Here are some highlights from the previous week.
Thursday April 9. I joined the widows and widowers social group at “Komoon” restaurant in Bonita Springs. There were about 16 of us. The menu is Japanese (full sushi bar), Thai, and Peruvian. Go figure that one. I had a Mojito made with Sake wine because the restaurant doesn’t have a license for hard liquor. It was surprisingly good. For my meal, I started with a sampler plate of sushi, beautifully prepared:
then for the main course a green curry made with chicken. Everything was delicious and the bill came to about $30. After dinner, we were treated to music by “El Gato Solea,” which means “The (Something) Cat.” Here is a picture of them:
I can find no translation for “Solea,” but I suspect it has something to do with “sun” (Sol). They were a foursome, with two guitarists (both from Uruguay), bass (from New Jersey) and percussionist (from Israel). They did a mix of Latin and Spanish (flamenco style) music, with occasional vocals. The lead guitar guy was fabulous, and really got caught up in his music. At times, his girlfriend/groupie, “Shelly,” a gorgeous redhead, would do a little “bump and grind” to the music and dance with said boyfriend as he plucked guitar, leading the guys at our table to speculate there would probably a different type of plucking going on later in the evening. The guy had a wireless amp transmitter plugged into his guitar, so he would also wander the restaurant at times and flirt with the female customers while he played. It was all very good, and considering there was no cover charge to listen to the band (other than buying your meal and drinks) it was quite the bargain. I got back to the apartment about 9 p.m. from that.
Friday April 10. Busy day today. Biked to the Lakes Park farmer’s market. My favorite “Bagel Lady” was absent, perhaps departing for Maine (home base), so I had to find an alternate to my usual bagel breakfast sandwich and settled for two Danish, one cherry and one cream cheese, and slapping them on top of one another to made a “Danish sandwich.” A pint of fresh strawberries (end of season, I’m afraid) and a cup of coffee completed my breakfast. The bicycle group arrived, and the main topic was (Kenosha) Glen’s purchase of a brand new flaming red Dodge Charger ($33,000) which he had pictures of on his cell phone, and was passing his phone around for everyone to see like he was a proud papa or something. It was already 80+ degrees by the time I biked back home, so it took a while to cool down. Eventually made it to the flea market in the afternoon to see Chris the Book Guy and return a copy of “Too Much Stuff,” a mystery/thriller by local author Don Bruns, about a couple of bumbling private investigators who attempt to find $40 million in gold lost in the Florida keys during the infamous hurricane of 1935 that killed an estimated 500 people and, in five minutes, took down Henry Flagler’s trans-gulf railway from the mainland to Key West. Also tried to find a copy of Tim Dorsey’s “Florida Road Kill” to give to my friend Gene Johnson (who I am visiting on Sunday), but no luck. Completed my visit to Fleamasters with lunch at “Taste of Maine,” where I had a fried clam platter.
That evening, the widows and widowers group met at the Laugh In Comedy Café, located on College Parkway, just ½ mile from my apartment. They have a discotheque on one side of the establishment, so we met early and ate and did a little socializing, and even a little dancing. At about 7 p.m., they opened the doors to the comedy club, and our group filed with complimentary tickets by virtue of our group’s purchase of food and beverage. We sat a long table, a few rows back from the stage. At 7:30, the warm-up guy came out, and he got a few chuckles, but mostly sucked, I’m afraid. Then came the two headliners, first a “Tonya Kay,” from Texas, and then D.C. Malone, from Portland, Ore.:
Both were very funny. Certainly “R” rated, and maybe even a little more at times. Tonya, an archetypal cougar, spent quite a bit of time talking about female genitalia in general, and hers in particular, which she referred to as her “hoo-ha.” In one bit, she told us her maturing vag had not only gotten looser, but had developed a “double chin” on either side, and she was thinking of hanging small signs on either side of her orifice to amuse her various lovers, one reading “Now Entering Texas,” and the other reading “Welcome to the Grand Canyon.” Maybe you had to be there. The other comedian cracked jokes about his Irish heritage, and he did many of his jokes with an Irish brogue, which had us in stitches. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, too, and told us about performances he has done to entertain U.S. troops in Iraq, Afghanistan and other places containing resources vital to American interests. All in all, a very funny night. Laughter is indeed the best medicine, though I suspect the comedy was a little too raw for some in our group.
Sunday April 12. I left Fort Myers about 9:30 a.m. for a return trip to St. Pete, this time to visit with my good friend and ex-CUNA boss Gene Johnson and his wife, Pegg. Turns out they’ve been vacationing for six weeks at a motel on Reddington Beach, and were there during my March visit to St. Pete, and in fact I was less than five miles from them on the day I was at Madiera Beach. Who knew? Anyway, I thought it was worth a return visit. Was hoping to touch base with a couple of business contacts while there also, but this did not come to pass. I arrived at their motel, the Malibu Beach Resort Motel, at about noon. We chatted for a while, then Gene and I went for a walk along the beach
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| WARNING: WHITE BOY ON THE BEACH. Those are my shoes and socks draped over my shoulder |
while Pegg rested (she was suffering from a major sinus infection, poor thing). When we returned at about 2:30, I checked into my room, changed into my swimsuit. Before diving into the pool, I ordered some appetizers from a Cuban restaurant attached to the motel, and asked they be delivered poolside to a table that Gene and Pegg had reserved. I went for a swim, then enjoyed my apps, some type of deep fried potato balls stuffed with a meat concoction in the middle, and a spicy sauce for dipping, and a diet Coke for beverage.
After getting showered and cleaned up, we went to dinner at a Bonefish Grill near the motel. One of Pegg’s shirt-tail cousins by the name of Joe Keith, joined us to make it a foursome. One of their specials that night was a small cold water lobster tail, served with a salad, choice of starch, sugar snap peas, and an included dessert of homemade beignets with dipping sauces (chocolate and caramel), all for $19.95. I asked if, for an up-charge, they would slap a hunk of Chilean sea bass on the plate, making a sort of “fisherman’s platter” out of it, but “no-go” on that unless I basically paid the price of an entire sea bass dinner. Anyway, there was plenty to eat, as Joe got us an order of “bang-bang shrimp" as an appetizer. Joe is quite an interesting character, having made a fortune in the early days of IBM mainframe computers. He founded a company that made a controller board which allowed the mainframes to be compatible with a generic printer that cost a mere $29,000 as opposed to IBM’s proprietary printer that cost $90,000. Can you imagine a printer that cost $90K? Anyway, Joe’s controller board sold like hotcakes, and at one point he had 200 employees selling them all over the world. The high life, a costly divorce, and sending a couple kids through college drained much of his fortune, but he still lives in relative comfort in a nice beach front condo. Anyway, he enjoys his share of spirits, and the two of us got talking about bourbon, and I told him I preferred Maker’s Mark, to which he replied he wouldn’t wash his feet in it, and asked if I wanted to sample his favorite brand, Booker Noe, which I had never heard of. “It’s pretty reasonably priced,” he told me, at about $70 a bottle. He treated me to a snifter. At between 120 and 130 proof (depending on the batch) it’s about half again as strong as Maker’s, and the first sip caught me off guard, and my little coughing spasm caused everyone in our party to have a good laugh. But I finished the rest no problem, and it was delicious, though I don’t know I’ll be switching any time soon! Here's a photo of our group:
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| Clockwise from lower left: Gene Johnson, Pegg Johnson, Bruce, Joe Keith |
I slept well that night, setting the thermostat on the window A/C unit to “meat locker” and sliding beneath the covers and falling almost instantly to sleep.
Monday April 13. I woke about 7:30, slipped into my clothes, and went for a solo beach walk for about ¼ mile and back. After that, I joined Gene and Pegg for a light breakfast that Gene prepared for me, while Pegg went off for a hair appointment. Gene and I chatted some more about our days at CUNA and various other topics. I checked out of my room and hit the road about 10:30 a.m. Arrived back at the Ft. Myers apartment about 1 p.m. and took a giant nap.
Tuesday April 14: After the ship pulled back into port, I drove to Bonita Springs to hook up with the widow and widowers group. It's "dinner and a movie" night tonight, and the host chose Carabba's Italian Grill as our dining spot. Not my favorite restaurant, but my combo meal of lobster ravioli and 6 ounce sirloin (surf and turf) was not too back, and one of the ladies from the group and myself shared a luscious chocolate dessert. Afterward, we went to the movie "Danny Collins" starring Al Pacino. The movie was very good, and there was even a cameo scene by Nick Offerman (Ron Swanson from the "Parks the Recreation" TV show, who even did his signature silly laugh on screen). After the movie, we had ice at the "Green Ice Cream Co.," next door to the theater, and I drove home after that. Stopped at the Wal Mart Neighborhood Market and got some cough syrup, and took a dose of that with a shot of booze to make my own homemade "Nyquill," but still have a devil of a time going to sleep.
That brings you up to date.
Bruce
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