Catana Luxury Pet Boutique, but I don't think Phoebe and Abby will hold that against me.
Also, I hear via email from my friend, Amy, in Janesville, that she earned her "Doctor" title today. Officially, it's an Educational Doctorate (Ed.D.) and the "major" is in Educational Leadership. It works the same as a Ph.D. in terms of use of the title. I email Dawn and ask her to buy a gift certificate to the Prime Quarter Steak House and mail it to Amy as a congratulations gift. This is great news. Amy has been working on this for a while, and it is an inspiration to me that she has achieved this amazing thing, and done it while working a full time job and raising a 10-year old daughter. Gives me reason to believe that most anything can be achieved if you set your mind to it.
Tonight is "Pawn Stars" night on History Channel, and I catch the new episode, and it is very fun. Rick, Corey (he's losing weight, and don't think he likes to be called "Big Hoss" any more), the "Old Man," and Chumley never fail to entertain! I'm not a gun person, but I have to admit that the 9-shot LeMat combination revolver/shotgun (used by the Confederate Army for a short time) was one of the coolest things I've seen on the show in a while, and the $90,000 that Rick paid for it is one of the most expensive things I've seen him buy on the show.
Expenses today: lunch and coffee, $36; wine/tip at "Seasons 52," $10. Total: $46.
Bruce
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Bike Ride; Flea Market Watch Find
Saturday Feb. 18 - Sunday Feb. 19
Saturday. It's a beautiful day for a bike ride today, but first I must mail a package to an eBay customer. He bought a copy of Rene Rondeau's Hamilton watch identification guide. I bought this at the Daytona Regional watch/clock show for $20, and sold for $180. Ka-ching. I'm very happy with this, and wish I had a deal like this every week. I knew the book was worth some money.
I grab my trusted Murray coaster bike, and head over to the John Yarbrough Linear Park bike trail, which I referenced earlier in this blog (click on the link for my entry describing this bike trail). I notice the tires feel a little bit soft, so I stop at a "Mobile" gas station, but they want a dollar for air. Fuck that. So the next gas station, a "Hess" service station, has it for free, so I give the tires a little boost. Does anyone but me remember the days when just about any gas station had air, and the air hose was located where it was supposed to be ... right next to the gas pump. And the idea of charging for it was was about as ludicrous as a restaurant charging a buck for salt and pepper? Yet here we are, with most gas stations charging a buck for air at a "kiosk" that located in some far corner of the gas station behind some bushes or a brick wall that you need a frickin' compass to find. And of course the machine won't take a dollar bill; you typically need four quarters, which of course you never have in your pocket when you need it, so then it's back to the station building where you stand in line behind people buying their Slurpees and lottery tickets so you can beg the clerk to change a dollar bill, then hoof it back to the air machine. Just another one of those little things that gets my knickers in a twist about "modern life." It isn't good enough that companies like Mobil and Shell and Exxon are making gazillions of dollars off us every year with gasoline; they have to charge us a buck to put a little air in our tires. I don't know what's next, but I'm sure some Exxon executive somewhere is figuring out a way to charge for a paper towel and washer fluid to clean your car windows.
Anyway, on with the bike ride. And despite this being a weekend, I stop at Sun Harvest Citrus for free orange juice, and buy a slice of key lime pie and coffee, which I enjoy on their patio while reading Sanibel Flats. This has turned out to be one of my favorite stops. Who doesn't like all the freshly squeezed orange juice you can drink, raise you hand?
The whole bike ride is about 20 miles, because it is 4 miles each way along Cypress Lake Dr/Daniels Parkway (switches when it crosses Highway 41) to access the trail. This is my least favorite part of the bike ride, because it's along a busy stretch of highway with lots of intersections, residential driveways, and entrances to strip malls. So you really have to be careful traversing the stretch to and from the trail. Once you're on the trail, you're home free. I spend quite a bit of time at the rest stop at the northern end of the trail, which is where it intersects with Colonial Blvd. At that location is the eastern edge of Page Field containing one of two approach runways. Page Field is the city's secondary airport for light civilian aircraft, charters, and so forth. It was the city's main airport until 1983 when Southwest Regional Airport was built. Page remains an active airfield, with an average landing of 207 aircraft per day, according to Wikipedia. This gives you an idea of the number of rich folks around here who own airplanes. I sit and read Sanibel Flats, while watching numerous planes fly overhead, cruising at about 100 feet on their approach to land. Most are single-engine "prop jobs" ... Pipers, Beechcrafts, and so forth. But there is also the occasional private jet that streaks overhead and thunders upon touchdown, as the pilots deploy the thrust reversers. This brings back childhood memories when the family would drive over to the old Madison airport, just to watch the planes fly in and out. It was great fun then, and it's still fun now, and a source of wonderment. I wonder how rich you must be to own your own jet?
Anyway, the whole bike ride is very fun, but I have decided I need a more cushiony seat for my bony rump, and will look for one at the flea market tomorrow. I get back to the condo, and I'm hungry as balls, and particularly hungry for a Firehouse Sub sandwich, because I haven't had one since Dec. 28, when Dawn and I shared one at a Firehouse Subs in Orlando. So I Google it, and find a sub shop about 2 miles from the condo along College Parkway. I have a little trouble finding it, because it is located in a distressed strip mall, in which only one other store, a Radio Shack, is operating. The rest of the strip mall is fenced off, presumably to prevent vandalism and/or loitering. So it's a sad little Firehouse Subs. It isn't very busy (especially for a Saturday evening) and they have a skeleton crew on board of people who aren't particularly perky. And the soda dispenser, which dispenses 120 varieties of Coca Cola products, is only partially working. But, damn, the sandwich is good. I order a "New York Steamer" which is hot pastrami and melted cheese on a warm Italian roll, with lettuce, tomato, mustard, and mayo. I have this with a "Coke Zero," and have two refills, one spiked with cherry flavoring, and the other with vanilla. Yum.
Saturday. It's a beautiful day for a bike ride today, but first I must mail a package to an eBay customer. He bought a copy of Rene Rondeau's Hamilton watch identification guide. I bought this at the Daytona Regional watch/clock show for $20, and sold for $180. Ka-ching. I'm very happy with this, and wish I had a deal like this every week. I knew the book was worth some money.
I grab my trusted Murray coaster bike, and head over to the John Yarbrough Linear Park bike trail, which I referenced earlier in this blog (click on the link for my entry describing this bike trail). I notice the tires feel a little bit soft, so I stop at a "Mobile" gas station, but they want a dollar for air. Fuck that. So the next gas station, a "Hess" service station, has it for free, so I give the tires a little boost. Does anyone but me remember the days when just about any gas station had air, and the air hose was located where it was supposed to be ... right next to the gas pump. And the idea of charging for it was was about as ludicrous as a restaurant charging a buck for salt and pepper? Yet here we are, with most gas stations charging a buck for air at a "kiosk" that located in some far corner of the gas station behind some bushes or a brick wall that you need a frickin' compass to find. And of course the machine won't take a dollar bill; you typically need four quarters, which of course you never have in your pocket when you need it, so then it's back to the station building where you stand in line behind people buying their Slurpees and lottery tickets so you can beg the clerk to change a dollar bill, then hoof it back to the air machine. Just another one of those little things that gets my knickers in a twist about "modern life." It isn't good enough that companies like Mobil and Shell and Exxon are making gazillions of dollars off us every year with gasoline; they have to charge us a buck to put a little air in our tires. I don't know what's next, but I'm sure some Exxon executive somewhere is figuring out a way to charge for a paper towel and washer fluid to clean your car windows.
Anyway, on with the bike ride. And despite this being a weekend, I stop at Sun Harvest Citrus for free orange juice, and buy a slice of key lime pie and coffee, which I enjoy on their patio while reading Sanibel Flats. This has turned out to be one of my favorite stops. Who doesn't like all the freshly squeezed orange juice you can drink, raise you hand?
The whole bike ride is about 20 miles, because it is 4 miles each way along Cypress Lake Dr/Daniels Parkway (switches when it crosses Highway 41) to access the trail. This is my least favorite part of the bike ride, because it's along a busy stretch of highway with lots of intersections, residential driveways, and entrances to strip malls. So you really have to be careful traversing the stretch to and from the trail. Once you're on the trail, you're home free. I spend quite a bit of time at the rest stop at the northern end of the trail, which is where it intersects with Colonial Blvd. At that location is the eastern edge of Page Field containing one of two approach runways. Page Field is the city's secondary airport for light civilian aircraft, charters, and so forth. It was the city's main airport until 1983 when Southwest Regional Airport was built. Page remains an active airfield, with an average landing of 207 aircraft per day, according to Wikipedia. This gives you an idea of the number of rich folks around here who own airplanes. I sit and read Sanibel Flats, while watching numerous planes fly overhead, cruising at about 100 feet on their approach to land. Most are single-engine "prop jobs" ... Pipers, Beechcrafts, and so forth. But there is also the occasional private jet that streaks overhead and thunders upon touchdown, as the pilots deploy the thrust reversers. This brings back childhood memories when the family would drive over to the old Madison airport, just to watch the planes fly in and out. It was great fun then, and it's still fun now, and a source of wonderment. I wonder how rich you must be to own your own jet?
Anyway, the whole bike ride is very fun, but I have decided I need a more cushiony seat for my bony rump, and will look for one at the flea market tomorrow. I get back to the condo, and I'm hungry as balls, and particularly hungry for a Firehouse Sub sandwich, because I haven't had one since Dec. 28, when Dawn and I shared one at a Firehouse Subs in Orlando. So I Google it, and find a sub shop about 2 miles from the condo along College Parkway. I have a little trouble finding it, because it is located in a distressed strip mall, in which only one other store, a Radio Shack, is operating. The rest of the strip mall is fenced off, presumably to prevent vandalism and/or loitering. So it's a sad little Firehouse Subs. It isn't very busy (especially for a Saturday evening) and they have a skeleton crew on board of people who aren't particularly perky. And the soda dispenser, which dispenses 120 varieties of Coca Cola products, is only partially working. But, damn, the sandwich is good. I order a "New York Steamer" which is hot pastrami and melted cheese on a warm Italian roll, with lettuce, tomato, mustard, and mayo. I have this with a "Coke Zero," and have two refills, one spiked with cherry flavoring, and the other with vanilla. Yum.
Sunday.
After a leisurely breakfast, I head on over to the Fleamasters Flea Market. I buy a new gel-cushion seat for my bicycle, which I figure I will bring home with me and transfer it onto the bike I have at home. I also found a guy, “Chris,” at one of the booths who deals in vintage watches (among other things), and I bought an Elgin doctor’s watch from him, and haggled him down to $140 from his initial asking price of $250. (I think I’ll be able to sell it for $250). We swapped business cards, and hopefully will get together again to look at more watches that he has stashed away at his home/workshop. He also gave me a lead on one of the pawn shops here in town that takes in vintage watches (brands other than Rolex, which tends to be the ONLY brand that most pawn shops take in).
The flea market is a very fun place, and it's amazing what you find here with the variety of merchandise. The whole “market” is a bunch of these wooden structures that are joined into a crisscross complex by a series of breezeways. You walk down “columns” which are marked with colors (Red, Green, Blue, Yellow, Orange) and “rows” which are marked with letters (A through D). And that’s just one portion of the flea market. The other part is contained in a large building known as the “Grand Pavilion,” and “grand” is a misnomer. It kind of reminds me of one of the animal barns at the Wisconsin State Fair. The pavilion has maybe another 100 dealers, plus a music stage where they have live music on Saturdays and Sundays. It’s considered a “privilege” by the merchants to “move up” to the Grand Pavilion, and vacancies by outgoing dealers are quickly scooped up by those waiting in the wings in the building that I previously described. And, as you might guess, the monthly rent is a little higher in the Grand Pavilion. I think you can rent a “starter booth” in the “crisscross” building at $65/month. And then, outside, surrounding both buildings, you have the produce vendors selling fruits, vegetables, potting plants, honey, jam/jellies, and so forth. Total, there are advertised to be 900 dealers. Some of the dealers do very well. But walking down some sections of the aisles is a little like strolling the "Boulevard of Broken Dreams." You can tell the dealers who aren't doing well because their product is too specialized, or their booth is about as welcoming as a pork chop at a kosher wedding.
It looks to me like the first storm that would come along with winds in excess of 50 mph would turn the whole thing into a big pile of kindling, but obviously it has stood for years and years. The owners probably just patch the thing back together after a big storm with slats from orange crates or whatever.
I have been communicating the last couple of days with a woman from Match.com who I will call "Cami."
She initiated contact with me and said my profile looked interesting and that she would like to meet. She’s 60, so at the upper end of my age range I’m looking for, but we seem to share several things in common, one of which is simply frustration over this whole "dating thing." So we approached our meeting as more of a chance to compare notes. Also, she is from Naples, which is about 40 minutes away and kind of far, but one of things I want to talk to her about is the differences between Ft. Myers and other surrounding communities, particularly that Ft. Myers is perceived as kind of ghetto by Naples folks. So I agree to meet her in Naples tomorrow (Monday) and figure that I will use the whole day as kind of a "field trip" to Naples to see what I am missing. Our meeting will be at 4:30, at a place called “Season 52” in outlying Naples along Highway 41, which is the main north-side corridor that connects the various communities that comprise southwest Florida. I am looking forward to this, as Naples has several noted attractions, including a zoo, and a couple of nifty shopping/eating districts in "old downtown" known as "Third Avenue South," and "Fifth Avenue South."
Expenses: key lime pie/coffee $5; dinner at Firehouse Sub, $8; bicycle seat $23. Total: $36
Bruce
Thursday, February 23, 2012
Just Hangin' Out
Wed, Feb. 15 - Friday, Feb. 17
Wednesday Feb. 15 -- after my big bike ride day on Tuesday, I figure the best thing is to get myself into the gym and keep those muscles loosened up, so I ride my bike over to the gym at about 2:30 and do a good workout. One small but interesting development at the condo complex: the electronic entry gate has failed, and now they have posted a 24-hour human "sentry" at the gate to check residents as they enter. It's not a huge hassle; in fact I can often get in more quickly than when I have to wait for that gate to slide open. All I need do is show my "reader card," (I don't have to show picture ID or anything). I know it's a necessity, and without anyone at the gate we would have all manner of people wandering around in here looking for trouble. But it must surely be expensive to post a guard here 24/7. I heard one resident say it's costing $20/hr (I'm sure the guard doesn't make that; but that's what the security company is charging the condo association). So that's $480/day, and by my count the gate has been down for nearly a week. It wouldn't surprise me that the owners here (i.e., including Heather my landlord) get hit with a "special assessment fee" on their next HOA bill. Yet another reason I'm glad I'm not an owner!
Heather (my landlord) stops by in the afternoon with my newest book, Sanibel Flats, which has arrived via eBay, by way of her mailbox here at the condo. This will be my next book, after finishing "Isaac's Storm."
With this being a boring TV night, I plug in one of my DVDs, "Beowuf." This is a modern movie adaptation of a poem written in England between 800 and 1100 A.D. (no one is certain) by an anonymous poet, and it consists of 3,182 long lines of alliterative verse (e.g., " ... The weary, way-worn wanderer bore to his own native shore ...", from Edgar Allan Poe's "To Helen") making it one of those "epic" poems along the lines of Homer's "Illiad." If you've ever seen the movie, you know it's a cross between animation and real photography. Besides the fact that I get to see Angelina Jolie "nude" or at least a damn fine depiction of her (hey, she is crazy as a shithouse rat, but she does have one smokin' body), it's a great story. I like the fact that Beowulf, who slays not only the monster in the beginning of the movie, but also the dragon at the end, is Scandinavian, as portrayed in the original poem. Norwegians kicked ass back in their day! Did you know, for example, that back in the "olden times" it is said that Viking sailors of fortune would choose their sea captains not based on the size or beauty of their vessels, and not on the promised ports of plunder, but rather on the quantity of beer they were promised on a daily basis? These are the guys I would want to have on my side if I got into a bar fight!
Thursday Feb. 16
It's kind of lazy day around here. I go to Walmart to pick up a few needed grocery items. I get a call from my buddy, Dan Denning, in Atlanta during the afternoon, because he is stuck in Atlanta traffic (a very common occurrence) and he has decided to call me, as is his habit during these "down times" of his when he has nothing better to do! I give him the recap of my time in Daytona Beach at the twin shoes. He tells me he has sold his Angeus 18kt multi-date chronograph for $1,3000, which is a pity because I had hoped to at least get a look at it based on the description of the watch he gave me in a previous discussion. I actually own one of these in stainless steel, but would LOVE to have one in 18kt gold. But this is way it goes with Dan; he typically doesn't hold stuff for long because he always needs money for the next "big deal" or to finance various family emergencies, which seem to happen fairly regularly.
I go out to the condo's pool in the afternoon, and finish the book I am reading, which is "Isaac's Storm," by Erik Larson. It is about the great hurricane of 1900 that destroyed Galveston Texas, It’s amazing how he manages to capture the utter terror of what those people in Galveston endured Saturday-Sunday with just his words, especially the double horror of going through the night without any source of light save for an occasional candle or kerosene lantern, when people couldn’t see what was happening around them.
Tonight is NBC comedy night, and I tune in to see my "regulars" of Parks and Recreation, 30 Rock, and The Office. All three are pretty good tonight. I also have two eBay auctions that end tonight of miscellaneous pieces that I acquired in Daytona as part of "package deals." One is a lady's Eska mechanic sport watch; the other is a movement out of a lady's Omega watch. They bring $30 and $25, respectively, and I am happy with that because I didn't figure much of anything into their value, so this is "found money" as far as I'm concerned. After paying 12% eBay fees, this will fatten my Paypal account by a net of $48, which is a solid grocery run for the week.
I also begin an email conversation with a woman named "Tam," who is from match.com. He actually contacts me first, which is kind of a rarity, and she admits I am the first date in which she has initiated the contact. (Despite it being 2012, research still suggests that women are intimidated about making the first move on online dating sites for fear of being perceived as too "pushy" or "forward." I find that amazing.) We exchange a few emails, but then she confesses to prefering "texting," so we exhange cell phone numbers. I have never been a great "texter," but I agree in the interest of getting things moving. We agree to meet somewhere in Naples (where she is from) and this will be fine, since I have been wanted to make a "field trip" to Naples anyway and see what I've been told I'm "missing" as far as Naples being a better location than Fort Myers. We agree on Monday, with exact time and place to be determined by her (since I've no idea what would be a good place to meet), and she will text me during the weekend, or on Monday, with details. We discuss the very distinct possibility that we may not be "right" for one another (at age 60, she is at the upper limit of my desired age range), but that it would be fun (or at least interesting) to get together and compare notes on our respective experiences on Match, and she says she will be more than happy to speak to the differences (from her perspective) between Ft. Myers and Naples, and how each community perceives the other. If things go beyond this and we decide there is "chemisry," then fine. But for now, we treat this more as a "meeting" than a "date," and this is fine. Maybe this is the way all first "dates" should be thought of, at least in this "medium" of online dating. We'll see.
Friday Feb. 17
Another rather lazy day today, but I do get my eBay packages off in the mail, which is kind of a convulted two-step process. First, it's off to "Office Depot," where I use one their internet-connected computers to print my lables, since I don't have a printer with me. This ends up costing me 32 cents, which is a bargain. Then, I tape my labels to the packages, and take them over to a postal substation, which is just a couple of blocks from the condo. I also print a label to put on a package for my watchmaker, but I won't ship that box until tomorrow because I don't have the repairs ready yet, but at least I'll have the label ready and won't have to make another run to Office Depot. I'm actually more loyal to "Staples," but the nearest Staples store is several miles away, and this place is closer and, as it turns out, cheaper to use because Staples charges for the computer time, and Office Depot does not, a glitch in OD's system which I'm sure they will figure out soon and "correct."
Anyway, I reward my morning's exhaustive work with a trip to Starbucks, where I have coffee and a brownie. I use my netbook computer (which has a different IP address than my notebook computer) and Starbuck's Internet connection to enter a bid (using the eBay login and password of my friend, Mario Mardones) to enter a bid on a box of watches I have at auction on eBay. This entering of a "protecter bid" is a big no-no with eBay, and they can suspend you if you get caught (they monitor IP addresses, and this is why I use the netbook to enter the bid), but the lot is not doing very well, and I really don't want to let the box go for less than $75, seeing as how (sister) Dawn went to the trouble of shipping it to me an all. So I enter a bid of $74, and we'll see what happens. If Mario ends up "winning" the box of watches, I'll be stuck with it, and have to bring them back with me. But that's fine. I'm just not prepared to give these watches away, and I really don't understand why they're doing so poorly; eBay bidders normally have gone apeshit over these lots in the past when I've auctioned them. I send an email to Mario informing him that he now has an open bid for a box of watches.
After my litttle nefarious activity, I dive into "Sanibel Flats." The author, Randy Wayne White, is a local celebrity around here. His "Doc Ford" series of mysteries, of which "Sanibel Flats" is the first, have become so popular that he has opened a couple of restaurants bearing his character's namesake, "Doc Ford's Sanibel Rum Bar & Grill." One of the "Doc Ford" restaurants/bars is on Sanibel Island (appropriately enough), and the other is on the waterfront of Fort Myers, at the channel that separates it from Ft. Myer's Beach. It's right were the San Carlos Blvd. bridge crosses the channel, so it's very easy to find, and I've passed both places on my bike rides. I think it's cool that this former "government employee" (it's widely speculated he worked for the CIA, but he's not telling) turned author made enough money on his writing to live comfortably and open a couple of restaurants where he can "hang out" when he's not busy with his writing, or doing civic things (for which he is known) on behalf of Southwest Florida.
I'm only 30 pages into the book, but already I'm loving it (apart from the extremely poor quality of the typeface, courtesy of St. Martin's Press, which published the paperback version of this book). Doc Ford is an extremely likabe character. And his background as a former NSA agent is no small coincidence, given White's rumored career prior to becoming a writer. I think Doc Ford may just have become my new Dirk Pitt, which is good because his author, Clive Cussler, has pretty much retired Drik and relegated him to an occasional "cameo appearance" in his novels since the last "true" Dirk Pitt adventure, which was Atlantis Found back in 1999. So discovering "Doc Ford" while down here was a good thing, and I hope to visit one of the Doc Ford restaurants soon.
I also email (sister) Dawn in the late a.m., and tell her to start thinking of her birthday, and suggest a few places to take her (mostly spa-themed) and that I will call her later tonight to discuss. I do a workout in the afternoon, then return to the condo and finish the last of the chicken noodle soup that I have made with the frozen "scraps" of the roast chicken I bought at the Walmart supermarket about a week ago for $5.99. I think I ended up getting about six meals out of that damn chicken, making it one of the most reasonable meals to be found.
I call Dawn, and she tells me that as much as she appreciates the idea of "going somewhere," she would rather have help with various house-related "to-do" projects that she has written down on a wish list. And she tells me what she has written down, and it's all good, worthy stuff, and I tell her it will be my pleasure to help her on at least one, if not a couple, of things she has on her list.
After that, I watch the second of four DVDs I have recently purchased, this one “Thirteen Days” starring Kevin Costner. And even though he is not my favorite actor, the movie was excellent and pretty true to the events that happened October 1963. It was some scary shit. I don’t think people today have much of a clue about how close this country (and world) came to nuclear Armageddon. And the general public back then CERTAINLY had no clue because we didn’t have CNN or the Internet or anything like that. There were several occasions during those 13 days when a split-second decision could have made things go either way. It was Bobby Kennedy who finally brokered the deal with the Soviet ambassador behind the Pentagon’s back. Had those assholes at the Pentagon (led by that dipshit Curtis Lemay) had their way, I doubt seriously any of us would be here today.
Before going to bed, I check my emails one last time, and find I have a reply from Mario about the bid on the box of watches. He says that is fine, no problem, and he reports that he and (his wife) Barbara are currently in Miami and headed to Cuba in the morning (Saturday) as part of their educational tour as arranged through the University of Wisconsin alumni group. He says it is good he contacted him today, because he thinks were will not be any Internet access in Cuba for the next few days. I want to reply and tell him what a coincidence that I just saw a movie about the Cuban missle crisis, but I decide to wait and not bother Mario as he is preparing for his journey to Cuba.
Expenses: groceries, $22; Starbucks, $5. Total: $27.
Bruce
Wednesday Feb. 15 -- after my big bike ride day on Tuesday, I figure the best thing is to get myself into the gym and keep those muscles loosened up, so I ride my bike over to the gym at about 2:30 and do a good workout. One small but interesting development at the condo complex: the electronic entry gate has failed, and now they have posted a 24-hour human "sentry" at the gate to check residents as they enter. It's not a huge hassle; in fact I can often get in more quickly than when I have to wait for that gate to slide open. All I need do is show my "reader card," (I don't have to show picture ID or anything). I know it's a necessity, and without anyone at the gate we would have all manner of people wandering around in here looking for trouble. But it must surely be expensive to post a guard here 24/7. I heard one resident say it's costing $20/hr (I'm sure the guard doesn't make that; but that's what the security company is charging the condo association). So that's $480/day, and by my count the gate has been down for nearly a week. It wouldn't surprise me that the owners here (i.e., including Heather my landlord) get hit with a "special assessment fee" on their next HOA bill. Yet another reason I'm glad I'm not an owner!
Heather (my landlord) stops by in the afternoon with my newest book, Sanibel Flats, which has arrived via eBay, by way of her mailbox here at the condo. This will be my next book, after finishing "Isaac's Storm."
With this being a boring TV night, I plug in one of my DVDs, "Beowuf." This is a modern movie adaptation of a poem written in England between 800 and 1100 A.D. (no one is certain) by an anonymous poet, and it consists of 3,182 long lines of alliterative verse (e.g., " ... The weary, way-worn wanderer bore to his own native shore ...", from Edgar Allan Poe's "To Helen") making it one of those "epic" poems along the lines of Homer's "Illiad." If you've ever seen the movie, you know it's a cross between animation and real photography. Besides the fact that I get to see Angelina Jolie "nude" or at least a damn fine depiction of her (hey, she is crazy as a shithouse rat, but she does have one smokin' body), it's a great story. I like the fact that Beowulf, who slays not only the monster in the beginning of the movie, but also the dragon at the end, is Scandinavian, as portrayed in the original poem. Norwegians kicked ass back in their day! Did you know, for example, that back in the "olden times" it is said that Viking sailors of fortune would choose their sea captains not based on the size or beauty of their vessels, and not on the promised ports of plunder, but rather on the quantity of beer they were promised on a daily basis? These are the guys I would want to have on my side if I got into a bar fight!
Thursday Feb. 16
It's kind of lazy day around here. I go to Walmart to pick up a few needed grocery items. I get a call from my buddy, Dan Denning, in Atlanta during the afternoon, because he is stuck in Atlanta traffic (a very common occurrence) and he has decided to call me, as is his habit during these "down times" of his when he has nothing better to do! I give him the recap of my time in Daytona Beach at the twin shoes. He tells me he has sold his Angeus 18kt multi-date chronograph for $1,3000, which is a pity because I had hoped to at least get a look at it based on the description of the watch he gave me in a previous discussion. I actually own one of these in stainless steel, but would LOVE to have one in 18kt gold. But this is way it goes with Dan; he typically doesn't hold stuff for long because he always needs money for the next "big deal" or to finance various family emergencies, which seem to happen fairly regularly.
I go out to the condo's pool in the afternoon, and finish the book I am reading, which is "Isaac's Storm," by Erik Larson. It is about the great hurricane of 1900 that destroyed Galveston Texas, It’s amazing how he manages to capture the utter terror of what those people in Galveston endured Saturday-Sunday with just his words, especially the double horror of going through the night without any source of light save for an occasional candle or kerosene lantern, when people couldn’t see what was happening around them.
Tonight is NBC comedy night, and I tune in to see my "regulars" of Parks and Recreation, 30 Rock, and The Office. All three are pretty good tonight. I also have two eBay auctions that end tonight of miscellaneous pieces that I acquired in Daytona as part of "package deals." One is a lady's Eska mechanic sport watch; the other is a movement out of a lady's Omega watch. They bring $30 and $25, respectively, and I am happy with that because I didn't figure much of anything into their value, so this is "found money" as far as I'm concerned. After paying 12% eBay fees, this will fatten my Paypal account by a net of $48, which is a solid grocery run for the week.
I also begin an email conversation with a woman named "Tam," who is from match.com. He actually contacts me first, which is kind of a rarity, and she admits I am the first date in which she has initiated the contact. (Despite it being 2012, research still suggests that women are intimidated about making the first move on online dating sites for fear of being perceived as too "pushy" or "forward." I find that amazing.) We exchange a few emails, but then she confesses to prefering "texting," so we exhange cell phone numbers. I have never been a great "texter," but I agree in the interest of getting things moving. We agree to meet somewhere in Naples (where she is from) and this will be fine, since I have been wanted to make a "field trip" to Naples anyway and see what I've been told I'm "missing" as far as Naples being a better location than Fort Myers. We agree on Monday, with exact time and place to be determined by her (since I've no idea what would be a good place to meet), and she will text me during the weekend, or on Monday, with details. We discuss the very distinct possibility that we may not be "right" for one another (at age 60, she is at the upper limit of my desired age range), but that it would be fun (or at least interesting) to get together and compare notes on our respective experiences on Match, and she says she will be more than happy to speak to the differences (from her perspective) between Ft. Myers and Naples, and how each community perceives the other. If things go beyond this and we decide there is "chemisry," then fine. But for now, we treat this more as a "meeting" than a "date," and this is fine. Maybe this is the way all first "dates" should be thought of, at least in this "medium" of online dating. We'll see.
Friday Feb. 17
Another rather lazy day today, but I do get my eBay packages off in the mail, which is kind of a convulted two-step process. First, it's off to "Office Depot," where I use one their internet-connected computers to print my lables, since I don't have a printer with me. This ends up costing me 32 cents, which is a bargain. Then, I tape my labels to the packages, and take them over to a postal substation, which is just a couple of blocks from the condo. I also print a label to put on a package for my watchmaker, but I won't ship that box until tomorrow because I don't have the repairs ready yet, but at least I'll have the label ready and won't have to make another run to Office Depot. I'm actually more loyal to "Staples," but the nearest Staples store is several miles away, and this place is closer and, as it turns out, cheaper to use because Staples charges for the computer time, and Office Depot does not, a glitch in OD's system which I'm sure they will figure out soon and "correct."
Anyway, I reward my morning's exhaustive work with a trip to Starbucks, where I have coffee and a brownie. I use my netbook computer (which has a different IP address than my notebook computer) and Starbuck's Internet connection to enter a bid (using the eBay login and password of my friend, Mario Mardones) to enter a bid on a box of watches I have at auction on eBay. This entering of a "protecter bid" is a big no-no with eBay, and they can suspend you if you get caught (they monitor IP addresses, and this is why I use the netbook to enter the bid), but the lot is not doing very well, and I really don't want to let the box go for less than $75, seeing as how (sister) Dawn went to the trouble of shipping it to me an all. So I enter a bid of $74, and we'll see what happens. If Mario ends up "winning" the box of watches, I'll be stuck with it, and have to bring them back with me. But that's fine. I'm just not prepared to give these watches away, and I really don't understand why they're doing so poorly; eBay bidders normally have gone apeshit over these lots in the past when I've auctioned them. I send an email to Mario informing him that he now has an open bid for a box of watches.
After my litttle nefarious activity, I dive into "Sanibel Flats." The author, Randy Wayne White, is a local celebrity around here. His "Doc Ford" series of mysteries, of which "Sanibel Flats" is the first, have become so popular that he has opened a couple of restaurants bearing his character's namesake, "Doc Ford's Sanibel Rum Bar & Grill." One of the "Doc Ford" restaurants/bars is on Sanibel Island (appropriately enough), and the other is on the waterfront of Fort Myers, at the channel that separates it from Ft. Myer's Beach. It's right were the San Carlos Blvd. bridge crosses the channel, so it's very easy to find, and I've passed both places on my bike rides. I think it's cool that this former "government employee" (it's widely speculated he worked for the CIA, but he's not telling) turned author made enough money on his writing to live comfortably and open a couple of restaurants where he can "hang out" when he's not busy with his writing, or doing civic things (for which he is known) on behalf of Southwest Florida.
I'm only 30 pages into the book, but already I'm loving it (apart from the extremely poor quality of the typeface, courtesy of St. Martin's Press, which published the paperback version of this book). Doc Ford is an extremely likabe character. And his background as a former NSA agent is no small coincidence, given White's rumored career prior to becoming a writer. I think Doc Ford may just have become my new Dirk Pitt, which is good because his author, Clive Cussler, has pretty much retired Drik and relegated him to an occasional "cameo appearance" in his novels since the last "true" Dirk Pitt adventure, which was Atlantis Found back in 1999. So discovering "Doc Ford" while down here was a good thing, and I hope to visit one of the Doc Ford restaurants soon.
I also email (sister) Dawn in the late a.m., and tell her to start thinking of her birthday, and suggest a few places to take her (mostly spa-themed) and that I will call her later tonight to discuss. I do a workout in the afternoon, then return to the condo and finish the last of the chicken noodle soup that I have made with the frozen "scraps" of the roast chicken I bought at the Walmart supermarket about a week ago for $5.99. I think I ended up getting about six meals out of that damn chicken, making it one of the most reasonable meals to be found.
I call Dawn, and she tells me that as much as she appreciates the idea of "going somewhere," she would rather have help with various house-related "to-do" projects that she has written down on a wish list. And she tells me what she has written down, and it's all good, worthy stuff, and I tell her it will be my pleasure to help her on at least one, if not a couple, of things she has on her list.
After that, I watch the second of four DVDs I have recently purchased, this one “Thirteen Days” starring Kevin Costner. And even though he is not my favorite actor, the movie was excellent and pretty true to the events that happened October 1963. It was some scary shit. I don’t think people today have much of a clue about how close this country (and world) came to nuclear Armageddon. And the general public back then CERTAINLY had no clue because we didn’t have CNN or the Internet or anything like that. There were several occasions during those 13 days when a split-second decision could have made things go either way. It was Bobby Kennedy who finally brokered the deal with the Soviet ambassador behind the Pentagon’s back. Had those assholes at the Pentagon (led by that dipshit Curtis Lemay) had their way, I doubt seriously any of us would be here today.
Before going to bed, I check my emails one last time, and find I have a reply from Mario about the bid on the box of watches. He says that is fine, no problem, and he reports that he and (his wife) Barbara are currently in Miami and headed to Cuba in the morning (Saturday) as part of their educational tour as arranged through the University of Wisconsin alumni group. He says it is good he contacted him today, because he thinks were will not be any Internet access in Cuba for the next few days. I want to reply and tell him what a coincidence that I just saw a movie about the Cuban missle crisis, but I decide to wait and not bother Mario as he is preparing for his journey to Cuba.
Expenses: groceries, $22; Starbucks, $5. Total: $27.
Bruce
Monday, February 20, 2012
Valentine's Day
Mon. - Tuesday Feb. 13-14
Thanks, readers, for your continued patience, as I try to catch up!
On Monday, I head over to the fitness center for a workout. I have made a dinner date with my friend, Carol, over to "Big Al's City Sports Grill" on Tamiani Trail (Hwy 41) a couple of miles from the condo. They run a special on Monday nights to drive business to their establishment on what is normally the slowest restaurant day of the week for restaurants in general. And, boy, does it ever work in "Al's" case! The deal is: ANY dinner on the menu for $10.95, regardless of the posted price. The special excludes any dinners that are marked "Market Price," such as the crab legs, lobster, etc. But you can order their most expensive dinner, which is is 10 oz. top sirloin with four shrimp, normally $17.95, for $10.95. The only other "catch" is that you must order some type of beverage. Doesn't have to alcoholic; just any beverage. So if you're ordering two "surf and turfs," that saves you fourteen bucks.
So the joint is hopping for a Monday night. Carol meets me there at 5 p.m., and by the time we leave about 6:30, there is a wait for tables. Carol and I each get the surf and turf, with our steaks done medium rare. We each get a salad and a baked potato. Everything is delicious. I order a warm apple pie for dessert, and Carol has maybe one bite, claiming she is putting on weight.
She follows me back to the condo, and I show her the watches I have bought in Daytona Beach, which she finds interesting. She leaves about 9:00.
Tuesday Feb. 14
Thanks, readers, for your continued patience, as I try to catch up!
On Monday, I head over to the fitness center for a workout. I have made a dinner date with my friend, Carol, over to "Big Al's City Sports Grill" on Tamiani Trail (Hwy 41) a couple of miles from the condo. They run a special on Monday nights to drive business to their establishment on what is normally the slowest restaurant day of the week for restaurants in general. And, boy, does it ever work in "Al's" case! The deal is: ANY dinner on the menu for $10.95, regardless of the posted price. The special excludes any dinners that are marked "Market Price," such as the crab legs, lobster, etc. But you can order their most expensive dinner, which is is 10 oz. top sirloin with four shrimp, normally $17.95, for $10.95. The only other "catch" is that you must order some type of beverage. Doesn't have to alcoholic; just any beverage. So if you're ordering two "surf and turfs," that saves you fourteen bucks.
So the joint is hopping for a Monday night. Carol meets me there at 5 p.m., and by the time we leave about 6:30, there is a wait for tables. Carol and I each get the surf and turf, with our steaks done medium rare. We each get a salad and a baked potato. Everything is delicious. I order a warm apple pie for dessert, and Carol has maybe one bite, claiming she is putting on weight.
She follows me back to the condo, and I show her the watches I have bought in Daytona Beach, which she finds interesting. She leaves about 9:00.
Tuesday Feb. 14
I had just about as perfect a day I could imagine, except the obvious thing of not having someone to share it with, which of course was brought into sharper relief by the fact it was Valentine’s Day. I spent the entire day over on Sanibel. I started with a HUGE breakfast at the Sanibel Café with a full stack of their delicious pancakes (similar to mine) and I smuggled in a bottle of REAL maple syrup. I later was talking to “Katie” (the waitress) about this, and she said the restaurant offers real maple syrup for a $1 upcharge. I can’t imagine they give you very much for a buck, but I’ll try them next time. My only gripe about the place is their coffee; it’s a weak-ass generic grade coffee that they must get from their provisions supplier. Pity, but I’m not going to abandon them, because their food is fabulous, at least their breakfasts. The ‘cakes are definitely better than those at the “Lighthouse Café,” which are like bricks.
After breakfast, I went next door to an Italian dolcé shop that carries gelato, baked goods, and ironically serves a GREAT cup of strong coffee. I got a cup, then sat outside on one of their tables and read (“Isaac’s Storm”) and I had my little netbook computer with me, so I caught up a little bit on the blog. I stayed there until almost noon.
Then over to Billy’s Rentals where I picked up a nice beach cruiser and proceeded to bike on over to the Darling nature preserve. On the way, I passed a big turtle (maybe about 20 inches in diameter) which was grazing on some grass next to the bike path. I took a picture on my phone camera. When I got to the nature preserve, I showed the photo to one of the volunteers, and he identified it as a “Gopher Tortoise,” and said they were very common on the island. In fact, they wander onto the roadway quite often. If it’s daylight, the locals will often stop their cars, pick up the creatures, and set them back the side of the road. If it’s night time, well, often the tortoises aren’t so lucky. So after perusing the visitor’s center, I biked the four-mile nature trail (a two lane roadway shared by cars, bikes, and pedestrians) and saw lots of birds and another big frickin’ ‘gator pretty close up. The only minor glitch was at the beginning of the ride back at Billy’s, when I spritzed myself with a bottle of sunscreen that I had gotten on Sunday from the flea market for $3. It comes in one of those spray pump bottles. I accidentally got some in my left eye, and it stung like a motherfucker. I finally had to stop at a restroom about a mile from Billy’s and rinse out the eye, but then all was better. After the nature preserve, I went over to Bowman's Beach where I stripped down to my shorts and walked barefoot along the surf line for about a quarter mile. There wasn’t anyone swimming in the ocean because it was still a quite choppy. But the sun was out full blast and there were many people on the beach soaking up the sun. I want to say it was around 80 degrees.
I then rode back to Billy’s, missing one of my turns and ending up biking about another mile. But it was a pretty drive through another section of a nature preserve. When I finally got back to Billy’s I was only 15 minutes over my 4 hours that I had paid for, and they didn’t charge me anything extra. By that time it was around 5 p.m. and the traffic coming off the island was horrendous, so I decided to to stay on the island for dinner. My car was parked in Billy’s “overflow lot,” so I figured they wouldn’t mind, so I just started walking along the main drag and wandered into the first restaurant I came to, which was a place called “Trader’s Café,” which is an upscale bistro that has gotten good reviews on tripadvisor. The place was packed, and the hostess was turning people away, and I couldn’t figure it out, and then it dawned on me that it was Valentine’s Day. So I walked a couple more doors down to a place called “Island Pizza” which serves a lot of other stuff but of course their specialty is pizza. I ordered a 10 inch “Island Special” which is piled high with four different meats and lots of veggies, and I asked for thin crust. It was delicious, all washed down with two Budweisers. It was probably good that I ended up there anyway, because the place was definitely more laid back than “Trader’s,” and by this time I was a hot, ripe mass of sweat and sunscreen. I stayed there about an hour and read more of my book. I actually had sense enough to let the pizza cool a little bit before jamming a volcanic slice of it into my pie hole.
By then, the traffic had eased, so I began the 12 mile car ride back to the condo, including the 2-1/2 miles over the causeway which is simply beautiful. I arrived back at the condo at around 6:30 or so, and immediately stripped down and jumped into the shower and got all the sweat, sunscreen, and sand off me. During my shave, I noticed I had only some minor sunburn in a few patches that I missed with the sunscreen, so I guess it worked. It’s from a company called Mission Skin Care and is (or was) marketed to athletes because it’s fast-drying and supposed to be resistant to sweat and water. And now that I actually read the can, it says, “For face, spray on hands first and then apply.” (Hey, I did have sense enough to close my eyes before I “spritzed,” but obviously it still got in my eye.) The can retails for 10 bucks (I checked their website) but evidently a load must have fallen off a truck somewhere, and it ended up at Fleamasters and I got it for 3 bucks.
Anyway, I then got into a a fresh T-shirt, undies, and socks, and put on this nice pair of lounge shorts that I like to wear around the house. I plopped down on the sectional in the living room, and that’s when the exhaustion hit me. All that fresh air and exercise, then topped off with a pizza and a couple of beers. Zowie. Abby jumped up, and laid on top of my chest, which was very sweet, but her A.D.D. soon set her off in a different direction. I think I could just laid there all night and fallen asleep. But I wanted to watch “Biggest Loser,” and it did capture my attention. Plenty of drama among the contestants this season, and that's the way NBC likes it!
Expenses: dinner for Carol and I, $36; food on Sanibel $35; bike rental, $10. Total: $81
Bruce
Thursday, February 16, 2012
The Weekend
Saturday - Sunday Feb. 11-12
After the big week in Daytona Beach, it's time to just kick back and relax.
Of course, the news all over the Internet is the death at age 48 of Whitney Houston. I am sad, but not surprised. Yet another example of a star who could not handle their fame. I can well remember her self-titled debut album back in 1985 when she was new, fresh, and had a voice that brought chills. From there, she crested, and began to sink as quickly. I think the low point for me was her occasional appearances (mostly off camera) in the "Being Bobby Brown" reality show, where her cocaine-induced cries for "BOBBYYYYYY," became the brunt of jokes. Shame on the Bravo channel for airing this piece of crap, even for the one season it ran in 2005, while at the same time the cable channel was running other, mostly good programming that appealed to a little higher level of humanity. (Although they have now sunk into a pit of despair and human depravity, ala "Real Housewives ...") That Whitney made it seven years after that is amazing, but I knew it would only be a matter of time before she self-destructed. What a wicked waste. And that's all I have to say about that.
OK, the one thing I DO need is groceries because I am just about out of everything, having cleaned out the fridge before my departure. So after a breakfast of oatmeal, I head over to the Walmart Neighborhood Market and drop $75, which includes $30 for a Benicar prescription refill.
This includes $13 for two ribeye steaks (on sale for $6.99 a pound) of which I will have one tonight and freeze the other one for later. I also get a potato for baking to go along with that.
After I put away the groceries, I'm in serious need of a workout, having "slacked" in Daytona for the week, so I bike over to Anytime Fitness at around 2 p.m. and do my usual routine, having a protein bar for "lunch" during the workout. I return to the condo and "fire up" the electric grill. (There's no fire, just a heating element, but grills with flame are not allowed at the condo community.) I cook up one of those ribeyes medium rare and have it with half a baked potato (saving the other half for home fries for later). Delicious, and washed down with a cold can of "Busch" beer.
Sunday
I make a quick morning run to the Publix for a Sunday paper, kitty litter, and a half pound each of Boar's Head Tavern Ham (it's the best!) and sliced Havarti cheese. If you're wondering why I didn't pick up these items yesterday at the Walmart, it's because Publix has a better deli! The notable thing this morning is the weather ... it has turned unseasonably cold, and the temperature gauge on the Prius reads 43 degrees. I actually have to put on a sweatshirt to make this particular errand! After breakfast, I list a couple items on eBay that I have purchased in Daytona that I want to turn quickly. After checking the coupons and the Travel/Leisure section of the Sunday paper, I head on over to the Fleamaster Flea Market for something to do. I want some more DVD videos, and to touch base with my book guy, Chris. I have been wanting a copy of "Sanibel Flats," by Randy Wayne White since I started hearing about this local author about a month ago. Copies locally are hard to come by since he's a "local hero" of sorts, so I finally ordered one off of eBay for a buck (plus $3.95 shipping) on February 7th while I was in Daytona. Hopefully, it will be here next week. Ironically, Chris has a first edition at his flea market booth, but he wants $100 for it. I only require a reading copy of course! I also pick up four DVDs for ten bucks for the "movie lady" including:
I also score a spray bottle of SPF 30 sunscreen for three bucks, and pick up a four-pound bag of grapefruit for another three bucks, and the lady offers me another bag for a buck if I will take it. It's Sunday (the last day of the flea market for the week) and it's getting on 2 p.m. (they close at 5), so I'm guessing they reduce their prices later in the day to get rid of the produce because it's probably too old to sell by the following week. I wish I could eat that many grapefruit, but I have to pass on that particular bargain. The interesting thing about today's flea market is that nearly everyone (vendors and shoppers) are bundled up in winter coats, hats, and some are even wearing gloves or mittens. And here I am walking around in shorts and a T-shirt. I don't think it got much above 50 degrees today, and the wind is blowing also. A couple people take note of summer attire and comment, "You're not from around here, are you." and they don't phrase it as a question!
I head back to the condo, skipping my usual stop at Sun Harvest for key lime pie and coffee. It's delicious, but I need to throttle back a little bit. I get a little reading done. I'm well into "Isaac's Storm," which is a fascinating account of the 1900 hurricane that leveled Galveston, Texas. Now, I want to visit Galveston (I didn't realize it was an island), and may schedule my next cruise out of there because it is a deep water port used by Royal Caribbean (and other cruise lines, I'm sure). Anybody up for being my "cruise buddy" for next winter?
I also watched and enjoyed the Grammy awards on CBS. I boycotted this particular awards program for several years, because it was just getting too out of control with loud, angry, music with lyrics I could not understand. I think the music industry has returned to some level of sanity, and is going back to artists whose music is more happy or, at the very least, understandable. Of course, it's a reflection of the public's tastes, and I think things have mellowed out a little bit, and people are realizing they have plenty of other things to be pissed off about; they don't need anger and discord in their music.
The show was of course dominated by Whitney Houston's death, but managed to carry on. It is unfortunate that one of her most remembered songs is (and probably will be) "I Will Always Love You." It's a trite, blase, four-chord song written by Dolly Parton (and she never did well with it by the way) but I suppose it was a natural choice for her tribute song, and at least Jennifer Hudson had sufficient chops to belt it out.
The Beach Boys reunion number was fun, but at the same time sad. Brian Wilson looked so fragile, if not downright narcoleptic. Mark Love looked a little more perky, as did Al Jardin and the other "originals." I can't prove it, but I could swear somebody else was hitting those high falsetto notes on "Good Vibrations" while the original guys were lip syncing. Yeah, I know, the guys are in their '70s. I get it. But should they be performing, let along doing a 50th Anniversary Reunion tour that will reportedly take in 50 U.S. dates and 50-60 overseas dates? I don't know for sure, but I think not. Like Wayne Newton, they should have hung it up years ago and been remembered for the great band that they WERE. Time will tell, and the dates and number of performances keeps changing almost on a daily basis. But mark my words: If they attempt the tour, Wilson will drop dead. Remember where you heard it first.
The performance by Glen Campbell was touching, but again sad. Did anyone else catch him saying, "Where do I go?" after the end of "Rhinestone Cowboy"?
Finally, I for one didn't begrudge Adelle one bit for walking away with six Grammys, and she did a nice job on her performance. It's about time a chubby girl who writes and sings songs from the heart and performs without the usual overproduction of 100 backup musicians and electronic gimmickry wins a frickin' award or two! I also thought Bon Iver was worthy of his Indie award, and his shout-out to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, was a hoot and surely unprecedented in award show history. All in all, I thought it was a good show.
Expenses: groceries and meds, $75; movies, sunscreen, and grapefruit, $16. Total: $91
Bruce
Saturday
After the big week in Daytona Beach, it's time to just kick back and relax.
Of course, the news all over the Internet is the death at age 48 of Whitney Houston. I am sad, but not surprised. Yet another example of a star who could not handle their fame. I can well remember her self-titled debut album back in 1985 when she was new, fresh, and had a voice that brought chills. From there, she crested, and began to sink as quickly. I think the low point for me was her occasional appearances (mostly off camera) in the "Being Bobby Brown" reality show, where her cocaine-induced cries for "BOBBYYYYYY," became the brunt of jokes. Shame on the Bravo channel for airing this piece of crap, even for the one season it ran in 2005, while at the same time the cable channel was running other, mostly good programming that appealed to a little higher level of humanity. (Although they have now sunk into a pit of despair and human depravity, ala "Real Housewives ...") That Whitney made it seven years after that is amazing, but I knew it would only be a matter of time before she self-destructed. What a wicked waste. And that's all I have to say about that.
OK, the one thing I DO need is groceries because I am just about out of everything, having cleaned out the fridge before my departure. So after a breakfast of oatmeal, I head over to the Walmart Neighborhood Market and drop $75, which includes $30 for a Benicar prescription refill.
This includes $13 for two ribeye steaks (on sale for $6.99 a pound) of which I will have one tonight and freeze the other one for later. I also get a potato for baking to go along with that.
After I put away the groceries, I'm in serious need of a workout, having "slacked" in Daytona for the week, so I bike over to Anytime Fitness at around 2 p.m. and do my usual routine, having a protein bar for "lunch" during the workout. I return to the condo and "fire up" the electric grill. (There's no fire, just a heating element, but grills with flame are not allowed at the condo community.) I cook up one of those ribeyes medium rare and have it with half a baked potato (saving the other half for home fries for later). Delicious, and washed down with a cold can of "Busch" beer.
Sunday
I make a quick morning run to the Publix for a Sunday paper, kitty litter, and a half pound each of Boar's Head Tavern Ham (it's the best!) and sliced Havarti cheese. If you're wondering why I didn't pick up these items yesterday at the Walmart, it's because Publix has a better deli! The notable thing this morning is the weather ... it has turned unseasonably cold, and the temperature gauge on the Prius reads 43 degrees. I actually have to put on a sweatshirt to make this particular errand! After breakfast, I list a couple items on eBay that I have purchased in Daytona that I want to turn quickly. After checking the coupons and the Travel/Leisure section of the Sunday paper, I head on over to the Fleamaster Flea Market for something to do. I want some more DVD videos, and to touch base with my book guy, Chris. I have been wanting a copy of "Sanibel Flats," by Randy Wayne White since I started hearing about this local author about a month ago. Copies locally are hard to come by since he's a "local hero" of sorts, so I finally ordered one off of eBay for a buck (plus $3.95 shipping) on February 7th while I was in Daytona. Hopefully, it will be here next week. Ironically, Chris has a first edition at his flea market booth, but he wants $100 for it. I only require a reading copy of course! I also pick up four DVDs for ten bucks for the "movie lady" including:
- Beowulf;
- I, Robot;
- Matchstick Men; and
- Thirteen Days
I also score a spray bottle of SPF 30 sunscreen for three bucks, and pick up a four-pound bag of grapefruit for another three bucks, and the lady offers me another bag for a buck if I will take it. It's Sunday (the last day of the flea market for the week) and it's getting on 2 p.m. (they close at 5), so I'm guessing they reduce their prices later in the day to get rid of the produce because it's probably too old to sell by the following week. I wish I could eat that many grapefruit, but I have to pass on that particular bargain. The interesting thing about today's flea market is that nearly everyone (vendors and shoppers) are bundled up in winter coats, hats, and some are even wearing gloves or mittens. And here I am walking around in shorts and a T-shirt. I don't think it got much above 50 degrees today, and the wind is blowing also. A couple people take note of summer attire and comment, "You're not from around here, are you." and they don't phrase it as a question!
I head back to the condo, skipping my usual stop at Sun Harvest for key lime pie and coffee. It's delicious, but I need to throttle back a little bit. I get a little reading done. I'm well into "Isaac's Storm," which is a fascinating account of the 1900 hurricane that leveled Galveston, Texas. Now, I want to visit Galveston (I didn't realize it was an island), and may schedule my next cruise out of there because it is a deep water port used by Royal Caribbean (and other cruise lines, I'm sure). Anybody up for being my "cruise buddy" for next winter?
I also watched and enjoyed the Grammy awards on CBS. I boycotted this particular awards program for several years, because it was just getting too out of control with loud, angry, music with lyrics I could not understand. I think the music industry has returned to some level of sanity, and is going back to artists whose music is more happy or, at the very least, understandable. Of course, it's a reflection of the public's tastes, and I think things have mellowed out a little bit, and people are realizing they have plenty of other things to be pissed off about; they don't need anger and discord in their music.
The show was of course dominated by Whitney Houston's death, but managed to carry on. It is unfortunate that one of her most remembered songs is (and probably will be) "I Will Always Love You." It's a trite, blase, four-chord song written by Dolly Parton (and she never did well with it by the way) but I suppose it was a natural choice for her tribute song, and at least Jennifer Hudson had sufficient chops to belt it out.
The Beach Boys reunion number was fun, but at the same time sad. Brian Wilson looked so fragile, if not downright narcoleptic. Mark Love looked a little more perky, as did Al Jardin and the other "originals." I can't prove it, but I could swear somebody else was hitting those high falsetto notes on "Good Vibrations" while the original guys were lip syncing. Yeah, I know, the guys are in their '70s. I get it. But should they be performing, let along doing a 50th Anniversary Reunion tour that will reportedly take in 50 U.S. dates and 50-60 overseas dates? I don't know for sure, but I think not. Like Wayne Newton, they should have hung it up years ago and been remembered for the great band that they WERE. Time will tell, and the dates and number of performances keeps changing almost on a daily basis. But mark my words: If they attempt the tour, Wilson will drop dead. Remember where you heard it first.
The performance by Glen Campbell was touching, but again sad. Did anyone else catch him saying, "Where do I go?" after the end of "Rhinestone Cowboy"?
Finally, I for one didn't begrudge Adelle one bit for walking away with six Grammys, and she did a nice job on her performance. It's about time a chubby girl who writes and sings songs from the heart and performs without the usual overproduction of 100 backup musicians and electronic gimmickry wins a frickin' award or two! I also thought Bon Iver was worthy of his Indie award, and his shout-out to Eau Claire, Wisconsin, was a hoot and surely unprecedented in award show history. All in all, I thought it was a good show.
Expenses: groceries and meds, $75; movies, sunscreen, and grapefruit, $16. Total: $91
Bruce
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
My Week in Daytona Beach
Monday Feb. 6 -- Friday Feb. 10
It is here at this junction, I encounter a huge accident (one of many, I hear, at this busy and dangerous confluence of highways) where a tanker truck is overturned and off into the ditch, and several other vehicles are obviously involved. I later look for news, and hear nothing of death, so assume it was just a big nasty mess. It delayed my arrival to Daytona by about a half hour.
I arrived to sunshine, and warm temps. I checked into the Plaza Resort and Spa. I did not get the free "suite upgrade" that I did last year, but at the very least I had an ocean front room on the fourth floor (better than an "ocean view") complete with a mini kitchen with sink, microwave, and mini fridge.
So my first move was to head to the nearby Publix supermarket for provisions. On the way, I learned that the nice weather was soon to end, when I called (sister) Dawn, and she asked if it was raining in Daytona yet. Apparently, some sort of weird, once-a-century low pressure front was covering most of Florida, and we were in for some cold, cloudy, windy, and wet weather for the next few days. As I neared the Publix, I could see the clouds moving in already. I picked up some sandwich fixins (including some Hawaiian bread mini sub rolls ... did anyone know they make these? They are delicious), some cold salads, a bag of "Combos" cheese/pretzel rolls, a bag of Lindor dark chocolate truffles, a bag of Starbucks coffee, coffee filters, a 12 pack of Coke, a six pack of beer, a bottle of tequila, and some margarita mix. In all, I spent 60 bucks, but then I figured I was covered for the week for morning coffee, lunches, cocktail hour, and evening munchies. And plenty of coffee, tequila, and diet Coke to take back with me to Ft. Myers.
By the time I got back to the Plaza, it was raining. No problem, for their parking garage is covered. I got my provisions stowed away, and immediately made a sandwich because it was 3 p.m. by then and I was pretty hungry, having had nothing since breakfast along the 5 hour road trip from Ft. Myers. I was pretty tired after that, so I took a nice nap.
When I awoke, it was dark out and I could hear wind howling outside my patio window. I watched a "Pawn Stars" marathon on the History Channel (nice big flat screen TV in my room), read, caught on the blog, and finally hit the sack around 11 p.m. Tomorrow is the first day of the first of two shows in Daytona, this one hosted by Girard Sensoli, and referred to as the "Girard Show." The format of this show is a little more loose, and dealers can display most anything of a collectible nature, including jewelry, knives, pens, and what-not. At the NAWCC show, to come later in the week, only items of a horological nature can be displayed. So it makes the Girard show a little more interesting and provides a little more opportunity for creative trading.
I have breakfast in the hotel's cafe (the Magnolia) of eggs over easy, sausage, home fries, toast, and coffee. The Girard show is right in the same hotel (thankfully, due to the weather) so I make my way to the conference/ballroom area, pay my $25 entrance fee, and enter the mart room. The room is bustling with the usual "snatch and grab" crowd looking for Rolexes and other high-end watches, while I work my way through the aisles looking for hidden gems among the second- and third-tier brands. I see some familiar faces, and make introductions with others. I see my buddy, Zaf Basha, from Washington, whose acquaintance goes back to the mid '80s. He is still working on this second book, on military wristwatches, and he anticipates completion in about 18 months. He is one of the few "thinking man's" watch collectors here, and it is good to run into him. We have an interesting discussion about the orderly disposal of our personal collections, when the time comes. I learn that he has already begun disposing of his collection by dividing the number of his watches into the number of years between his current age (48) and his retirement at age 65, and figuring that is the number of watches he will sell annually. Very appropriate for a man who deals with analysis and statistics at his "day job" as a computer expert with a Washington D.C. consulting firm.
So anyway, I venture outside the hotel to find a "can cozy" for my cans of soda and beer. I find one at a souvenir shop across the street. It's on a clearance rack, and is emblazoned with "The 2011 Daytona 500," but it's only a buck fifty, so I snap it up. I also poke my head into a bar/restaurant across the street called the "Oyster Pub" because I overheard they were rumored to have a 2-for-1 happy hour from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. I confirm this with the hostess, and decide this is where I will have my dinner tonight.
I finally hit the patio/pool area around 1 p.m., with my current read ("Isaac's Storm") and my insulated can of "Busch Beer" and proceed to expose my white and hairy body to the sun, occasionally flipping over in my chaise lounge. I have a little bit of company on the deck, but nobody is in the pool, save for some sea gulls bathing (and no doubt crapping) in the fresh water, and of course there is still nobody in the ocean, which is still frothing from the wind. I get in some good reading, and relaxing, listening to the rhythms of the surf.
Today, I have breakfast at an IHOP located on Atlantic Drive by the of hotel, and on the way to the Ocean Center. I have a stack of their classic pancakes and a side of bacon, and get to enjoy four different flavors of syrup. I share a table with a fellow who looks like a "watch guy" and so start up a conversation. His name is Ken, and he has come all the way from Great Britain, and specializes in collecting pocket watches that are signed "Coventry" which he explains was a hub of English watchmaking up until about 1900 or so, but he explains that many of the watchmakers from Coventry made pocket watches for other companies, so very few are actually signed "Coventry" on the case, movement, or dial. I also tell him about a minor fascination I have with English fusees with their tiny chain drives that aren't much larger in thickness than a normal piece of string. He explains that many of the chains that went into English fusees where manufactured in Chichester. The links were stamped out from dies in a mechanized, fashion, but then they actually used child labor to hand assemble the links into chains because their eyesight was better and more suited to closeup work, and their smaller hands enabled them to more easily assemble the delicate links into chains. He went on to say it was kind of national tragedy because literally thousands of young children typically 12 years old (and sometimes younger) lost much of their ability to see by the time they were age 15 or so because of all the closeup work. Interesting story, and yet another example of the human cost in our species' efforts to climb the industrial ladder.
I get into the show shortly after 11 a.m. when it opens and begin looking around and making the rounds at the tables. There are 10 rows, each with about 30 dealers or thereabout, so you can do the math. The dealers are pretty equally divided between clock people and watch people, which is encouraging because usually the ratio is about 70/30 weighted toward clocks. The bad part is the overall number of dealers is down, and there aren't a lot of people here walking the aisles and buying. And most who are walking are the tableholders, trying to strike a wholesale deal with a fellow dealer. Hard way to make a buck. I can well remember back in the late 1980s when I first started coming to this show, that it was three times this size, and on opening day, you could hardly squeeze your way through the aisles it was so packed with actual COLLECTORS looking for pieces for their collections and paying collector prices rather than dealer prices. This is what the Internet has done to "live" shows now. Who wants to shell out a thousand bucks to spend a week in Florida when you can turn on your computer and look at 60,000 watches on eBay at any given moment for free? I'm awfully glad I didn't spend the extra 60 bucks to get a table here. As it was, the admission was $60, which I thought was kind of expensive, but then everything is going up, and with fewer people registered, the cost per person to get in the show naturally has to go higher. It's a vicious circle. I score a few deals, which again I will list at the end. The overall mood of the show was pretty jovial, with most people's major complaint being about the weather.
The weather this a.m. remains crappy, and the forecast for tomorrow shows no improvement, so I make a command decision to check out of the hotel a day early. Today is the last day of the NAWCC show anyway, and as long as nature is preventing my enjoyment of the beach and the ocean, I might as well get rained on in Fort Myers as Daytona Beach, and save another $122 night's stay in the process. (The association's "special rate" for this room is $112, but with taxes it ends up being $122. Which is a bargain, by the way, but $122 to watch it rain on the beach is still not worth it!)
I also make a connection with a Zodiac watch collector by the name of Christian Hawley, which may prove useful down the road when I write a follow up story on Zodiac watches.
Monday Feb. 8
After a breakfast of bacon and eggs, I change out the kitty litter, pack the car, and head off to the twin watch shows at Daytona Beach. According to Google, it's 217 miles, and about 4 hours and 20 minutes, assuming no stops and/or traffic snags. The first leg to Orlando goes the slowest, along U.S. Highway 17, that takes you numerous nondescript cities and towns in the inner section of Florida. Once you hit Interstate 4, you whisk along until you hit Kissimmee/Orlando, and then of course it's a crap shoot navigating the theme park corridor, then downtown, then north Orlando and Winter Park. Then you have another clear shot for about 30-40 miles until you hit the dividing point where Interstate 4 ends, and splits either to I-95, or to State Road 92, which takes you to Daytona Beach.
It is here at this junction, I encounter a huge accident (one of many, I hear, at this busy and dangerous confluence of highways) where a tanker truck is overturned and off into the ditch, and several other vehicles are obviously involved. I later look for news, and hear nothing of death, so assume it was just a big nasty mess. It delayed my arrival to Daytona by about a half hour.
I arrived to sunshine, and warm temps. I checked into the Plaza Resort and Spa. I did not get the free "suite upgrade" that I did last year, but at the very least I had an ocean front room on the fourth floor (better than an "ocean view") complete with a mini kitchen with sink, microwave, and mini fridge.
So my first move was to head to the nearby Publix supermarket for provisions. On the way, I learned that the nice weather was soon to end, when I called (sister) Dawn, and she asked if it was raining in Daytona yet. Apparently, some sort of weird, once-a-century low pressure front was covering most of Florida, and we were in for some cold, cloudy, windy, and wet weather for the next few days. As I neared the Publix, I could see the clouds moving in already. I picked up some sandwich fixins (including some Hawaiian bread mini sub rolls ... did anyone know they make these? They are delicious), some cold salads, a bag of "Combos" cheese/pretzel rolls, a bag of Lindor dark chocolate truffles, a bag of Starbucks coffee, coffee filters, a 12 pack of Coke, a six pack of beer, a bottle of tequila, and some margarita mix. In all, I spent 60 bucks, but then I figured I was covered for the week for morning coffee, lunches, cocktail hour, and evening munchies. And plenty of coffee, tequila, and diet Coke to take back with me to Ft. Myers.
By the time I got back to the Plaza, it was raining. No problem, for their parking garage is covered. I got my provisions stowed away, and immediately made a sandwich because it was 3 p.m. by then and I was pretty hungry, having had nothing since breakfast along the 5 hour road trip from Ft. Myers. I was pretty tired after that, so I took a nice nap.
When I awoke, it was dark out and I could hear wind howling outside my patio window. I watched a "Pawn Stars" marathon on the History Channel (nice big flat screen TV in my room), read, caught on the blog, and finally hit the sack around 11 p.m. Tomorrow is the first day of the first of two shows in Daytona, this one hosted by Girard Sensoli, and referred to as the "Girard Show." The format of this show is a little more loose, and dealers can display most anything of a collectible nature, including jewelry, knives, pens, and what-not. At the NAWCC show, to come later in the week, only items of a horological nature can be displayed. So it makes the Girard show a little more interesting and provides a little more opportunity for creative trading.
Tuesday Feb. 7
I awake, and the first thing I see outside my patio window is an angry sea. White caps are blowing in like giant mounds of marshmallow fluff. Warnings are posted for swimmers not to enter the water, and every so often a police cruiser drives by to make sure there are no crazy people wading into the surf. I see one lone jogger, and he is keeping a safe distance from the water line. The sound of the waves crashing into one another is reminiscent of something I remembered along the rocky coast of Maine rather than a white sand beach. I have never seen the ocean like this, but of course I've never been to Florida during the traditional storm season, so I'm sure this is a common sight around that time of year. It is strangely beautiful, though I'm sure this weird patch of weather is ruining vacations for millions who are spending the week here.
I have breakfast in the hotel's cafe (the Magnolia) of eggs over easy, sausage, home fries, toast, and coffee. The Girard show is right in the same hotel (thankfully, due to the weather) so I make my way to the conference/ballroom area, pay my $25 entrance fee, and enter the mart room. The room is bustling with the usual "snatch and grab" crowd looking for Rolexes and other high-end watches, while I work my way through the aisles looking for hidden gems among the second- and third-tier brands. I see some familiar faces, and make introductions with others. I see my buddy, Zaf Basha, from Washington, whose acquaintance goes back to the mid '80s. He is still working on this second book, on military wristwatches, and he anticipates completion in about 18 months. He is one of the few "thinking man's" watch collectors here, and it is good to run into him. We have an interesting discussion about the orderly disposal of our personal collections, when the time comes. I learn that he has already begun disposing of his collection by dividing the number of his watches into the number of years between his current age (48) and his retirement at age 65, and figuring that is the number of watches he will sell annually. Very appropriate for a man who deals with analysis and statistics at his "day job" as a computer expert with a Washington D.C. consulting firm.
I spend the better part of the afternoon roaming the show, picking up a few things, which I will detail at the end of this blog entry. The weather has not improved, so I return to my room for naps, reading, Internet browsing, and TV watching. I hit the sack about 10 p.m.
Wednesday Feb. 8
I again have breakfast at the Magnolia, but take my own cup of Starbucks down to the cafe to save the $2 charge for coffee (mine is better coffee anyway!). This morning, I have a "choose three" omelet with ham, Swiss cheese, and green pepper. I have this with grits instead of the home fries. No toast. I head over to day two of the Girard show and do a little final trading.
We get a nice break in the weather during the afternoon. It is still cold and windy, but at least the clouds part and we have some nice sunshine, so I decide to spend part of the afternoon out on the hotel's beautiful sun deck/pool area.
The Plaza Resort and Spa is sort of the "gray lady" among the hotels that line Daytona Beach. During its heyday of the 1920s and '30s. it drew stars, dignitaries, and captains of industry. It was THE place to be on the beach. The rich would fly their planes right onto the beach, and park their Duesenbergs and Packards. It is now looking a little long in the tooth, but to me still has that Art Deco charm not found at the more modern Hiltons, Marriotts, and Sheratons. It suits me, and I hope that NAWCC continues to use this as the host hotel for the mid-winter regional, assuming they do not move it back to Orlando (which they very well may do).
So anyway, I venture outside the hotel to find a "can cozy" for my cans of soda and beer. I find one at a souvenir shop across the street. It's on a clearance rack, and is emblazoned with "The 2011 Daytona 500," but it's only a buck fifty, so I snap it up. I also poke my head into a bar/restaurant across the street called the "Oyster Pub" because I overheard they were rumored to have a 2-for-1 happy hour from 4 p.m. to 7 p.m. I confirm this with the hostess, and decide this is where I will have my dinner tonight.
I finally hit the patio/pool area around 1 p.m., with my current read ("Isaac's Storm") and my insulated can of "Busch Beer" and proceed to expose my white and hairy body to the sun, occasionally flipping over in my chaise lounge. I have a little bit of company on the deck, but nobody is in the pool, save for some sea gulls bathing (and no doubt crapping) in the fresh water, and of course there is still nobody in the ocean, which is still frothing from the wind. I get in some good reading, and relaxing, listening to the rhythms of the surf.
I get back to my room and clean up for my trip over to the Oyster Pub. There, I order a half dozen raw oysters. They are not my favorite, but I like to order them once in a while to see if I have acquired the taste for them. Tripadvisor.com reviewers say they are some of the best, freshest oysters to be found in the city. I order a double vodka on the rocks to to with them, because I figure the neutral taste of the vodka is is probably the best thing to go with the delicate flavor of the oysters. I eat the oysters with cocktail sauce, a bit of extra horse radish, and lemon. The vodka is the perfect compliment. While they are certainly fresh and delicate, they are still not my "thing," and they will remain a "once in a while" event with me. I'm still hungry, so now I order a small plate of mild buffalo wings with bleu cheese dressing and celery sticks. With this, I order Jack and Coke, and this time get my "double" in two glasses. It is a delicious combo. I leave the Oyster Pub with four shots of booze in my belly, and it is a good thing I am walking the 1.5 blocks back to the hotel, for I'm fairly certain I'm over the legal blood alcohol limit for driving.
Earlier in the day, I have left a message with my buddy, Mike Porter of Ohio, to call me for a "private showing" of watches in one of our hotel rooms. Tomorrow (Thursday) is the first day of the NAWCC show, and I'd like to see Mike's watches before the flurry of opening day. He agrees, and tells me to come down to his "digs" at at place called "Peck Towers," which is one of those giant round silos of a condominium further south on the beach, almost to Point Orange.
I thought he and his wife were staying at the Plaza, also, but it turns out he and wife along with another couple rented this condo unit for the week, as they have for the last couple of years during the show. I figure this will be cool, because I've never been in one of these high-rise condo units (let along a round one) and this will give me a chance to view and evaluate yet another living option down here for possible future reference.
I arrive at "Peck Tower" at around 8 p.m., and park in the visitor lot. Mike meets me outside the lobby and lets me in, and takes me up the elevator to the 10th floor and his unit. Being circular, all units are in the shape of a pie slice, with the "edge crust" being the big picture window that looks out onto the ocean (if you are on the ocean side), or the city of Daytona Beach with the bay and mainland if you are on the "city side" of the condo. They have a unit on the ocean side, so their view out the window (complete with balcony) is spectacular. But something about the round shape of the unit is unsettling and creates a very inefficient use of floor space. I don't like it, but of course do not say anything to my hosts.
I am also introduced to "Stu (as in Stuart) and Rachel" which are the other couple they share the unit with. They have rented the unit for $1,000 for seven nights, which comes to $500 per couple, which is cheaper than if they stayed at the Plaza for seven nights if you can live with the floor plan. Another unsettling feature is that the inside wall (the point of the pie slice) is entirely mirrored, and the entry door is part of that wall and more or less disappears when it is closed. It kind of gave the place a kind "1960s Playboy Club kind of feel to it. I was looking for Hugh Hefner and a few Bunnies to come jumping out of the side rooms. Anyway, Mike and I did a little trading, and I spent another $225 on some additional watches. And then Pat, who is Mike's wife, asked me if I played "Euchre" and of course I said yes, so four of the five of us ended up playing two rounds of Euchre, with Stu falling asleep on the sofa. By the time we were done, it was 10:30, and I said it was time for me to turn in, so I headed back to the hotel, and by the time I climbed into bed it was 11 p.m.
Thursday Feb. 9
This is the first day of the NAWCC show. Because it is too large to fit into the Plaza Hotel, the show is held at the "Ocean Center" which is part of a convention complex located about six blocks south of the hotel. It makes for a pleasant walk, as long as it's not raining or overly hot, and the walk saves you the $5 charge to park in their open air parking lot.
Today, I have breakfast at an IHOP located on Atlantic Drive by the of hotel, and on the way to the Ocean Center. I have a stack of their classic pancakes and a side of bacon, and get to enjoy four different flavors of syrup. I share a table with a fellow who looks like a "watch guy" and so start up a conversation. His name is Ken, and he has come all the way from Great Britain, and specializes in collecting pocket watches that are signed "Coventry" which he explains was a hub of English watchmaking up until about 1900 or so, but he explains that many of the watchmakers from Coventry made pocket watches for other companies, so very few are actually signed "Coventry" on the case, movement, or dial. I also tell him about a minor fascination I have with English fusees with their tiny chain drives that aren't much larger in thickness than a normal piece of string. He explains that many of the chains that went into English fusees where manufactured in Chichester. The links were stamped out from dies in a mechanized, fashion, but then they actually used child labor to hand assemble the links into chains because their eyesight was better and more suited to closeup work, and their smaller hands enabled them to more easily assemble the delicate links into chains. He went on to say it was kind of national tragedy because literally thousands of young children typically 12 years old (and sometimes younger) lost much of their ability to see by the time they were age 15 or so because of all the closeup work. Interesting story, and yet another example of the human cost in our species' efforts to climb the industrial ladder.
I get into the show shortly after 11 a.m. when it opens and begin looking around and making the rounds at the tables. There are 10 rows, each with about 30 dealers or thereabout, so you can do the math. The dealers are pretty equally divided between clock people and watch people, which is encouraging because usually the ratio is about 70/30 weighted toward clocks. The bad part is the overall number of dealers is down, and there aren't a lot of people here walking the aisles and buying. And most who are walking are the tableholders, trying to strike a wholesale deal with a fellow dealer. Hard way to make a buck. I can well remember back in the late 1980s when I first started coming to this show, that it was three times this size, and on opening day, you could hardly squeeze your way through the aisles it was so packed with actual COLLECTORS looking for pieces for their collections and paying collector prices rather than dealer prices. This is what the Internet has done to "live" shows now. Who wants to shell out a thousand bucks to spend a week in Florida when you can turn on your computer and look at 60,000 watches on eBay at any given moment for free? I'm awfully glad I didn't spend the extra 60 bucks to get a table here. As it was, the admission was $60, which I thought was kind of expensive, but then everything is going up, and with fewer people registered, the cost per person to get in the show naturally has to go higher. It's a vicious circle. I score a few deals, which again I will list at the end. The overall mood of the show was pretty jovial, with most people's major complaint being about the weather.
I pack an energy bar in my Woodman's tote bag (which serves as my "briefcase" for the show) so I do not have to go out for lunch or buy a $20 turkey sandwich at the concession stand. I continue to browse after lunch, and finally throw in the towel at about 4 p.m. I walk back to the hotel, and do the only and only workout for the week in the hotel's "fitness center." The fitness center was bad last year, and is even worse this year, with three barely functioning cardio machines (elliptical, bike, and treadmill) and a collection of rusting weight machines. Despite the awful condition, I actually manage to get in a fairly good workout. Back at the room, I shower, eat from my provisions, then enjoy an evening of reading, watching TV, and Internet surfing.
Friday Feb. 10
The weather this a.m. remains crappy, and the forecast for tomorrow shows no improvement, so I make a command decision to check out of the hotel a day early. Today is the last day of the NAWCC show anyway, and as long as nature is preventing my enjoyment of the beach and the ocean, I might as well get rained on in Fort Myers as Daytona Beach, and save another $122 night's stay in the process. (The association's "special rate" for this room is $112, but with taxes it ends up being $122. Which is a bargain, by the way, but $122 to watch it rain on the beach is still not worth it!)
So I have my final breakfast in the hotel's cafe (again with my own coffee) pack up the Prius, including my remaining groceries, tequila, beer, and Diet Coke), check out, and head over to the Ocean Center and pay the $5 to park. I have no cooler, but figure the remainder of the cold salads (potato salad, cole slaw) will be safe to eat for lunch, as long as I don't leave them in the car too awfully long. I make one final swing around the Mart room, and the only thing I pick up is a group of three old watch catalogs from the collection of Art Zimerla, one of the "old timers" who resides near Lancaster, PA. (I frankly thought the guy was dead; nobody has heard from him in a while. I actually spent a day with him back in the early 2000s --- I want to say 2004 --- when I was on one of my research missions at NAWCC headquarters in Columbia. I mention this to Art, but of course he has long forgotten it.) Art, a long-time widower, is at the show with his son, Art Jr., and they are, as always, inseparable. Art Jr. is a bit "gifted" (as is the current politically correct term for "challenged" or what we used to freely describe as "retarded" which of course you don't dare say any more). He is, as I remember back in 2004, never more than 10 feet away from his dad. Art Senior has (or at least had) a fabulous (and considerably large) collection of watches and watch-related ephemera (signs, store displays, paper, etc.) focusing on American makers, notably Hamilton. One has to wonder (at least I do) of what will play out when Art Senior (who surely must be in his 80s) dies. I'm sure the "kid" (now well into this 30s) will be taken care of financially, but I'm guessing the guy doesn't have a friend in the world.
I also make a connection with a Zodiac watch collector by the name of Christian Hawley, which may prove useful down the road when I write a follow up story on Zodiac watches.
At around 12:30, I eat the last of my perishables from the car, including a turkey/Swiss sandwich, potato salad, coleslaw, baked beans, and a Diet Coke. Everything is warm, but I suffer no ill effects. I say goodbye to my friends, Pat and Mike, and am on the road by 1:30 p.m. or so. My swaps/buys during the last four days are as follows:
- a rare Elgin doctor's watch in sterling case, $325, purchased for my own collection;
- an Elgin Holcomb in virtually mint condition (gold filled) purchase at $275 for my own collection;
- a group of 4 misc. watches for resale, purchased for $110;
- another group of 4 misc. watches, including a working Accutron 214, purchased for $75;
- a group of 4 misc. early Swiss conversion (wire lug) watches purchased for $175;
- a Bulova scalloped lug watch for $25;
- a group of three watches including a GP Gyromatic; Pierce screwed-on back, and a lovely art deco era large square in white gold filled case, traded even up for a chronograph which I was into for $175;
- a Wittnauer asymmetrical gold filled watch, which I traded for a Vulcain wrist alarm, with $350 cash my way. I figure I have $500 into the wrist alarm, so the Wittnauer cost me $150. I think I'll just break even on this watch, but I was glad to get rid of the Vulcain alarm;
- three catalogs, purchased from Art Zimerla, for $10 at one of the silent auctions;
- three genuine Omega signed crowns, purchased for $30 from Mike Porter; and
- a copy of Rene Rondeau's ID book on Hamilton watches. I bought this from Andy Edmiston, a longtime acquaintance, from Lakeland, Fla. He sold me the book for $20. Copies of this book have been going for $250 on eBay because the book is out of print. I felt kind of sheepish about offering Andy such a low price on it, but hey if he doesn't know any better (and he should), it's not my job to educate him. I currently have the book on eBay (I already own a copy) and hope I score big on that one.
I also sold a hunk of scrap 14kt gold, which was a case to a Benrus man's watch. The case weighed 7.2 DWTS, and the guy was paying 97% of market, so I sold the case for $354. I had $200 into the watch, so that was an easy $154 profit. I would never have been able to sell the watch for that amount of money as a complete watch. Sad but true. And I saw many people at the show scrapping both karat gold and gold filled watch cases -- both pocket and wrist.
I got back to Fort Myers and the condo at about 6:30 p.m., but unfortunately not without incident. In Winter Haven, along U.S. Highway 17, I was stopped by a city cop for going 30 mph through a school zone. Honest to God, there are so many speed postings along Highway 17, it's hard to keep track of them, especially as you are going through cities.
But the cop had me dead to rights. I was very humble and apologetic, and all "yes sir" and "no sir," and I lucked out when the cop let me off with a warning, after checking my license and registration for any outstanding warrants and asking me if I was carrying anything illegal in the car. I thought for one brief moment about answering, "Nothing besides a suitcase full of Oxycodone which I'm muling back to Wisconsin for a guy named Sergei in exchange for $2,000 cash," but I figured the cop probably didn't have a sense of humor about these things, so I just kept on with the "yes sirs" and "no sirs" and "I'm sorry sirs" and he let me go.
I got back to the condo, and was out of everything, but too tired to shop, so just nibbled on what was left in the pantry.
It's really hard to estimate non-watch-related expenditures for this past week. The hotel bill was around $500, including three breakfasts. Provisions set me back around $60. Dinner and drinks at the Oyster Pub on Tuesday set me back about $30. A tank of gas at $35. And maybe $20 in incidentals. So call it $645.
Bruce
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Superbowl Weekend
Saturday - Sunday Feb. 3-4
Not a whole lot to report. My usual m.o. on the weekends is to pretty much lay low because the beaches are pretty crowed, as are the restaurants and shopping venues. I listed a couple of watch lots on eBay ... first the Pulsar lady's watch that did not fit Carol's wrist; and second a pair of Swatch models called the "Chandelier" which was issued in "limited edition" (like, they only made a million of them or something!) during Xmas of '92. The interesting thing about them is that Swatch packed them in a wooden crate about the size of a shoe box with a sliding top, and a insulated them with a straw-like material. It was a really cool packaging concept. I don't have the boxes to go with my two; just the watches. But we'll see how they do. I got them for virtually nothing as part of a "buy all or nothing" deal.
I got in a nice workout, and also took a walk to the local Starbucks and hit an ATM for $400 cash to take to Daytona on Monday. I sat by the pool at the condo and read, finishing a novel titled "Pandora's Clock" about a lethal virus that breaks out aboard a 747 airliner, and no one will let them land anywhere. It's by John Nance, who is an aviation consultant for ABC News as well as a licensed commercial pilot. The book was very good, and was made into a TV movie back in 1996 starring the legendary Richard Dean Anderson of "MacGyver" fame.
I've had chicken salad for two dinners in a row, so I'm craving something different tonight, and Dawn has told me about these Chinese heat-and-eat dinners by Wanchai Ferry. I bought one the other day (Beef and Broccoli) at the Walmart for around $6 which I thought was kind of pricey, but it's supposed to feed two people. The story of Wanchai Ferry begins in 1972, with a lady named Madam Chong who sold dumplings from a food cart in the Wanchai district of Hong Kong. By the mid '80s, she established a dumpling factory that attracted the attention of a certain company that you may have heard of, by the name of General Mills. They wrote Madam Chong a very large check, and she has now retired to dumpling heaven in Malibu and shops for pretty shiny things along Rodeo Drive. Meanwhile, General Mills has expanded beyond dumplings into the "expensive-entrees-with-very-little-meat" recipe kit market, and touts these meals as an alternative to going out to a Chinese restaurant.
The only problem is that "feeds two" is a bit of a misnomer. I ate the whole thing myself, consuming 720 calories, 122 grams of carbohydrate (white rice), and --- wait for it --- 2,600 milligrams of sodium, which I think is about 600 mg more than the average person is supposed to consume in an entire day. But I have to admit, it was tasty, if a little light on the actual amount of beef. The rice turns out especially good, in its special little steamer pack that you microwave. I may try these again, especially if I can find a coopen somewhere, and I would recommend these, if you're not too terribly concerned about carbs or sodium.
After dinner, I watched the last of my four DVD movies I bought last Sunday at the flea market, because it is my intention to take them back to the flea market tomorrow and resell them to the lady I bought them from. This final movie is "Road to Perdition," which I never saw in the movie theaters when released in 2002. It is about a ruthless Irish mob, headed by its "Don" played by Paul Newman (which I believe was his last major movie before he died in 2008, although he did do a voice over for the animated movie "Cars" in 2006). The lead character is of course Tom Hanks, who plays a hit man in this movie. And Jude Law plays a photographer with a penchant for photographing dead people, the more "freshly dead," the better. It was a very good movie, and I contemplated keeping it, but ultimately decided to sell it back.
Expenses: Starbucks $5.
Sunday
It's Superbowl today, and I really could care less, but of course it's THE topic of conversation, and all over the newspaper and Internet. I plan to watch it just for the commercials, so I make my plans today so I can be in front of the TV by about 6 p.m. or thereabouts because I don't think the actual game starts until 6:30 or so. After breakfast, I head over to the Fleamasters Flea market. I sell back my four DVDs for a buck apiece, and give my copy of "Pandora's Clock," to my bookselling buddy, Chris, as a gesture of goodwill. (He puts it in his "buck-a-book" section.) I buy some additional watch batteries, three T-shirts for ten bucks, and two leather belts for $5 (that's right: $2.50 apiece). The belts and T-shirts are to replace existing stock that has gotten too big for me, so this feels good.
I get back to the condo, and ride my bike over to Anytime Fitness and do a nice workout, and plan it so that I can be back to the condo in time for the Superbowl. It's about 6:10 by the time I turn on the TV, but I haven't missed much, and I'm in plenty of time to hear the national anthem sung by Kelly Clarkson, who I must say knocked it out of the park, especially compared to the butcher job that Christina Aguilara did on it last year. My top three favorite commercials were:
1. the Doritos one, where the dog buries the cat and bribes the owner with a bag of Doritos;
2. the Pepsi "King's Court" commercial with Elton John; and
3. the Acura "bribe" commercial with Jerry Seinfeld.
I was looking forward to the Matthew Broderick "Ferris Bueller" commercial, but I think all the pre-commercial hype outweighed the actual event. I think Honda really missed the boat by not convincing Ben Stein to reprise his role as the economics teacher (I don't even think his character had a name) in the movie.
Anyway, I even enjoyed the game a little bit, as it was a kind of cliffhanger at the end.
Expenses: belt, T-Shirt, watch batteries, $16
Bruce
Not a whole lot to report. My usual m.o. on the weekends is to pretty much lay low because the beaches are pretty crowed, as are the restaurants and shopping venues. I listed a couple of watch lots on eBay ... first the Pulsar lady's watch that did not fit Carol's wrist; and second a pair of Swatch models called the "Chandelier" which was issued in "limited edition" (like, they only made a million of them or something!) during Xmas of '92. The interesting thing about them is that Swatch packed them in a wooden crate about the size of a shoe box with a sliding top, and a insulated them with a straw-like material. It was a really cool packaging concept. I don't have the boxes to go with my two; just the watches. But we'll see how they do. I got them for virtually nothing as part of a "buy all or nothing" deal.
I got in a nice workout, and also took a walk to the local Starbucks and hit an ATM for $400 cash to take to Daytona on Monday. I sat by the pool at the condo and read, finishing a novel titled "Pandora's Clock" about a lethal virus that breaks out aboard a 747 airliner, and no one will let them land anywhere. It's by John Nance, who is an aviation consultant for ABC News as well as a licensed commercial pilot. The book was very good, and was made into a TV movie back in 1996 starring the legendary Richard Dean Anderson of "MacGyver" fame.
I've had chicken salad for two dinners in a row, so I'm craving something different tonight, and Dawn has told me about these Chinese heat-and-eat dinners by Wanchai Ferry. I bought one the other day (Beef and Broccoli) at the Walmart for around $6 which I thought was kind of pricey, but it's supposed to feed two people. The story of Wanchai Ferry begins in 1972, with a lady named Madam Chong who sold dumplings from a food cart in the Wanchai district of Hong Kong. By the mid '80s, she established a dumpling factory that attracted the attention of a certain company that you may have heard of, by the name of General Mills. They wrote Madam Chong a very large check, and she has now retired to dumpling heaven in Malibu and shops for pretty shiny things along Rodeo Drive. Meanwhile, General Mills has expanded beyond dumplings into the "expensive-entrees-with-very-little-meat" recipe kit market, and touts these meals as an alternative to going out to a Chinese restaurant.
The only problem is that "feeds two" is a bit of a misnomer. I ate the whole thing myself, consuming 720 calories, 122 grams of carbohydrate (white rice), and --- wait for it --- 2,600 milligrams of sodium, which I think is about 600 mg more than the average person is supposed to consume in an entire day. But I have to admit, it was tasty, if a little light on the actual amount of beef. The rice turns out especially good, in its special little steamer pack that you microwave. I may try these again, especially if I can find a coopen somewhere, and I would recommend these, if you're not too terribly concerned about carbs or sodium.
After dinner, I watched the last of my four DVD movies I bought last Sunday at the flea market, because it is my intention to take them back to the flea market tomorrow and resell them to the lady I bought them from. This final movie is "Road to Perdition," which I never saw in the movie theaters when released in 2002. It is about a ruthless Irish mob, headed by its "Don" played by Paul Newman (which I believe was his last major movie before he died in 2008, although he did do a voice over for the animated movie "Cars" in 2006). The lead character is of course Tom Hanks, who plays a hit man in this movie. And Jude Law plays a photographer with a penchant for photographing dead people, the more "freshly dead," the better. It was a very good movie, and I contemplated keeping it, but ultimately decided to sell it back.
Expenses: Starbucks $5.
Sunday
It's Superbowl today, and I really could care less, but of course it's THE topic of conversation, and all over the newspaper and Internet. I plan to watch it just for the commercials, so I make my plans today so I can be in front of the TV by about 6 p.m. or thereabouts because I don't think the actual game starts until 6:30 or so. After breakfast, I head over to the Fleamasters Flea market. I sell back my four DVDs for a buck apiece, and give my copy of "Pandora's Clock," to my bookselling buddy, Chris, as a gesture of goodwill. (He puts it in his "buck-a-book" section.) I buy some additional watch batteries, three T-shirts for ten bucks, and two leather belts for $5 (that's right: $2.50 apiece). The belts and T-shirts are to replace existing stock that has gotten too big for me, so this feels good.
I get back to the condo, and ride my bike over to Anytime Fitness and do a nice workout, and plan it so that I can be back to the condo in time for the Superbowl. It's about 6:10 by the time I turn on the TV, but I haven't missed much, and I'm in plenty of time to hear the national anthem sung by Kelly Clarkson, who I must say knocked it out of the park, especially compared to the butcher job that Christina Aguilara did on it last year. My top three favorite commercials were:
1. the Doritos one, where the dog buries the cat and bribes the owner with a bag of Doritos;
2. the Pepsi "King's Court" commercial with Elton John; and
3. the Acura "bribe" commercial with Jerry Seinfeld.
I was looking forward to the Matthew Broderick "Ferris Bueller" commercial, but I think all the pre-commercial hype outweighed the actual event. I think Honda really missed the boat by not convincing Ben Stein to reprise his role as the economics teacher (I don't even think his character had a name) in the movie.
Anyway, I even enjoyed the game a little bit, as it was a kind of cliffhanger at the end.
Expenses: belt, T-Shirt, watch batteries, $16
Bruce
Friday, February 10, 2012
Watches, Hanging Out
Wednesday Feb. 1 - Friday Feb. 3
February gets off to a rather inauspicious start. I awake kind of stiff from the big bike ride yesterday, so I decide a good workout will be just the ticket to stretch out those sore muscles. And speaking of working out, I tally my number of visits to Anytime Fitness for the month of January, and they come to 10, which works out to just a hair over $6 per visit for the $61/month fee I am paying. There probably would have been more visits, but there was a big gap between between Jan. 8 and Jan. 13 during the cruise and Julie's time here with me in Ft. Myers. So I think this expenditure is well worth it.
Heather (my landlady) will be meeting me at the condo at 5 p.m. today to pick up her rent check for February, and hopefully will have my box of watches that have arrived from Evansville via Dawn.
Phoebe is doing better and limping less and less on that left foot of hers, and that is good. She will be 13 years old this year, and is still one tough resilient little kitty girl. I just love her, and she looks so funny with the "poodle" cut on her left leg. I should have the had vet shave her right leg, too, so she would have a matching set (just kidding).
Heather arrives promptly at 5 p.m., and picks up her rent check for $1,650 for the month of February. She also has my box of watches. I tell her about Phoebe and her accident and that is should not prove to be any inconvenience for her while watching Phoebe (and Abby) the upcoming week while I'm in Daytona Beach. I also ask her about the "Swifter" mop in the closet for cleanup on the tile floor surfaces. She tells me which kind of mop heads to get.
I go to the Walmart supermarket and pick up a rotisserie chicken, and also some mop heads, of a generic brand, that are supposed to fit the "Swifter." Back at the condo, I dine on chicken, Uncle Ben's rice, and steamed carrots, and I have plenty of chicken left over for a couple of meals, plus I save the bones and scraps for soup.
I try the Swifter mop on the kitchen floor, but there is no mechanism on the mop for the wrap-around edges of the disposable cloth to stick to the top of the mop head, so the cloth just kind of flails around on the tile floor while I squirt a little "juice" from the reservoir of cleaning fluid on the device to provide some cleaning action. I mean, the thing works, but it's certainly not a very elegant solution to the problem. I know people spend millions of dollars of these things, and of course this is another one of those devices like men's razors where the manufacturer of the device (which is Procter and Gamble, by the way) will practically GIVE you the God damn mop and then make their fortune on the disposable cloths and the cleaning fluid, both of which no doubt have about a 500% profit margin. I don't think I'll be buying one of these things, though my $7 expenditure for a small pack of mop clothes will help clean up of the condo floor (the condo flooring --- both upstairs and down -- is all hard surface. Tile downstairs, and wood laminate upstairs). Does anyone use one of these "Swifters"? Am I missing something here? Am I using it the wrong way? Was the burden of mankind reduced in any significant way by the invention and propagation of this device? Failing any evidence to the contrary, I am renaming this device the "Slugster."
I spend the remainder of the evening sorting through watches, and come up with four possible dress watches for my friend, Carol, and set aside a few others that I can sell on eBay individually. The remainder, I will sell as a lot on eBay so I don't have to bring them back with me.
Expenses: Slugster mop head refills: $7; rotisserie chicken, $6. Total: $13
Thursday Feb. 2
Today I head over to the Publix for some deli (they have a better deli -- featuring Boar's Head cold cuts and cheese -- than Walmart) and also because I have a $1 Publix coopen (coupon) for some of those dishwasher tablets with the rinse aid built in (which, by the way, I think is a GOOD invention). I also snag an extra $100 cash (in preparation for my watch show next week in Daytona) at the checkout using my debit card. (Another great idea -- getting "free" cash with your debit card instead of paying $2-$3 service fee at the ATM; I think the merchants love it, too, because they have less cash to count/handle at the end of the day).
I do another workout today, and for dinner I make a delicious chicken salad with leftover rotisserie chicken, celery, grapes, walnuts, and Miracle Whip, and then stuff that mixture into onion Pita pockets. I watch a DVD this evening, called "Running with Scissors." It's a very good movie (released 2006), and while there were several laugh-out loud hilarious moments in the movie, it is overall very dark and deals with extreme family dysfunction and an extremely unethical psychotherapist supposedly trying to help the family, but only making things worse. It is based on the journals/memoirs of Augusten Burroughs, born 1965, who spent his childhood/adolescence going through this nightmare, and lived to tell the tale, and is still alive and living/working in New York. He even makes a cameo appearance in the movie at the very end. There’s a lot of good actors in it, including Annette Benning, Alec Baldwin, Jill Clayburgh (now deceased), and Gwyneth Paltrow.
Expenses: Groceries, $16.
Friday Feb. 3
Today I find a nearby Ace Hardware store and visit there to pick up a couple of watch batteries for the watches I have found for my friend Carol. She is coming over at around 4 p.m., and we're going to look at watches, and then I'll either cook her something over to the condo, or we'll hit a local spot called the Lazy Flamingo, which has a raw bar and various other seafood goodies, and a good selection of beers.
I get the watch batteries and then the Sun Harvest Citrus place is nearby, so I visit and get some free juice samples, along with a slice of key lime pie (the best I've found in Ft. Myers) along with a cup of coffee, and enjoy that on their patio.
I prepare four watches for Carol to look at, and she arrives at the condo at about 5 p.m.. She brings me a small gift of a covered butter dish after she has previously learned that Phoebe likes to jump up on the counter and lick the butter in the regular dish that I have it in. This was very nice of her.
She loves the watches I have picked out and got running for her, and thinks I am her hero. I give her a quick lesson in the economics of modern watches, i.e., that they are typically marked up five times what they cost. I tell her never EVER pay full retail for a watch. Even when they are "on sale" at 80% of original retail, they are still typically being sold at twice what they cost! She ends up with three of the four watches (the fourth doesn't quite fit her) which will hopefully look very nice for her job interviews.
I decide to make dinner for us at the condo, so I throw together some more chicken salad, using up all the remaining rotisserie chicken (I still have the scraps for soup) and serve the salad on onion pitas. For dessert, I make a variation on the "Hot Fudge Number One" sundae from Ella's deli in Madison. I grill a couple pieces of pound cake in butter. Then top each with a scoop of vanilla Haagen Dazs ice cream. Then hit it with a layer of hot fudge, and finish it with chopped pecans. Carol is wowed, and I have to say the dessert was pretty good. We chat for a while, but then Carol wants to take a nap before she reports to work at 11 p.m. We have agreed to this ahead of time ... that she will bring her work clothes and change into them and leave from my condo, since her work is about 5 minutes from my place. So I set her up in the guest bedroom upstairs, and I let her sleep while I watch back episodes of "Biggest Loser" on my computer while wearing the headphones. It made for a rather surreal "date." I have to say this is the first date I've ever been on where I had to wake the person up at 10 p.m. so they could go to work!
Expenses: watch batteries, $5; Sun Harvest Citrus, $5; sundae fixins, $5. total: $15
Bruce
February gets off to a rather inauspicious start. I awake kind of stiff from the big bike ride yesterday, so I decide a good workout will be just the ticket to stretch out those sore muscles. And speaking of working out, I tally my number of visits to Anytime Fitness for the month of January, and they come to 10, which works out to just a hair over $6 per visit for the $61/month fee I am paying. There probably would have been more visits, but there was a big gap between between Jan. 8 and Jan. 13 during the cruise and Julie's time here with me in Ft. Myers. So I think this expenditure is well worth it.
Heather (my landlady) will be meeting me at the condo at 5 p.m. today to pick up her rent check for February, and hopefully will have my box of watches that have arrived from Evansville via Dawn.
Phoebe is doing better and limping less and less on that left foot of hers, and that is good. She will be 13 years old this year, and is still one tough resilient little kitty girl. I just love her, and she looks so funny with the "poodle" cut on her left leg. I should have the had vet shave her right leg, too, so she would have a matching set (just kidding).
Heather arrives promptly at 5 p.m., and picks up her rent check for $1,650 for the month of February. She also has my box of watches. I tell her about Phoebe and her accident and that is should not prove to be any inconvenience for her while watching Phoebe (and Abby) the upcoming week while I'm in Daytona Beach. I also ask her about the "Swifter" mop in the closet for cleanup on the tile floor surfaces. She tells me which kind of mop heads to get.
I go to the Walmart supermarket and pick up a rotisserie chicken, and also some mop heads, of a generic brand, that are supposed to fit the "Swifter." Back at the condo, I dine on chicken, Uncle Ben's rice, and steamed carrots, and I have plenty of chicken left over for a couple of meals, plus I save the bones and scraps for soup.
I try the Swifter mop on the kitchen floor, but there is no mechanism on the mop for the wrap-around edges of the disposable cloth to stick to the top of the mop head, so the cloth just kind of flails around on the tile floor while I squirt a little "juice" from the reservoir of cleaning fluid on the device to provide some cleaning action. I mean, the thing works, but it's certainly not a very elegant solution to the problem. I know people spend millions of dollars of these things, and of course this is another one of those devices like men's razors where the manufacturer of the device (which is Procter and Gamble, by the way) will practically GIVE you the God damn mop and then make their fortune on the disposable cloths and the cleaning fluid, both of which no doubt have about a 500% profit margin. I don't think I'll be buying one of these things, though my $7 expenditure for a small pack of mop clothes will help clean up of the condo floor (the condo flooring --- both upstairs and down -- is all hard surface. Tile downstairs, and wood laminate upstairs). Does anyone use one of these "Swifters"? Am I missing something here? Am I using it the wrong way? Was the burden of mankind reduced in any significant way by the invention and propagation of this device? Failing any evidence to the contrary, I am renaming this device the "Slugster."
I spend the remainder of the evening sorting through watches, and come up with four possible dress watches for my friend, Carol, and set aside a few others that I can sell on eBay individually. The remainder, I will sell as a lot on eBay so I don't have to bring them back with me.
Expenses: Slugster mop head refills: $7; rotisserie chicken, $6. Total: $13
Thursday Feb. 2
Today I head over to the Publix for some deli (they have a better deli -- featuring Boar's Head cold cuts and cheese -- than Walmart) and also because I have a $1 Publix coopen (coupon) for some of those dishwasher tablets with the rinse aid built in (which, by the way, I think is a GOOD invention). I also snag an extra $100 cash (in preparation for my watch show next week in Daytona) at the checkout using my debit card. (Another great idea -- getting "free" cash with your debit card instead of paying $2-$3 service fee at the ATM; I think the merchants love it, too, because they have less cash to count/handle at the end of the day).
I do another workout today, and for dinner I make a delicious chicken salad with leftover rotisserie chicken, celery, grapes, walnuts, and Miracle Whip, and then stuff that mixture into onion Pita pockets. I watch a DVD this evening, called "Running with Scissors." It's a very good movie (released 2006), and while there were several laugh-out loud hilarious moments in the movie, it is overall very dark and deals with extreme family dysfunction and an extremely unethical psychotherapist supposedly trying to help the family, but only making things worse. It is based on the journals/memoirs of Augusten Burroughs, born 1965, who spent his childhood/adolescence going through this nightmare, and lived to tell the tale, and is still alive and living/working in New York. He even makes a cameo appearance in the movie at the very end. There’s a lot of good actors in it, including Annette Benning, Alec Baldwin, Jill Clayburgh (now deceased), and Gwyneth Paltrow.
Expenses: Groceries, $16.
Friday Feb. 3
Today I find a nearby Ace Hardware store and visit there to pick up a couple of watch batteries for the watches I have found for my friend Carol. She is coming over at around 4 p.m., and we're going to look at watches, and then I'll either cook her something over to the condo, or we'll hit a local spot called the Lazy Flamingo, which has a raw bar and various other seafood goodies, and a good selection of beers.
I get the watch batteries and then the Sun Harvest Citrus place is nearby, so I visit and get some free juice samples, along with a slice of key lime pie (the best I've found in Ft. Myers) along with a cup of coffee, and enjoy that on their patio.
I prepare four watches for Carol to look at, and she arrives at the condo at about 5 p.m.. She brings me a small gift of a covered butter dish after she has previously learned that Phoebe likes to jump up on the counter and lick the butter in the regular dish that I have it in. This was very nice of her.
She loves the watches I have picked out and got running for her, and thinks I am her hero. I give her a quick lesson in the economics of modern watches, i.e., that they are typically marked up five times what they cost. I tell her never EVER pay full retail for a watch. Even when they are "on sale" at 80% of original retail, they are still typically being sold at twice what they cost! She ends up with three of the four watches (the fourth doesn't quite fit her) which will hopefully look very nice for her job interviews.
I decide to make dinner for us at the condo, so I throw together some more chicken salad, using up all the remaining rotisserie chicken (I still have the scraps for soup) and serve the salad on onion pitas. For dessert, I make a variation on the "Hot Fudge Number One" sundae from Ella's deli in Madison. I grill a couple pieces of pound cake in butter. Then top each with a scoop of vanilla Haagen Dazs ice cream. Then hit it with a layer of hot fudge, and finish it with chopped pecans. Carol is wowed, and I have to say the dessert was pretty good. We chat for a while, but then Carol wants to take a nap before she reports to work at 11 p.m. We have agreed to this ahead of time ... that she will bring her work clothes and change into them and leave from my condo, since her work is about 5 minutes from my place. So I set her up in the guest bedroom upstairs, and I let her sleep while I watch back episodes of "Biggest Loser" on my computer while wearing the headphones. It made for a rather surreal "date." I have to say this is the first date I've ever been on where I had to wake the person up at 10 p.m. so they could go to work!
Expenses: watch batteries, $5; Sun Harvest Citrus, $5; sundae fixins, $5. total: $15
Bruce
Monday, February 6, 2012
A Deluxe Day at the Beach
Tuesday Jan. 31
Today, I decide to spend a deluxe day at the Fort Myers Beach. I say "deluxe" because I decide to ride my bike all the way there and back, which is 9.3 miles each way, including the quarter mile San Carlos Boulevard bridge over to the key which has about a 10% grade going up before it reaches the middle. This is will be a major undertaking.
To add even a little more "deluxe," Carol calls me in the morning as I'm finishing breakfast and asks what I'm doing that day. I tell her about the beach, and she asks if she can join me, and I say sure, and we agree to meet at Pete's Time Out by the pier at around noon for lunch.
I head out around 11 a.m., figuring about an hour to get to the beach. I head southwest on McGregor Blvd. which eventually turns into San Carlos which takes you to the beach. It's very level, but McGregor is a busy main highway with many intersections, and even though you're up on the sidewalk, you are very close to the traffic and of course have to contend with all the driveways to homes and businesses, many of them "blind" so you do have to be careful. There is an alternate route of taking Sumerlin Ave. to San Carlos, and I may try that next time.
Anyway, I get over to the island and lash my bike to a palm tree not 50 feet from Pete's, and find a table and sit down and order a beer at about 12:10. Not bad timing, especially since I "walked" the bike over the San Carlos bridge in the pedestrian lane. Carol calls me in about 10 minutes on my cell and says she's on the island, but hasn't found a parking place yet.
She finally arrives about 12:45 and order a Bud, and I have another, along with a basket of deep fried Langostinos which is a featured appetizer today. We both order a grilled Mahi sandwich with fries and have a very nice lunch along with another Bud for each of us. That makes Bruce 3, Carol 2. We finish, then take a nice walk along the beach, and the pier, and finish up with a small vanilla cone at the Dairy Queen, which Carol says has been there forever.
It's getting on 3:30, and we must part because I have a 9.3 mile ride back. I decide to tackle the San Carlos bridge in the traffic lane. This is a bit of a gamble, because once you commit, you are not supposed to stop in the traffic lane. I supposed you hop over the barricade to the pedestrian lane and then lift your bike over, but how embarrassing would that be? So I decide to try it, and it just about did me in making it to the top of the bridge, pumping those bike pedals with all my might while standing up on the bike. But I made it, and I'm proud of myself. I don't think I've been in this good of shape in years. When I reach the other side, I cross over to the sidewalk and stop the bike and get off and catch my breath. By the time I finally get back to the condo, I am exhausted, sweaty, and sunburned. I hop into the shower for a nice long soak, and do myself up with Aloe gel afterward. I lay down on the couch in the living room and fall asleep.
I later get up, have a light supper, then head to bed. It's been a great day.
There is also another option to get to the beach. I can ride my bike as far as Sumerlin Square, which is a shopping center, then ride a trolley for 50 cents each way. The trolley runs about every 40 minutes, and it has a bike rack on the front to carry my bike. That will cut a couple of miles in each direction and solve the issue of getting over the bridge. We'll see if that might work out and be a fun alternative. The trolley takes you all the way to the end of the beach, which is called "Lovers Key State Park" which is another nice destination and possible biking area.
Expenses today: Lunch $40.
Bruce
Today, I decide to spend a deluxe day at the Fort Myers Beach. I say "deluxe" because I decide to ride my bike all the way there and back, which is 9.3 miles each way, including the quarter mile San Carlos Boulevard bridge over to the key which has about a 10% grade going up before it reaches the middle. This is will be a major undertaking.
To add even a little more "deluxe," Carol calls me in the morning as I'm finishing breakfast and asks what I'm doing that day. I tell her about the beach, and she asks if she can join me, and I say sure, and we agree to meet at Pete's Time Out by the pier at around noon for lunch.
I head out around 11 a.m., figuring about an hour to get to the beach. I head southwest on McGregor Blvd. which eventually turns into San Carlos which takes you to the beach. It's very level, but McGregor is a busy main highway with many intersections, and even though you're up on the sidewalk, you are very close to the traffic and of course have to contend with all the driveways to homes and businesses, many of them "blind" so you do have to be careful. There is an alternate route of taking Sumerlin Ave. to San Carlos, and I may try that next time.
Anyway, I get over to the island and lash my bike to a palm tree not 50 feet from Pete's, and find a table and sit down and order a beer at about 12:10. Not bad timing, especially since I "walked" the bike over the San Carlos bridge in the pedestrian lane. Carol calls me in about 10 minutes on my cell and says she's on the island, but hasn't found a parking place yet.
She finally arrives about 12:45 and order a Bud, and I have another, along with a basket of deep fried Langostinos which is a featured appetizer today. We both order a grilled Mahi sandwich with fries and have a very nice lunch along with another Bud for each of us. That makes Bruce 3, Carol 2. We finish, then take a nice walk along the beach, and the pier, and finish up with a small vanilla cone at the Dairy Queen, which Carol says has been there forever.
It's getting on 3:30, and we must part because I have a 9.3 mile ride back. I decide to tackle the San Carlos bridge in the traffic lane. This is a bit of a gamble, because once you commit, you are not supposed to stop in the traffic lane. I supposed you hop over the barricade to the pedestrian lane and then lift your bike over, but how embarrassing would that be? So I decide to try it, and it just about did me in making it to the top of the bridge, pumping those bike pedals with all my might while standing up on the bike. But I made it, and I'm proud of myself. I don't think I've been in this good of shape in years. When I reach the other side, I cross over to the sidewalk and stop the bike and get off and catch my breath. By the time I finally get back to the condo, I am exhausted, sweaty, and sunburned. I hop into the shower for a nice long soak, and do myself up with Aloe gel afterward. I lay down on the couch in the living room and fall asleep.
I later get up, have a light supper, then head to bed. It's been a great day.
There is also another option to get to the beach. I can ride my bike as far as Sumerlin Square, which is a shopping center, then ride a trolley for 50 cents each way. The trolley runs about every 40 minutes, and it has a bike rack on the front to carry my bike. That will cut a couple of miles in each direction and solve the issue of getting over the bridge. We'll see if that might work out and be a fun alternative. The trolley takes you all the way to the end of the beach, which is called "Lovers Key State Park" which is another nice destination and possible biking area.
Expenses today: Lunch $40.
Bruce
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