Journal Entries
The World is Yours
Posted Dec 5, 2006
Destin, Florida - December 5, 2006
Tony: "Me, I want what's coming to me."
Chico: ""What's coming to you?"
Tony: "The world, Chico, and everything in it."
-Tony Montana
We are moving west and stop at Destin on the beach between Panama City and Fort Walton Beach. I’ve driven back and forth on 200 mile beach road between Tallahassee and Pensacola dozens of times over the past 40 years.
At first there were a few fishing villages and a handful of sleazy motels on the beach.
The growth lately seems exponential. There are ten story condos lining the beach in both directions. The sleepy two-lane road is now a clogged six-lane and there are two factory outlet malls within walking distance.
Still, even with all the growth, the wide white sand beaches and brilliant blue water are beautiful.
Pictures @ http://thefirecloudreport.blogspot.com/
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Latest reply: Dec 5, 2006
On the Beach
Posted Dec 4, 2006
Saint Joseph‘s Peninsula State Park, Florida – December 4, 2006
This park is on the “forgotten coast” of Florida’s panhandle. The uninhabited peninsula curves nearly 30 miles into the Gulf of Mexico. The last ten miles are white sand dunes, pines, beach and marsh. Shells litter the beach.
I’m trying to detox. It’s been four days since I’ve had any tobacco or alcohol. To compensate, we hang out here and take long walks on the beach. The beach stretches a long way.
Quitting is easy. I’ve done it hundreds of times. The hard part is not starting again.
At 5 AM yesterday morning the fullish moon sank into the Gulf to the west. I took the tripod to the beach and got some interesting moonset shots.
The nearest town to the east is Apalachicola. It’s always been a small commercial fishing village. We went to a small fish market and bought flounder for dinner yesterday. The flounder was very fresh and very good.
To the west is the town of St. Joe and its paper mills. The town smells bad but it has a tennis court which is empty. All the cars are parked at the churches. I lost 6-1, 6-0. It’s nice to be able to wrap my hand around the racquet easily once again after the operation for the Dupuytren’s contracture last month.
I put on my old fins and have a long swim before dinner. It’s not uncomfortable, but I prefer warmer water.
This is the home of the endangered St. Andrews beach mouse. Some 240 species of migratory seabirds have been identified here and the wildflowers provide food for the amazing migrating Monarch butterfly.
Here's the long version of the beach pictures... http://good-times.webshots.com/slideshow?ID=556216071&key=hEPMuu
..and the short version... http://thefirecloudreport.blogspot.com/
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Latest reply: Dec 4, 2006
Gator Grabs Naked Crack-Smoker
Posted Nov 29, 2006
Lakeland, Florida -November 29, 2006
For reasons not yet fully understood, a naked 45 year-old man who had been smoking crack wandered into a swampy area near Lakeland at 4 AM last evening.
He was grabbed by a 12 foot, 500 pound aligator. Deputies wrestled him away from the gator, but not before the gator took a last grip on his buttocks.
The man lost a portion of his left arm in the attack and the gator has since been captured and euthanized, in accordance with State of Florida policy.
There are two excellent writers who formerly had crime beats on major Florida newspapers and who recognized that the absurd happenings in this State created a rich opportunity for a novelist to write humorous novels about murder and roadkill.
One is Tim Dorsey, formerly of the Tampa Tribune and the other is Carl Haissen of the Miami Herald. Each of these former reporters have a half-dozen excellent novels to their credit, all based in a Florida setting and chock-full of dark absurdities loosely based on real life.
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Latest reply: Nov 29, 2006
Limberneck
Posted Nov 28, 2006
Myakka River State Park, Florida – 27 November, 2006
We spent the night in the park. I woke up at 1:30 AM. There are no cell broadband signals here so I finished the new Stephen King “Cell” paperback.
We drove to Myakka Lake before dawn and set up the camera and tripod. Hundreds or thousands of raptors flock back and forth, landing in the treetops. I think they are rare ospreys until daylight breaks and I realize they are turkey vultures.
Here are a few picture of deer, gators and turkey vultures.
http://good-times.webshots.com/slideshow?ID=556082860
In the 1960’s I worked at Florida State University with Dr. Pate, who had an Army grant contract to study turkey vultures. She would pay “good ole boys” $75 for a turkey vulture. Her study involved injecting increasing amounts of botulism into the vultures until they developed what she called “limberneck” and died.
There are many tiny Florida deer, hogs and gators here. It’s nice that they have preserved a few square miles of Florida. Most of the state is now condos, parking lots and interstate highways.
The State park has rental canoes and bicycles as well as airboat “barges” capable of carrying 30 tourists.
When I was young we lived on a lake where the gators ate our dogs and ducks. Rattlesnakes crawled into the yard. We gathered burlap bags of oysters from Tampa Bay. The wild places were just next door.
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Latest reply: Nov 28, 2006
Joe’s Stone Crab
Posted Nov 28, 2006
South Beach, Miami – 25 November, 2006\
We are staying at a place called Paradise Island RV Park in Fort Lauderdale. They have crammed into the maximum number of RVs in the space available. I estimate that about half the occupants live here full time and work. There is a mix of bikers, Haitian and Hispanic immigrants and others who need a cheap place to live. The transients, like us, have trailers, 5th wheels and motor homes. License plates are from Quebec, Michigan and South Dakota. They are all well-behaved, respectful of quiet hours. A wave is in order if you walk past someone’s home.
We call our old friend on the cell phone just before arriving at her Miami Beach condo. She says she will meet us downstairs.
The young man guarding the gate is a Haitian. He wants an apartment number before he will open the gate. We can see Norma standing outside waiting for us. We don’t’ have the number. We try to explain that we are picking up our old friend who is 85 and that she is waiting for us. We tell him,” Look, there she is!” He’s not having any of it. I put on my serious authority face and get out of the car to explain the situation to him more slowly and loudly. He retreats into the guard shack and asks again for her telephone number. I explain loudly explain again that she is standing in the parking lot.
Mrs. Phred gets out of the car and runs around the gate yelling "Norma!" and waving. The young guard gives up and opens the gate for me.
Norma is dressed in a nice top and see though pantyhose. We take her back upstairs to find some pants to round out the outfit. I’m a concerned that she might have deteriorated since we last saw her.
We know Joe’s Stone Crab is on the beach somewhere so we drive south. We have a 4:45 reservation. Norma has forgotten where Joe’s is located. She gave up driving over ten years ago so this is not that surprising.
We roll down a window and ask a taxi driver next to us. He says “its south on Washington”. We cut over to Washington and find Joe’s just before the big channel that the cruise ships use. We see a fifteen story cruise ship appearing to sail across the street two blocks south.
In conversation, our friend is as sharp and witty as ever. We sit in the outdoor patio and order drinks. She tells us stories about trips to Europe with Mrs. Phred’s mother. A turquoise and pink building towers overhead. There are pictures on the walls of bungalows typical of Miami in the late 1940s.
The Miami neon is unique. In this city, due to theft, the Burger Kings do not leave saltshakers out for the customers. I have not signed my credit card so I have to sign the check and send my driver’s license back to the cashier. On the drive back, the beach night scene is full of young people and expensive sport cars. This was our home once, but I feel displaced. The old camp survivors with numbered wrists that once lived here in numbers are gone, replaced by a new wave of immigrants and prosperity.
We take Norma back to her condo and go up to the tenth floor with her. The balcony overlooks the beach. The view is stunning. Her coffee table is covered with recently read books in some in German and French languages. We talk about her future plans, but she likes the weather here and has no plans to move in with family or assisted living. As we hug goodbye. I wonder if we will see her again and hope for the best for her.
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Latest reply: Nov 28, 2006
Phred Firecloud
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