Going Out With a Bang

Saturday March 24 - Wednesday March 28

Saturday-Sunday

As is my custom, I lay low on the weekend, reading, answering emails, and catching up on the blog. I start planning a "final week" here, filled with activities, some new, some old favorites. I continue my emailing and researching the "Long Island Sound" of rock music via my musician buddy, Grant Werner, and music historian Richard Arfin. Thanks to Youtube, there is a generous amount of clips showing the various bands:

The Rascals; Vanilla Fudge; The Hassles (with a very young Billy Joel playing the Hammond B3 organ); The Vagrants (with Leslie West on keys); The Rich Kids (with Richard Supa); The Illusion; and others. This sound became what was known as "The Long Island Sound" when these bands finally "hit" and promoters and agents started putting them on tour, and recording them and so forth. The early videos are grainy and kind of "raw," but you can see the early influence of the B3 as a "rock" instrument that would later be taken seriously by more "mainstream" rock bands like Carlos Santana,  Three Dog Night, and many others. I can't say that this early style of organ playing is my thing. It's rough, and primitive, and consists of a lot of chord pounding and switching the Leslie back and forth to add the tremelo effect. I much prefer a little (or a lot!) of finger virtuosity, which would come later. The pure "Long Island Sound," is more of a "garage rock" style that many people like, but not this boy. Still, I would like to read Arfin's original series of articles, "Beaches, Bars, and B3s," and hopefully can find this in back issues of "Goldmine Magazine" (mid 1980s if the magazine is indexed). Incidentally, Arfin himself played B3 organ during this time in a band called "Spitball."

Expenses: McDonalds $5

Monday March 26

It's my last week here, so I am trying to cram as much as I can into these final days. I am debating whether to go shopping today at Miromar Outlet, and also Dixie Grocery Liquidator. But as I'm reading emails, I get one from (landlord) Heather, and she says she is working at the Casa Ybel resort today, and the only other day she works is Friday, so I decide to change my plans and head over to Sanibel Island for the day in the hopes of scoring more free beer!

I cook breakfast at home today, so I'll miss a final breakfast at the Island Cow, but that is OK because I'm going to splurge for lunch at Casa Ybel with another order of those delicious seared Ahi tuna tacos. I arrived on the island at about 11 a.m., and my first stop is Billy's to pick up a rental. I spot the owner, Billy, and so re-introduce myself and tell him that I gave him five stars on tripadvisor.com. He shakes my hand and thanks me, then calls over to one of his workers to, "Prepare a bicycle for this gentleman. He's a VIP." I like the sound of that. I get a very nice deluxe aluminum frame cruiser with shock mounts and a nice big fat cushiony seat for my bony rear end.

My first stop is Dolce Tesoro for some good coffee and a slice of pumpkin chocolate chip bread, which normally wouldn't be my choice, but that the little girl behind the counter informs me that it has just come out of the oven, and I'm a sucker for that. It runs me $6, which again reminds me of how paradise often comes with a heavy price tag. The bread is OK, but there's something just fundamentally wrong with mixing pumpkin and chocolate.

I linger at Dolce until about 12:45, then head over on the bike to Casa Ybel. There is definitely some wind today, but it's coming at my back for the first half of the day, and it's an absolutely gorgeous day, with low 80s and low humidity  This is what the weather is supposed to be like every day year during a "normal" winter, but it's been unseasonable warm/humid here this winter to the point that even the "locals" have been complaining.

I arrive at Casa Ybel, and the place is jumping. I know it's high season and all, but I thought Monday would be a little more relaxed. Heather and I exchange hellos, but I see she is quite busy. We are able to confirm Saturday between 9 and 10 a.m. for a final walk through the condo to make sure everything is "clean enough" when I clean the condo on Friday.

She pours me a 12 ounce Shock Top, and I read "Hannibal," by Thomas Harris, as I take in the lovely scenery and tropical breezes. In about a half hour, I put in my order for the tacos, and Heather pours me another beer. Tacos arrive, and they are delicious; just as tasty and fresh as the first time. I continue to read, and exchange the occasional pleasantry with Heather. When the bill arrives, there's a $6.75 beverage charge, so while I didn't the beer for free, I think Heather "fudged" the bar tab a bit; maybe her manager was on duty or something, or maybe her "hospitality tank" is nearing empty, I don't know. But in any event, the food and atmosphere are terrific, and this certainly isn't the worse way to pass an afternoon!



It's a long ride back to Billy's, and now the wind is at my face, so I get a pretty darned good workout. After I get the bike returned, I am not all that hungry and decide to just fight the "off-island" traffic rather than spend money on a dinner that I probably won't savor all that much. As I drive back from the condo, I decide I want a steak for dinner, and so stop at the Walmart and buy a slab of top sirloin and a potato for baking.

I have a fun phone conversation with Dawn about plans for starting my journey home on Sunday. I have emailed her to tell her that I plan to make for Macon, Georgia, on the first night rather than Atlanta. The reason for this is that my watch buddy, Dan, from Atlanta, will be out of town and unavailable for trading watches, so there is no sense stressing myself an extra 70 miles on top of 500, especially traveling with the kitties. So I have booked a room at a Motel 6 in Macon. Dawn jokes with me that she's not sure that Macon is yet desegregated, and that I might have to book an extra room because Abby is a dark kitty and might not be able to share the same room with a white man and white kitty.

After that, I watch a couple of episodes of Pawn Stars on the History Channel. I forego a workout tonight because I feel I have worked out plenty with all the biking I have done today.

I am having an interesting email exchange with a woman on match.com right now, who for now I will simply call Mary. She is ... and hold on to your hats folks ... a pastor at a Lutheran church in Southwestern Wisconsin. We have already determined we are not "destined" for one another, but each of us agrees the other is a nice, decent person, and since good friends are often as hard to find as good mates, we decide to correspond. It's a bit surreal to say the least. But we have decided that it would be fun to meet, if for no other reason to compare notes on the more secular aspects of our lives, in which we seem to have some things in common.

It's been a great day today, and I am really tired, so I only catch a couple of Pawn Star episodes, and then head off to bed at 11 p.m. and fall quickly asleep.

Expenses: lunch $24; groceries, $11. Total $35

Tuesday March 27

Today will be my final beach day at Fort Myers Beach, so invite my friend, Carol, to join me. I bring my swim suit and goggles today, and plan to swim in the Gulf for the first time since I have been here. My previous trips to the beach, it has either been too cold, or the water too choppy, or both. But today looks like a perfect weather day, if a little windy (again).

The bike ride along Summerlin Road is pleasant enough, with the wind at my back. But of course this means I'll be peddling into the wind on the way back! I arrive at the beach about 11:30 and stake out a table with an umbrella at the Top O' Mast and order up a bottle of Bud, which I insulate in my new Green Bay Packers beer koozie. I continue reading "Hannibal," getting up to about page 120 before Carol joins me at about 12:30. We order up a veggie thin-crust pizza from the "runner waitress" who works at La Ona across the courtyard. Carol dives into it like a hungry vulture. I swear the only time this woman eats actual food is when we go out and I treat!

After lunch, we decide it's "now or never" as far as swimming, because it looks like a big cloud bank is moving in. Gust of wind are coming up with such intensity that one of the gust completely lifts the umbrella from our table and sends it careening across the deck, hitting one fellow (not seriously) and barely missing a couple of other people. The manager now orders "all umbrellas down" and we must now move out to the beach and rent two chairs and an umbrella which is anchored into the sand (cost: $15).

I go into the men's room at Top O' Mast and change into my swimsuit. Carol has hers on already underneath her slacks and top. So in the water we go, me with my eye goggles because the salt water kind of irritates my eyes. Carol kind of splashes around, going in up to her chest level, but refuses to submerge because of messing up her hair and the makeup job on her face. I go for full immersion because I have neither hairdo nor makeup to worry about, and swim all the way to the marker buoys, about 200 feet from shore, and I estimate the water depth is about 10 feet at that point. It was a nice refreshing swim, and the waves weren't too bad. I made my way back to shore; Carol wants to stay and splash a while longer. I get back to the beach lounges and immediately order up a Bud to get the salt taste off my lips and mouth. Eyes are doing OK thanks to the goggles.

Carol joins me shortly, and we continue our conversation. The DJ suddenly cues up "Baby You Can Leave Your Hat On," by Joe Cocker, and suddenly Carol is up and dancing, so I join her for a quick spin on the sand, and this is very much fun. The generous breeze soon dries out my skin and swim trunks, and I apply another coat of sunscreen, though I can feel that I am burned, despite the initial coating of sunscreen and the semi protection of the umbrella. The sun is a relentless bitch out here. With all the sand and water to reflect the rays, there is simply no escaping her!

I change back into my regular shorts, and we decide to pull up stakes about 4:30, and stop at the Dairy Queen by the pier for a treat. They are having a sale on "Blizzards" during the entire month of March. Buy one at regular price, and get the second for 99 cents. But I absolutely cannot convince Carol to have one because of the carbs. She insists on a small vanilla cone, so the bill is more than needs be, but it's all part of the admission price if you're going to play the dating game.

We walk over the San Carlos bridge together, because she has her car parked on the other side at a free lot. And then we part company. Carol informs me she has jury duty on Friday, and that if she is not picked for duty, she may play "hookie" from work that night because she hasn't had a Friday night off in two years. If that happens, she asks, would I be interested in going out for drinks, music, and dancing that night? Fred Astaire I am not, but how can I deny this woman, who loves to dance and who hasn't a Friday night off since gas was last $3 a gallon, the chance to have a little fun? So I tell her to keep me informed and if indeed she chooses not to work, I will go out with her and give it my best shot.

We part at the bridge, and I begin peddling home along Summerlin Ave., against the wind now. It is tough sledding, but I finally make it back to the condo, a mass of sweat and sunscreen. My ass is completely sore, and I have completely sweated through my shorts, making it looks as though I have totally wet myself. And despite the sunscreen and trying to stay in the shade, I am noticeably burned on my neck, shoulders and chest. Not terribly, but I can feel it. I am glad to have bought a bottle of aloe gel early in my journey here. It feels good, and takes away most of the sting.

I decide to use up some chicken breast from the freezer which I have portioned into four-ounce servings, and so make a quick run to Walmart for a frozen pasta Alfredo dinner entree for a buck. I also pick up one of those Bumblebee tuna salad lunch kits for the gambling cruise tomorrow, and mysteriously the price has increased on that in in last week from $1 to $1.29, an increase of 29 percent. Does anyone else but me notice that Walmart (and I assume other retailers) are constantly fucking with the price tags? I swear to God they have clerks roaming the aisles every night with their little barcode guns and stacks of new bar code strips. I realize it's only pennies or nickels per item, but cumulatively it adds into the millions and, I suppose, helps offset the items that the store decides will be "on sale" that particular week. It's just another reason why, when I leave Walmart, I kind of almost feel I need a shower. Shopping there is all part of a slimy game of smoke-and-mirrors, and they are masters at it.

Back at the condo, I simply add the frozen chicken chunks to the dinner while it is microwaving and ... Voila! ... I now have a fairly passable chicken pasta Alfredo for a buck! I eat this while watching the new episode of Biggest Loser, and it is a pretty good episode tonight, and even manages to make me tear up in a couple of spots. For dessert, I have a version of strawberry shortcake, using a slice of pound cake, some thawed berries from the freezer, and some vanilla ice cream.

Again, no workout this evening as I feel pushed to the limit! I don't know that I'm going to make my goal of 220 pounds by the time I head home, but I'll be close --- within 7 or 8 pounds, and God knows I've been working my ass off while here during my stay between the gym workouts and all the biking. The "problem" is that the food down here has been so good, and I've been partaking with gusto!

I have another email from "Mary," the Lutheran pastor, so I reply out of courtesy, but tell her that I'm pretty tired, and sunburned on top of it, and need to go to bed. I put on a final coat of aloe gel, and head off to bed and doze off pretty quickly. It's back to Fort Myers beach by bike again tomorrow, as I am doing a final "Big M Casino Cruise." I joked with Carol that I should have just booked a night at a beach hotel and stayed there, except I know that it would have run me probably a couple hundred bucks for anything decent! And the bike ride provides a good workout.

Expenses: Beach food and drink: $20; chair/umbrella rental $15, groceries $1; total: $36

Wednesday March 28

Today is my final "Big M Gambling" cruise. I have made reservations. I rise at 7:15, and this morning I change out the kitty litter for what will be the last time here. I skip coffee and breakfast, and just take my morning meds, and pedal as fast as I can to "Marti's" for my reward of caffeine and a morning feast of 2 eggs, sausage, home fries, and whole wheat toast. I pedal the rest of the way to Fort Myers Beach. I walk the bike up the incline of the San Carlos bridge, but when reach the apex, I lift my bike up and over the concrete barrier, then scoot over the barrier myself. I am now in the "live traffic" lane for bikes, with the traffic coming toward me. It's a little scary, but perfectly legal. So I mount the bike and zoom down the other side to Fort Myers Beach, and then over to the boat dock. I have my "coopen" with me, and so get the cruise for the bargain price of $5. Again, it is an absolutely beautiful day.

I board the boat at 9:45, and we leave the dock promptly at 10:30. I use the time to catch up on the blog, and to read a couple of sample chapters I have downloaded onto my Kindle. One is a nonfiction book called "The End of Money," which I found out about from a recent episode of CBS Sunday Morning. The other is a sample chapter of "The Hunger Games," which is not my usual genre (post apocalyptic sci-fi, and juvey lit at that) but I have to at least sample it and find out what the hub-bub is all about. Both samples are excellent, and I will probably end up buying both books.

The casino opens at about 11:45 once we reach international waters. My $50 stake lasts about an hour, but then I put my tail between my legs and leave the table with one pink $2.50 chip left, so I am out $47.50. But our dealer, Joshua, is a very nice fellow, and he was the dealer on the previous cruise where I won $32.50. So it's all in good fun.

At about 1 p.m., I eat my lunch I have brought on board of a tuna salad lunch kit and a Nature Valley protein bar. I spring for a diet Coke for a buck to go with my tuna salad, and have a free cup of coffee to go with my bar. This will hold me until I treat myself to stone crab tonight at "Pincher's Crab Shack." This will be my last stone crab dinner for a while, and I will truly miss this until my next trip down here. As I've said before in this blog, I think stone crab is my favorite treasure of the sea, surpassing even lobster.

I take Summerlin Road the rest of the way back to the condo, and have a fairly quiet night of reading, surfing, and watching a little TV. I think I really lucked out with the condo in terms of having a quiet neighbor next to me. I head to bed. Tomorrow will be shopping day.

Expenses: gambling $47.50; Coke $1; dinner $30. Total $78.50

Bruce

My Last Farmers Market

Friday March 23

I rise and pedal my bike to what will be my last Farmers market at Lake Park. I have a bran muffin, coffee, and a pint container of strawberries. All very delicious. I hook up on last time with my musician buddy, Grant, for whom this is his final performance, and he and wife (who sells soap at the market) will be heading back to the Hamptons on Long Island. I don't buy any produce at the market today, because I don't think I will finish it in time for my departure.

I bike back to the condo, then set out for the Fleamasters Flea Market. Mostly to give Randy, the bike dealer, a "heads up" that I'll be bringing my bicycle back next Friday, so that he will be sure to have $50 with him to pay me back half the purchase price of the bike. He remembers the bike, the Murray "Westport," and says it will be no problem, in fact he will be happy to have the bike back, as he has a particular fondness for vintage Murray bikes. I also check with Chris, the watch dealer (he has nothing new) and also Chris, the bookseller, to see if he has a copy of Eric Larson's "In the Garden of Beasts," but it's too new for him to have at this point.

I also buy a cheap pair of binoculars for $2 from a dealer there who just has a whole bunch of "stuff" in her booth. My friend, Carol, has been talking about possibly going out on a "nature outing" for some sort for our final date, possibly even an "eco-Tour" of the Everglades. An "eco-tour" is a tour of the 'Glades minus the popular airboat that everyone thinks of. An airboat is really not an environmentally friendly way to tour the Everglades. It's so loud, that the boat scares off everything you might want to see, with the exception of the alligators, who apparently aren't afraid of much of anything. If you want to see birds, mammals, and any chance of seeing a Florida panther, a much quieter mode of transportation is required ... a shallow bottom boat with a small (even electric) motor, or even kayak. The only problem with the eco-tour is that they are kind of expensive -- in the $200 range -- and I don't know if Carol can afford that or not. But we are also talking about a couple of other nature tours, including the "Corkscrew Swamp Sanctuary," which is by Bonita Springs (a little south of Fort Myers) and run by the Audubon Society and is (obviously) a bird sanctuary more than anything else. I'll need a pair of binoculars regardless of where we go, if I have any hopes of seeing anything. The pair I get is basically one level up from a kid's toy, but they will do the job and they are disposable.

I have lunch at the German lady's food booth where they have the milk, only this time I order a full lunch of a ham-n-cheese quiche with a small side salad and hunk of brown bread. It is all very delicious.

I also stop by the booth that sells specialty games and buy a deluxe Scrabble game that I am anxious to take home and try with my family and also my friend Amy who plays Scrabble.  I try to use my Chase Visa credit card, and the purchase is declined, so it appears Chase has made it's decision as to whether I am creditworthy enough to assume responsibility for the credit card which has been in Gwen's name since the beginning. And the answer is no. So now I will have to open a secured credit card when I get back to Wisconsin. I hate having to put $2K of my own money into a non-interest-bearing account to secure a credit card, but I absolutely cannot be without a credit card for travel. Car rental companies won't take them for renting a car, and there are other instances where you are better off using a credit rather than a debit card because you have more dispute privileges with a credit card.

Back at the condo,I get a nice email from Richard Arfin from the Long Island Music Hall of Fame, with regard to my "Beaches Bars and B3s" query. Turns out this was a series of articles he wrote for "Goldmine" magazine about the particular band sound that was coming out of Long Island in the 1960s. It was was kind of splintered, "garage rock" effort that coalesced and finally "hit" and was promoted up into the '70s, and included bands like Vanilla Fudge, the Rascals, the Vagrants, and the Hassles, which included a little known keyboardist at the time by the name of Billy Joel, who played a B3 organ (but who didn't know how to play the pedals) who of course later returned to his native instrument, the piano, and rest, as they say, is history. Arfin's articles were eventually combined into one article that ran in Rolling Stone magazine about the "Long Island Sound," which the LI Music Hall of Fame is now seeking to promote and preserve. Anyway, I make a few passes through Youtube and watch/listen, and I don't think this is my "thing," I think this one of those types of music you either really love or hate. It's sounds like raw, "garage rock" music to me, and much of the organ sound is just heavy handed chording with switching the Leslie speaker on and off for tremelo effect. There is very little finger virtuosity going on, in the style of "jazz-rock" organ, ala "Green Eyed Lady" and so forth, of the kind of organ playing I prefer. But it was a good effort, and it was certainly fun seeing Billy Joel when he must have still been a teenager! I'd still like to read Arfin's original articles if I can find them. "Goldmne" magazine is still in business, by the way, and I'm sure back issues can be referenced somehow. Arfin also tells me his articles may be brought back to the website at some point. Arfin himself was a Hammond B3 organ player for a LI rock band called "Spitball." He remembers those days fondly, but writes "One thing I distinctly remember was having to transport that motherfucker and the Leslie to gigs. I don't miss that."

So of course I cc my buddy Grant on all this, and he is very interested and wants to stay in touch.

Expenses: breakfast $6, lunch $8; Scrabble game $41. Total: $55

Bruce