A Repeat Of Charley's Aunt !

Tonight sees the last of the week long performances of the two plays (Charley's Aunt and Hiss The Villain) put on by the Buttonwood Bay "Theater In The Park" actors.

When I say actors, I use the word in its widest sense as these people are all seniors who often find themselves standing in the middle of WalMart with no clue why they are there. Myself included. Learning lines doesn't come easy and some have to get along by having their script glued to whatever prop is available, from a table surface to, in the case of those pretending to be ladies, their fans. Even this doesn't always go well as trying to read lines which are on the back of a wafting fan is an art none of them have really mastered.

It's all good fun and the audience laughs along as these actors are their friends and neighbours in the park so all is forgiven. And believe me, there is a LOT to forgive !

Being the theater photographer and videographer, I've watched these plays so many times (from initial practice through dress rehearsal and finally to the performances this week) that I feel I know all the lines myself. In fact at times I've stood in for 3 of the actors when they've not been able to make a rehearsal. But I couldn't do what they do. I can't remember lines to save my life so good on those who get up and volunteer. They may never be up for an Oscar but I for one admire their efforts and I'm always glad when I hear the positive comments from the audience afterwards. They love it all.

I've videoed every performance so that the best of the week can be copied to dvd to have as mementos for anyone who might want one. Lets just say that I've a basket load of eggs going into tonight's performance !

Last night though, we had a classic rendition of Charley's Aunt even by our own standards. The usual fluffed lines were fluffed, the usual unintentional pauses were paused and the usual giggles and laughter from the cast and (thankfully) the audience were forthcoming.

Then we had two 'incidents' that almost brought the house down, one of them literally. Let me set the scene....

Lord Babberley is on stage dressed as a woman, deciding if, as a woman, he'll be able to help out his two friends by playing the role of a chaperon so they can be with the two ladies they want to marry. The two friends are with 'her' on stage discussing if this ruse will indeed work and the two ladies are out walking backstage in the garden. Now the idea is that as soon as 'Babbs' says he's not going to do it as he feels ridiculous, the ladies enter, see 'her', and are delighted to have a chaperon as they fancy the friends anyway and wish to be with them.

Each enters the stage through a porch holding a small flower picked from the garden and they offer these flowers to Babbs while being presented to 'her' and then Babbs whispers to the male friends "what do I do with these flowers?" and one of them whispers back "put them in your pocket." At this point Babbs puts the small flowers into a pocket on 'her' shawl. Perfect.

Last night the cue line was said and we waited for the entrance of the two ladies (Amy and Kitty) from the garden. Kitty entered but there was no sign of Amy. We all waited and waited and the laughter from the audience was mixed with some laughter and a lot of confusion from the cast. Where was Amy ? I mean when all the cast are seniors, and often senior seniors, you just never know what may have happened off stage !

There is a window beside the garden entrance porch and there is a large bunch of plastic flowers on view behind this window to add to the impression that there IS a garden back there. Suddenly these flowers moved violently as if in a localised hurricane and my first thought was that Amy had caught her dress in the flowers as there isn't much room backstage. The violent flower rustling went on for some time without any sign of Amy, which was quite an achievement in itself.

Finally the flowers stopped moving and to much applause from the audience and relief from the rest of us, on came Amy...with a large bunch of flowers ! She told us later that she had dropped her one little flower as she was preparing to come on and it had gone where she couldn't get to it. Rather than arrive empty handed (which would've been ok as Kitty still had her flower to present) she thought she would just pluck a flower from the bunch by the window, not realising they weren't separate flowers. The violent shaking we saw was Amy trying her best to rip off one flower !!

So back on stage, we now have a situation where Kitty presents her single small flower to Babbs, followed by Amy who presents him, sorry her, with a bouquet worthy of a wedding ceremony. Ever the semi professional, Babbs still whispers 'her' question about what to do with these flowers and gets the same reply...to put them in 'her' pocket.

I think you can imagine the next scene ! Babbs struggles valiantly to put 'her' cuttings from Kew Gardens into a small pocket and as we could all clearly see, it wasn't going to work. We briefly lost sight of Babbs, 'her' face having been obscured by the flowers and thankfully the actor realised it was impossible and flung them on the stage, to much laughter from all present.

Later on, near the end, a line was said in the wrong place and a small chunk of script was therefore skipped. For some reason no one could get things back on track and they improvised by going back a few lines and trying to start again. That didn't work and disastrously as it turned out, it was tried again.....and again. One of the lines in this Groundhog Day version was "I've been cheated" and the actor saying it got into the mood of the occasion by adding 'again' when it came around the second time and then even adapting this to 'for the 3rd time' and 'for the 4th time.'

Worried that the play would now run into Friday, someone at last took the initiative and used a line BEYOND the part that was being repeated ad infinitum and suddenly the play moved along. By now the audience was in hysterics and the sounds of laughter mixed with rattling false teeth, clinking oxygen canisters and creaking walkers actually drowned out a lot of what followed. The cast could've been swapping peanut butter recipes for all we knew. It was a hoot.

When the cast lined up at the end for their bow, the applause and cheering was deafening and the audience would've been on its feet - if they could've managed it in time.

When Brandon Thomas wrote "Charley's Aunt" around 1892, it was described in theatrical parlance as a farce.

In Buttonwood Bay last night, it was certainly performed as such !! And much fun was had by all.

Red Alert !!

Never ever buy cinnamint toothpaste !

I love cinnamon and I love mint and so I thought that a combination of both would be a nice change to my toothpaste flavour after years of boring spearmint.

Well I tried it this morning and although the taste wasn't bad, when I spat the excess 'goop' out of my mouth and into the sink, I thought I was at best an extra in a cheap horror movie or at worst, I'd developed leprosy overnight.

When I rinsed, great blobs of red gel and red coloured liquid lined the bottom of the otherwise sparkling white sink and it was all I could do to resist checking that my gems were still in place and not crumbling to bits.

Yes I know the toothpaste was red BEFORE it went into my mouth but after 2 minutes of battery powered brushing, I guess I forgot. I remember a stripey toothpaste called Signal I think where it also left red glop in the sink but I'd not used that brand for decades. I'd also let the word 'mint' lull me into thinking if any colour came out of my mouth, it would be green.

Not that seeing a green tinted sink would've been a lot better this morning but somehow we associate red with blood (ok and tomatoes, and I guess Ferrari's, and of course fire engines, oh and cherries, stop signs, fire extinguishers, brake lights - sod it lots of things then) and when over a sink brushing your teeth, you really don't want to see great globs of 'bloody' stuff plopping into it.

And as for trying to rinse it away ! Ha ! The damn stuff has all the adhesive powers of super glue. You try and help it along towards the plughole and it smears like butter on toast and becomes three times as hard to shift. What the hell is IN this stuff and do my teeth now look like the sink, with flecks of red gel all over them ?

It was with some relief that I looked in the mirror, smiled and saw my normal chipped and uneven British teeth gleaming back in all their off white brilliance without a shred of red gel anywhere to be seen.

I don't need such stress first thing in the morning. Getting out of bed is enough for me these days. I usually say thanks to God for getting me through the night and giving me what I hope to be another day of life - so to suddenly see what looks like bits of me hitting the sink tends to make me think I didn't survive the night unscathed after all.

Oh I'll keep the toothpaste as I'm too tight to throw it away. I'll just pin a post-it to the bathroom mirror that says.............

"When rinsing, nothing that you see in the sink is a body part. Necessarily."

Still Half Full - Another Pixie Update

Quick Update : not sure yet if this is due to the injection and the pills, but she's much better now and we are cautiously optimistic that the 'green mile' scenario has been delayed for a while.

Yes she not quite herself and tends to bark from her bed rather than rush to the door, but when she is up and about, she's almost walking like she was before.

So thanks for all the good wishes and it's a classic case of so far, so good.

Oh and because of this Pixie situation, we scrapped plans to go to the State Fair so no pig racing photos just yet ! Sorry.

Pixie - A Dog's Story - Update.

28 months ago, I posted the story about 'our' little doggie here called Pixie and how she had basically blown a disc in her back, a common condition for miniature dachshunds, and needed surgery to give her any chance of survival.

A couple of days later, I published a follow up post to talk about her surgery which was a partial success and how she could now walk again but with a very pronounced hobble on her back legs as she hadn't got 100% movement in them - and never would.

Since then she's been a bundle of fun and joy and has adapted well to not being able to jump up on us or the furniture (a good thing anyway) and although 10 years old, seemed to have plenty of years left in her yet.

This morning when she was called to go potty, she took an age to get herself into an upright position and when she did finally slither off the side and onto the carpet, we could see that her right back leg was stiff and dragging, as if it wasn't part of her at all. She was picked up and taken outside to potty and when she was placed gently into her bed again, Deb and Dennis knew that although it had been discussed several times since the operation, a very unwanted decision was looming.

You see, the surgery and the weeks of medication and follow up vet visits back in October 2007 had cost a lot and the decision had already been made that depending on what happened, further surgeries would not be an option.

So Pixie was taken to the vet at 10:30 and I said my goodbyes to her at the house just in case.

The vet gave her a cortisone injection and some pills and we are to look for any improvement over the next couple of days but if there is none, well I'm afraid Pixie may be taking the next trip to the vet without a return ticket.

But, and this is despite supporting Leeds United for the last 40 years, I'm a glass have full type of person and will remain hopeful that we'll have our Pixie around for a while yet. She's not in pain and so any decision would be made on a 'quality of life' basis and those are never easy.

She'll stand in the middle of the room and want to turn round but although the spirit is willing, that's about all. Mr. Brain is sending "move it" signals to Mr Back Legs but those signals aren't getting beyond Mr. Butt. Oh a few still get to Mr. Left Leg but that's about it. Pixie just stands there with big bewildered eyes and wonders why she can't spin round easily to go back to her food bowl.

Watching her slowly moving in a straight line, or her attempt at a straight line, is like watching Kenneth Moore playing Douglas Bader in Reach For The Sky. It would be funny if it wasn't so heart achingly sad.

It's a bit of deja vu from 28 months ago and I'll end this post with the same thoughts as I did back then, namely that with fingers crossed, everything will turn out ok for the little girl.

Here is an optimistic photo I took of her (and Debby) just before she went to the vet this morning.

The State Of Things to Come

Well The Colts lost the Superbowl and I didn't make it out of bed for the last ever night time shuttle launch but hey, it was at 4:14am for crying out loud.

So not a good last 12 hrs.

But on the up side, I've just had 2.5 mugs of Amaretto flavoured coffee so I'm buzzed to the hilt and ready for another sunny Monday in hot and humid mid Florida.

Except that it's not hot and humid. More cool and......well just cool. And that's NOT cool at all. Not hip. Not funny. Whatever. Oh I know one shouldn't complain when Ice Age 4 has hit Washington DC and airlines are replacing their plane's wheels with skis but once again, this is Florida where it's supposed to be warm in February. It was 38F this morning, people !!

And it's all very well having 2 heated pools but you still have to get in and out of them.

(I may be losing the sympathy vote now so I'll quit the weather talk.)

Of course things could be worse. I mean I could be living in Washington for a start. I could own a Toyota. I could be French. I could have my life savings tied to the stock market. Oh crap, I do have that last one.

Well speaking of things financial, I've always got my state pension to look forward to in about 8 years time...maybe. I won't hold my breath although I HAVE big plans for when that particular boat comes in. Oh yes.

I think a round the world cruise will be on the cards and there are a lot of countries East of Bridlington that I'd like to visit. That should all be possible on the extra £70 a week or whatever I'm due to get. No worries.

On to other state related news (smooth transition or what !), and tomorrow we're going to the Florida State Fair and that'll be a first for me. I've never been to ANY state fair so as it includes events like pig racing, the Elvis impersonator nat'l finals, doggies of the wild west (no idea), bears in a pool (again....no idea), a boer goat judging contest and music from luminaries such as the Pleasant Family Old Time String Band (I believe the string in question could be taut between the top of a broom handle and an empty barrel) and Runa Pacha with her musical flutes (as opposed to....??), well it should be a fun day out.

I'll let you know how we get on and I think I may need BOTH my camera cards as one could be used up just covering the pig racing. How do they get them to race the course ?

Oreo cookies at the end, of course. Seems the pigs run like Usain Bold with swine flu to get to those little goodies so I may get to see some pigs 'fly' after all. And this being America, a few human spectators will probably join in for such a reward !

Now there's a thought. Food treats at the end of every Olympic sprint race !!

I'm telling you now, if they used jaffa cakes, I'd be British and possibly European champion for the 100 and 200 metres.

Any further than that and I'd never make it.

Even for a jaffa cake.

Italy Day 8 - 3rd September 2009

Day 8 in Italy saw us leaving the west coast resort of Viareggio behind and setting out on the long 200 mile drive north to Lake Como. I say 'long' because I'd planned a route that would mostly take us away from main roads and motorways so that we could enjoy the scenery over the various mountain passes that lay between us and the Italian lake district.

Of course this trip became even longer as this was the day we had the tyre blowout that thankfully only cost us time and inconvenience and not our lives. I wrote a detailed blog post about it at the time and so will try to avoid going over it all again here.

We hugged the coast road north for several miles before switching to the SS62 for the start of the climb north east towards Piacenza. The scenery was everything we'd hoped for and we made slow progress as we were stopping every few miles to get out of the car to take photos. Small hill towns abounded and made for spectacular images, set as they were on the.....hills. D'uh. Expressions like "room with a view" and "high rise apartment" sprang to mind.

It was lovely to be out in the countryside of rural Italy after the sightseeing days around Rome and then visiting crowded towns like Siena and Pisa. This was what I really wanted to experience and I can highly recommend SS62 if you want sights like the one above and this one of the typical countryside just north of the vineyards of Tuscany, at Cavazzola.

As you can see, we were heading for the mountains and roads that became switchbacks as they gained altitude. Then, around noon, SS62 finally brought us back 'into civilisation' and to a T junction with the main A1 autoroute - left towards Piacenza and Milan and right towards Parma and Bologna.


We turned left and at this point, we were able to make up time as we could go at 130kph.

And we did.

A short time later, on the outskirts of Piacenza, we had the blowout which totally shredded both the right rear tyre and our nerves at the same time. I put up a few photos of it all on that previously mentioned post but here is one taken by Stephen of Daphne and myself trying to be safe while waiting for the tow truck to arrive. Those concrete barriers were a Godsend.

Well actually she is the one trying to be safe. I'm the one posing in my florescent jacket and as you can see, we made sure we had the essentials out of the car - the phone, the GPS, a can of pop and......Daphne's sack, otherwise known as her handbag.

There were a few funny moments during this ordeal and a couple came about because it seems that in Italy, you stay inside your car when it's on the back of a rescue vehicle being driven to a garage. This is a bizarre enough experience for a passenger but even more so for a driver as the temptation is to want to turn the steering wheel at every corner ! And Stephen did.

Here is a photo of Stephen trying to start the engine of our car despite the fact that it's 5 ft off the ground and locked onto a tow truck that is about to set off.


I can skim over the next few hours as they too were detailed on that post I wrote back at the time. I can give an update however and it's a good news update. You see we finally did get a replacement car but as Budget had us get it from a different rental company in Piacenza, we were worried that Budget would charge us something for the tyre blowout damage (the lovely lady we phoned for help from the autoroute kept saying we'd have to pay for a new tyre) and that the new rental company would charge us something for the new agreement we'd taken out with them for the rest of the trip.

As it turned out, a week later we handed over the new car at the airport before our flight home, paid nothing more and have heard nothing since. Result.

Later that evening as we dined in a restaurant in Piacenza and looked back on a long, tiring day, we couldn't help but be glad that we were safe and sound and still able to think about the second half of the holiday. Como, Bellagio, Venice, Rimini, San Marino and Assisi all lay ahead but stories about those destinations are for another day.

Despite our close call, it had been a wonderful day and the memories of the scenery from Viareggio to Piacenza will live long in the memory.

Yes even mine !

More Food For Thought

Almost 2 weeks ago to the day, I told the exciting story of my very spartan Whopper and how I'd ordered one without pickle and mayo and they managed to give me one with nothing except the bun and the meat patty. I ended the post by saying I'd called the outlet and they'd taken my name and said they'd give me a 'free' Whopper the next time I called in.

Well today was that day and as we were out and about shopping at lunchtime, I called in.

I asked for the manageress, told her part of my story and she remembered it. She went and got some sort of incident book where she'd written down the details and after confirming my name, she said she'd fix me a Whopper. I asked if she could make it into a combo and I'd pay the difference but, as I thought, she said she'd fix me a combo but it was 'on the house.'

I do like American customer service.

While I was enjoying my free meal, an old couple (well fancy that in Sebring !! ) came in and the wife (I assume) sat at a corner booth while her hubby (another assumption) went to order. Mrs Wrinkly got out a James Patterson book so was obviously a refined woman with discerning taste. Mr. Wrinkly returned with 2 coffees and then Mrs. Wrinkley put down the book and from her bag got out a little napkin parcel containing a sandwich and a cookie.

I watched as she proceeded to nibble on the sandwich and drink her coffee. This was SO like watching my mum and dad from years ago as mum often took food into a cafe for them to eat while I'd order from the menu on the rare occasions we ate out. This was mostly due to us being poor but was also because they came from a generation that wasn't used to eating out and preferred to make their own meals. I'd be mortified in case we got 'caught' but like this old lady, mum would hide the food at her side and pass it out to herself and my dad when the staff weren't looking.

So I was taken back to those days and as both my mum and dad are now gone, the memories being raised by this little old lady passing the food in stages to her husband almost brought tears to my eyes. I was so lost in thought that I didn't realise I was staring and when I came to, I noticed the lady was looking right at me too. I smiled at her and she smiled back and then she put her finger to her lips and it was all I could do to not rush over and give her a big hug.

To avoid a scene and possible arrest, I stayed where I was and my smile just widened.

It had been a wet and miserable morning but just then the sun broke through the clouds and although I'd love to say that a beam of sunshine lit up their corner, it didn't need to.

I'd had a free meal and a lovely trip down memory lane. It's not a lane I frequent very often as when I try and walk along it, it tends to get foggy and fade away. So times like this are very precious to me.

Even though she died nearly 7 years ago and I'm now 57, I guess I still miss my mum.

Lest We Forget - Challenger 1986.

Exactly 24 years ago, at 11:38am EST on 28th January 1986, the space shuttle Challenger blew up 73 seconds into it launch from the KSC just up the road in Florida. All 7 astronauts on board were killed and as we know now, some were still alive after the explosion and may have been alive for most, if not all, of the descent before the crew section hit the water. Tragic.

In 10 days time, on Feb 7th at 4:39am EST, space shuttle Endeavour (STS-130) is due to blast off once again to supply parts to the International Space Station. There are 4 more launches due this year and when Discovery lifts of in mid September, it will be the end of an era as she will be part of the last planned shuttle mission.

As reusable workhorses, and despite 2 tragic accidents, the space shuttles have been a fantastic success story. If all the miles they have covered were laid end to end, they'd stretch all the way to the end and back !

Well, as you know, I hate those stupid comparisons. Stretch to the moon and back. Stretch 3 times around the world. I mean if you can't accept that 460,000 miles is quite a long way, I don't see how knowing that it's the distance of a return trip to the moon is going to suddenly make you realise that. I look up at the moon at night and it doesn't seem THAT far away so if anything, using that as an example of something 230,000 miles away is pretty crap.

And another thing, the distance to the moon varies from 225,622 miles to 252,088 miles thanks to its elliptical orbit around the Earth and also, no flight from terra firma to the lunar surface ever goes in a straight line as both are moving objects.

Jeez I thought yesterdays digression was bad but I'm at it again today ! Sorry.

So there are 2 shuttle launches due before I go back to England and although I'll be in bed when Endeavour takes off on Feb 7th, hopefully I'll get to see Discovery take off at a much more sensible time of 1:34pm EST on March 18th. It's such a luxury to be able to see it from the park here and even though this means getting in the golf cart and going to the park entrance to see it best, under ideal conditions, I COULD actually see it from my chair here in the house. Cool as that would be, I'll not be taking the chance of missing MY last launch and so I'll be out by the park entrance as usual.

The shuttle program, as with all space related programs, has had its fair share of critics over the years but no one can deny the guts needed to sit atop a potential bomb as the countdown approaches the 8 second mark and those main engines fire up. I still get nervous as my plane takes off so I just can't imagine how I'd feel strapped into my seat only a few inches from a massive tank of highly inflammable fuel that is about to be set on fire. A controlled fire of course but nevertheless, once that fuel is lit up, there is NO turning back.

So right now as I think about the 7 who died EXACTLY 24 years ago, I'm sure the crew of Endeavour are doing the same as they prepare for their launch.

And praying that in a few days time, they'll not go down in history for similar reasons.

Challenger Crew : RIP

A Half Time Report

Deb & Den are half way through their Caribbean cruise and as it happens, I'm at the half way point in my time in Florida this winter.

Yes it's hard to believe it but I've been here 88.5 days already, my life. They've all flown by in a haze of midnight drunken parties by the pool but as I've no memory left to speak of, I don't remember a thing about them ! Dammit. I think I had a good time and my expanded waistline tells me I at least had plenty to eat.

Speaking of things flying by, he says moving seamlessly to something totally different, when I left England way back at the end of October, my carry on case was bulging with enough drugs to qualify me as a Columbian mule. I take 6 a day to keep my heart ticking and so, with a few to spare in case I drop the occasional pill down the sink, I had 1,080 of those for a start. That's a lot to get past security at the airport, I can tell you. And although they don't weigh much, they take up a hellova lot of room in a carry on case - no, I'd never trust them in a checked case as if they went AWOL, so would my time in America.

Actually I've never been questioned about the amount of pills I bring here every trip. I think they are more interested in the layers of cables, little black boxes, batteries and other electronic crap that lie on top of them in my case. I have batteries and spare batteries for all my portable gear, including cameras. I have cables for them all too and also extra cables for connecting things to the tv here. USB cables, audio cables, video cables. I have earbud type headphones for the mp3 player, standard headphones for the laptop, Skype headphones (with mic attached) for, well, Skype calls and large cordless headphones for walking around the house still listening to whatever source the transmitter is plugged into.

If you've never listened to Jonathan Ross while on the toilet, you've never lived. Crap on the Crapper, I call it.

So with that lot in the case, including the 2 actual still cameras and lenses (and a camcorder), I don't think the x-ray machines can get through to the 6 month supply of pills underneath ! Nevertheless, I'm used to being taken to one side and asked (ha !) to open my case as all those cables and batteries usually raise a red flag with the security people. All my hours of careful packing are ruined by the ham fisted employee who knows he's not going to be the one to try and get it all back in again.

"Thank you, sir. That all seems to be fine. You may go now."

"GO now ?! GO now ?! Oh yes I'll GO alright.....just as soon as I get my shoes back on, power my laptop off, put my jacket on again, replace my dentures, refit my wig AND GET ALL THIS CRAP BACK INTO MY CASE, thank you very much !

It's like trying to get an octopus into a jam jar or Tiddles into her cat basket. You KNOW they'll fit in but, my God, it ain't gonna be easy. Or pretty.

The thing about airport security is the inconsistency of it all. I'm all for screening (no babies or kids under 19 should ever be allowed through) so I can fly safely but sometimes I have to remove my shoes, other times I don't. Sometimes I'm asked to power up my laptop, sometimes not. Sometimes I have to open my case, sometimes not.

Then there are the scanners we go through ourselves. Sometimes the one coin that's secreted itself in a deep, dark recess in my pants pocket will set off the alarm. Sometimes the $5.32 in lose change in my turn ups won't.

It doesn't fill me with a lot of confidence but how far should security go ? Many 'harmless' objects can be used to cause mischief and mayhem within a sealed plane. If I'm ever sitting next to someone who starts rubbing his plastic cutlery together to create fire or tries to open the nearest door wanting some fresh air at 35,000ft, I'm going to be using those extended audio cables for something other than listening to SuBo on my mp3.

Thanks to the Christmas bomber, I'll probably be suspicious now of any passenger who even rubs his thighs to remove meal crumbs. It a sad state of affairs when someone who needs to adjust his underwear at the end of a 9 hour flight can be made to feel like a terrorist !

How the hell did I get onto this ? I was supposed to be posting about being halfway through my trip here ! Oh yeah, I said the time had flown by, that was it. Then I digressed. It's a senior thing.

So 88.5 days still to go. Plenty more pool parties to go to and then forget about. The sun will shine, the palm trees will sway and all too soon, I'll be heading off to Orlando airport for the flight home. Of course I'll have no drugs in my case then. I'll be a proper mule and have them all inside me, to some degree or other.

As for the cables, cameras and electronic stuff, I'm tempted to just take them in a Walmart bag to save time repacking but I just know, that'll be the time when I'm not taken to one side. And here's a heads up for you. I'm taking no chances in the underwear department either.

I'll be flying commando.

Avatar Sinks Titanic

At only $5m short of the record, by the time most people read this, Avatar will have become the highest worldwide grossing movie of all time, surpassing the staggering $1,843.2m set by Titanic 13 years ago.

With the increase in ticket prices, I guess it was only a matter of time before the record was broken but I've always thought that "bums on seats" would be a better way to gauge the popularity of a movie. I realise that the studios want, and need, to know how much money their movies make and so this will probably always be the way the record is achieved.

I just think it should be possible to take the money AND count the customers at the box office !

James Cameron has now written and directed the two top worldwide grossing movies in history. Avatar and Titanic have, to date, grossed a mind boggling $3,682m with seemingly plenty more to come.

But amazing as the stats for Avatar may be, one fact stands out above all others.

I've not seen it !

UPDATE : Avatar officially overtakes Titanic as the highest grossing movie of all time.

Italy Day 7 - 2nd September 2009

Time for another report on our trip to Italy last Aug/Sept and if I continue to go at this speed, I'll be done by Aug/Sept THIS year !

This post will be different from 99.999% of my previous posts as I'm going to include photos not taken by me. Shock, horror. My two travelling companions, Daphne and Stephen, took as many photos as I did and as I like some of their Pisa ones better than any I took, they'll be mixed in with mine.


After a lovely breakfast, we packed up our belongings, loaded the cases into the rental car, left our hotel (Residenzia Del Sogno) and headed westwards towards Pisa.


As you can see, the hotel location left much to be desired, set in an industrial wasteland as it was !! The great thing about Italy, or at least the parts of it that we fortunate enough to visit, is that even on the drives between points of interest, you go through some of the most stunning scenery you could ever wish to experience.

Despite having Daphne rabbiting on from the back seat !

The 3 hr drive to Pisa took us again through the beautiful Tuscan countryside and although the GPS took us unerringly towards the Leaning Tower, Stephen took us unerringly the wrong way down a one way street ! I'm only joking, Stephen. We were all accomplices in this traffic faux pas as the streets around The Tower weren't build for either cars or Italians driving cars and it can be very stressful finding your way around these old towns and cities when you're looking for somewhere to park and also trying to avoid mad drivers.

We caught tantalising glimpses of The Tower now and then as we slowly negotiated the narrow streets, avoiding the horse drawn carriages, the vespas, the tourists who walked everywhere and the local drivers who didn't care about side swiping any of them.

Finally we found a small parking piazza and ignoring the attempts of several 'colourful' opportunists who tried to charge us for them guiding us into a parking bay, we simply got a ticket from a machine and set off for the short walk to The Tower. Here are a couple of photos to show the route we took and how, despite it being relatively small, you can still see the top of it from some distance.



The Tower is to the left of centre, with the flag on top.

By now it was 1pm and we were starving. Just a few yards from The Tower we found a small pavement cafe and had cold sandwiches and drinks. I had a cicken panini (well that's what it said on the menu !) and lovely cicken it was too.

Fully refreshed, we set off again and just beyond that bend in the photo above, the street opened out into Pisa's famous Cathedral Square, Piazza Del Duomo. There, across a tourist strewn lawn, we saw the 3 buildings which take up most of the square. On the extreme left was The Baptistry, in the middle was The Cathedral and on the right, in front of us, was The Leaning Tower itself.

First impressions ? A bit of a let down really. It was quite small and didn't seem to be leaning all that much. Then I realised it was leaning TOWARDS me and so I wasn't getting the full effect.


There were several phone and power lines going from one side of this view to the other and never one to let that sort of thing spoil a good photo, I've edited them out as this is the first unobstructed view the tourist gets of The Tower and I really wanted it to BE unobstructed.

There were signs around the lawn that led off to the left but no one was paying them any attention. They asked that people stayed off the grass but to get the iconic photos of people holding up the tower, you had to go onto the grass.

Well when I say that no one paid them any attention, Stephen did. Initially. He treated the lawn as a no go area and it took a lot of pleading and finally threatening to get him to step over the low rope and hold up The Tower like everyone else ! It was quite funny to watch dozens of tourists taking photos of their friends in the same pose, although I think the lady in the 2nd photo below had completely lost the plot.



Anyway, here is one of me doing what came naturally and then a photo of The Cathedral with The Tower leaning out behind it.



It's from this last angle that you get a real idea of the "leaniness" of The Tower. Here are a couple more which show this better, getting closer each time, and finally one showing the tourists who paid their 15 euros and made it to the top.




So that was The Leaning Tower of Pisa, actually Pisa's Cathedral bell tower and although you'd never get a local to admit it or their tourist industry would collapse, there are plenty of other less famous leaning bell towers all over Italy - but maybe not leaning as much as theirs. It's been leaning ever since construction began in 1173 and if I'd been paying for it all, I'd have called in a different builder a long time ago !

Tourist grabbing stalls ran all the way down the side of the piazza and you can get every type of memento from plastic leaning towers to gold plated...ah....plates. I got caught up in it all, as you do, and got a few items myself. Pressies you know.



Time was up and we'd seen enough. It's probably a lovely little town but like most tourists, once we'd 'done' The Tower, we wanted to get out of Dodge. Or Pisa.

We set off on the short 15 mile drive up the coast to Viareggio where Daphne had once had a holiday with her parents, when she was 7 going on 8. So back in 1935 or some such date.

The resort had an end of season feel about it and although it was only 2nd September, many of the large beachside hotels were closed already. The beaches were almost empty but never one to pass up a cheeky shot, here is one.


Daphne was well down memory lane and telling me about her previous time in Viareggio and how little had changed. Considering little has changed in Italy for thousands of years, this came as no surprise to me. I asked her if it looked any different now, considering it was in colour ! I can't print her reply.

This is her photographing the empty beach and sunshades.


On the main seafront road leading out of the town, we looked for a hotel for the night and although they were side by side for miles, many were also closed for the season. We eventually picked Hotel Joseph, which as you can see from the map on their website, was just a spit and a throw from the ocean.

After dumping our bags in the room, we set off along the promenade to find a restaurant recommended by the hotel. We walked about a mile and found...nothing. We came back to the hotel and asked for better directions and set off again. Again nothing. Back to the hotel, by now starving and foot weary, and we asked another staff member and this time, success.


As you can see from the penultimate photo above, we ate a hearty and typical Italian meal ! It was only 6pm and as usual, we had the place to ourselves. It MAY have been only 6pm but that didn't stop Daphne from having a beer, the lush.


If we'd known then that we'd have a brush with death the next day on the 200 mile drive northwards to Lake Como, Stephen and I would've had a beer too. Probably several. But for that evening it was back to Hotel Joseph and after a long day of walking and sightseeing, it was time for a bit of internet surfing and an early night.

To be continued...........

Home Sweet Home (Alone)

Deb & Den have gone on a week long cruise and right now should be heading past the north west coast of Cuba on the way to their first port of call, Cozumel, a Caribbean island off the eastern coast of Mexico's Yucatan Peninsula. Our best friends here and many others from the park have gone too and so it'll be strange to be on my own in the house for 7 whole days.

Of course with about 1,000 people or more in the park, I'm hardly alone here. In any case I'm used to being on my own as I do it back home in England but this is a bit different. For one thing I don't have a car outside that I can use to pop into town or go further afield if the mood takes me. Yes there is a huge truck at my disposal but as well as not being insured to drive it, due to its size, I'd rather not drive it unless in an emergency.

I'm also pet sitting as we have a dog here and our friends have a cat. I've even got written 'power of attorney' for both of them if something bad should happen but hopefully I can hand them over next Saturday in a healthy state and not as two little pots of ash !

On the upside, this is a chance to watch lots of the movies and shows I've downloaded over the last few months and not watched yet. It's also great to be doing dishes only for myself and for the next week I can leave the toilet seat up.......well most of the time ! There will be hot water for every shower and I can have a Family Guy marathon any time I want. I can try and watch 3 live sporting events at the same time without driving my house friends crazy and I can make certain personal noises without having to blame the dog.

But despite all these benefits, I already miss my friends. I hope they will have a lovely cruise and come back with stories and photos to share with me but in the meantime, I don't like being here without them.

Right now I have to go and feed the cat. Although I'm a bit of a cat whisperer, this one, called Paint, has resisted all my efforts to be his friend. In fact he rarely makes an appearance at all and if it wasn't for the decrease in the food and the increase in the poop, I'd not be 100% sure that Paint exists. I have seen photos but for peace of mind, I'd really like a visual.

Maybe today will be the day.

Money For Nothing

I get rightly upset when the BBC pays ridiculous sums of money to keep idiots like Jonathan Ross employed and on our tv screens as I'm a licence payer and so it's a chunk of MY money that he's being given.

Over on this side of the pond there are several late night 'chat' show hosts who earn much more money than Ross does and who provide even less entertainment. This is despite 'going out' late at night when most Americans are in bed or watching a dvd before going to bed.

Of course it doesn't bother them that they only get a few million viewers as they have such inflated egos that they'd perform at an AA meeting if they were paid enough.

There has been a lot of airtime taken up here lately as one of them, Jay Leno (the man who is paid so much he has probably the world's largest collection of luxury cars in private hands) decided to listen to his ego and get NBC to move him from The Tonight Show which he'd hosted for 17 years to a new show and a new slot at 10pm. Never mind that this is still an hour when lots of people are thinking about going to bed. Another (on even later) host was moved into his old slot on The Tonight Show and I dislike him so much that I can't even bring myself to type his name, Conan O'Brien.

This man is to entertainment what Hitler was to European tourism.

Moving on 7 months and Leno is dying on his feet on his new show. It, like him, stinks. He wants to go back to his old slot on The Tonight Show but in the battle of the egos, O'Brien isn't for moving. Of course this is just a ruse to get more money as even he knows he can only stall NBC but never beat them.

And what do you know...it's probably worked. NBC announced today a deal has been agreed where O'Brien is being paid $33m for quitting The Tonight Show after only 7 months and Leno will take over on March 1st. O'Brien, NBC says, will "be allowed to return to tv in 8 months."

It would be wonderful if no network wanted him but I'm sure there will be a slot for him somewhere. Maybe on The Shopping Channel ? Certainly not on The Comedy Channel although he himself must be having a laugh all the way to his bank.

His writers will no doubt put a spin on this so that his ego doesn't have to accept this as being a sacking. In the same way, Leno's writers will somehow spin things so that he didn't fail at 10pm but that the show just wasn't a suitable vehicle for his talents. His what now ?

There have been reports that Ross is being touted as a possible chat show host over here and you never know, the soon-to-be vacant 10pm NBC slot just might be dangled in front of HIS ego.

America, if you think your existing chat show hosts are crap, just wait till you get Ross.

With the staggering amounts of money being bandied around here, even if he only lasts a few shows, Ross might think he'd be financially set for life.

Sadly for us UK licence fee payers, we've done that for him already.

Food for Thought

Q. When is a Whopper not a Whopper ?

A : When it's a burger.

If you thought a Whopper WAS a burger, then I'm sure you're a bit confused by that Q&A but like when old Mrs. Zaminski bent over to pick up her false teeth at last years Hawaiian pool party, all will be revealed.

As you already know from my last post (and if you don't know, get to it and read it immediately), we were on a tight time schedule and running a bit late after shopping at Walmart so didn't have time for a sit down lunch anywhere. Asked for my choice of fast food to pick up, I said Burger King as I like their Whoppers.

For the uninitiated, a Whopper is a grilled meat pattie in a sesame bun with onion, lettuce and tomato and as with just about every sandwich you get here in America, pickle and mayonnaise.

It's incredibly healthy and nutritious and when taken as part of a combo (fries and a drink), it fulfils one's daily requirement of 5 fruits and vegetables in one wonderfully tasty and succulent meal.

Shut up, it works for me !

Being the slim,trim, athletic person wot I am, I decided to forgo the combo deal and just asked for the Whopper - this time. I'd get the rest of my 5-a-day some other way. Actually as she was driving and therefore the one closest to the drive thru ordering machine, Debby ordered for me as she knows my Whopper preferences.

"A Whopper, please, with no pickle and no mayo."

I hate pickles with a passion usually only reserved for that other nose turning abomination, parmesan cheese. I never want either within 100yds of my food and if ever I get a pickle on a sandwich or even on my plate, they'd better not just take it back to the kitchen and think to remove the offending item. Oh no, I want a whole new meal thank you.

And I don't like mayo as it's unhealthy !

So with my new improved healthy and tasty Whopper being carefully prepared inside by a crack team of chefs from the American Culinary Institutel, money was handed over and we waited by the collection window. A few seconds later the bag was passed out and we set off for home.

I had the top of the bag firmly closed inside my hand as I wanted to eat the Whopper back home where I could sit in comfort and also have a drink to wash it down. A mile or so down the road I realised this was a bad idea as it would be lukewarm at best and it just doesn't do to nuke a Whopper. So, deciding to eat it on the way, I opened the bag and removed the covered Whopper, noticing that the little pickle and mayo images on the covering paper had been crossed out, indicating that my preferences had been dealt with.

Now a Whopper is an aptly named food item as with the normally generous portions of salad additives, the package is quite thick and substantial. Not so with this Whopper.

I opened the wrapping paper, lifted the top of the bun and found a very lonely looking meat pattie and then the bottom of the bun. Granted no pickle and no mayo but there was no lettuce, tomato or onion either !

And THIS, dear reader, is when a Whopper became a burger and a very pathetic burger at that. I'm not sure what shocked me more : that my Whopper was salad-less or that without the salad bits, the meat in a Whopper leaves a lot to be desired. It may have been a turning point in my fast food eating habits !

It was too far to go back and we didn't have the time to do so. Being an American town, there are fast food outlets everywhere and there was another Burger King on our route home so thanks to the wonderful marriage of phone and internet, we got the number of the one ahead and rang to explain what had happened and they said to call in and they'd sort me out a new Whopper.

I went in and as they were expecting me, I was served right away. Handing over my pathetic looking burger, I suggested they add the meat to my new Whopper (as I knew they'd throw it away anyway) but this was too complicated a concept for the young employee to cope with and she said "oh no, we'll make you a brand new Whopper, sir."

"Yes but.........."

Into the bin went Lonely Pattie and Soggy Dough.

Dammit.

"I'll fix you some fresh fries, too, sir."

"But I never............"

Dammit. Well ok then, if you're GIVING them away...........

And so I finally got my Whopper as I like it, with lashings of crisp lettuce, juicy tomato and fresh onion. No pickle, no mayo. And with fries thrown in !

Some time later I rang the first Burger King outlet to complain about my order as I just couldn't understand how they could wrap up a burger with clearly marked Whopper wrapping paper and yet with only a bun and meat pattie inside. They apologised and said that, although some customers DO only want bread and meat, this clearly did not constitute a Whopper and, taking down my name, they said they'd give me a free Whopper on my next visit. Result !

I'm temped to take them up on this offer but order it without pickle, mayo, lettuce, tomato and onion.

"But that just leaves the bun and the meat pattie, sir, and that's not a Whopper."

"Well it was the last time I came here !!!"

Walmart Can Seriously Damage Your Health

We went on a quick shopping trip to Walmart yesterday afternoon and may need to go again on Friday as Deb/Den are leaving on a week long cruise on Saturday and so I'll be 'home alone' in the park with no transportation if I run out of anything.

Well that's not strictly true as their truck will be here but as it's a one ton behemoth, over 21ft long and 8ft wide, I'd rather not drive it (and park it) around Sebring ! It has the turning circle of a school bus and I just know I'd get struck in the McDonald's drive thru ! I've driven it once before, from Orlando airport back here to sunny Buttonwood Bay, but that was mostly along a 4 lane highway where I picked a lane and pretty much stayed in it for 80 miles.

Despite huge wing mirrors, it has a larger blind spot than Stevie Wonder and so most movements other than going in a straight line require the driver to triple check those mirrors, stick his/her head out the window, glance at the rear view mirror as if that'll help a lot and then move lanes hoping not to sideswipe some little hidden car and send its driver to a gruesome death in a roadside ditch.

So no, I think I'll be staying put in the park next week.

Anyway back to Walmart, always a great place for raising one's blood pressure and yesterday was no exception. I finished getting my few grocery items and went to the deli counter for some cooked ham. I was 3rd in line but this means little in Walmart as other more important factors come into play.

How many people are serving ?

How many deli items are being ordered by the customers in front ?

How old are both the servers and customers ? (This may be unique to Florida Walmarts).

There are some other factors of lesser importance (like do the customers in line know each other and so chat away when they could be odering ?) but even these can still add to the time taken for ME to be served.

Yesterday there was one lady server and even being kind, her best years of being a useful member of society were long behind her. When I joined the line, she was over at the slicer with her back to us and so I assumed she was cutting the meat for the person at the head of the line.

I checked my watch as we were on a schedule and HAD to be back at the park for a set time as Dennis needed the truck to go to work.

7 minutes passed.....yes I swear it.....7 minutes passed and she finally turned around with a slice of meat to give to the customer to be sure it was sliced how he wanted it. They do this here and if you're in no hurry, it's a great idea and you end up with a free slice of meat. UK supermarkets, please note. The (old) customer nibbled at it like he was a food critic and he was tasting a slice of kobi beef rather than cooked ham, reduced to $2.88/lb. Once satisfied, he told the server it was fine and she sauntered back to the slicing machine to cut his order.

What the hell had she been doing for those 7 minutes (plus any time before I got there) at the slicer ? Had she had a stroke, gone into a temporary coma, forgotten where she was or all of the above ? Just how long does it take to cut one slice of meat ?

In an effort to relieve the boredom and lower my blood pressure, I started looking around the store. People watching there is such fun. The usual crowd were in.....numerous obese people monopolising the disabled scooters, women in bedroom attire wearing crocs, ponytailed men in heavily stained wife beater shirts, women (mostly) with backsides you could rest your laptop on, little old women with pants hitched up to their armpits and visually impaired old men who had their clothes picked out by a wife that they'd obviously had a fight with the night before. Never mind colour clash, these outfits were fashion disasters.

I looked back at the deli counter as by now 15 minutes had passed and I'd not moved. The man at the front still hadn't been given his order and I assumed he'd ordered a lot and would be presented with several ziplock bags of sliced meat at some point in time. Eventually he was given one bag, left and we all moved up one place. ONE BAG !!???

Before the man in front of me was asked for his order, the server resealed the joint of meat on the slicer, gave the machine a good clean and put the joint back into the display cabinet with all the speed of an Olympic sprinter not on drugs. I immediately saw a flaw in this procedure and sure as eggs are eggs, when he was then asked for his order, the customer wanted the same ham !

OFFS.

At this point a quasi manager (he had a different coloured tag on his shirt and to be honest, I didn't care what role he performed) came out from the nearby bakery area and as he was obviously going to pass by our rapidly growing line, I did a very unBritish act and stepped out to stop him in his tracks. Thinking he was about to be attacked, he put up his clipboard as some sort of shield and was patently relieved when he discovered I just wanted a word with him. I'm not sure how much use a cork clipboard would've been against a determined attacker but maybe it would've deterred a novice gang member out of his initiation gig.

I politely showed him that there was only one server and a line of about 8 people who were all getting a bit frazzled by having to wait for so long. I pointed out that I'd been clean shaven when I joined the line and that most of us could now recite, word for word, the Walmart commercial being repeated ad nauseum on the tv screen hanging over the deli counter. I could even hum the tune if required.

He went to get more staff and as I turned back to the deli expecting to see smiles and hear applause from my fellow 'liners', I found that the customer in front had long gone and I had been holding up the line by talking with the manager ! No smiles or applause were forthcoming.

I gave my order to FloJo, asked her not to bother with a sample slice and was done in about 3 minutes. In the meantime another server appeared as if by magic and as I made my way to the checkouts, I looked back and the line was actually moving before my very eyes !

I had 11 items in my cart and so approached the express checkouts....20 items or less. Now as I've mentioned before, these signs are there simply to heighten blood pressure and stress levels as the only people who ignore them more than the customers are the checkout staff. I scanned all 6 lanes to try and work out which would be the fastest but in the Sebring Walmart this is no easy task. Customer numbers mean nothing and you have to scan the carts.

Admittedly most of those in the lines did only have a few items but this was offset by knowing that, as seniors, they'd take forever to get those items out of their carts and processed and then either pay by check (not having filled in any of the details up front), or pay by credit card and swipe it backwards and upside down a few times before getting it right or worse still, pay by cash.

OMG never ever be behind an old woman paying with cash. They are the only breed who can visit Italy, safe in the knowledge that no passing Vespa thief will EVER successfully mug them.

Their money is hidden so deep within purses, handbags and shopping bags that exchange rates would change before it saw the light of day. The bit that gets me every time, is that when presented with the amount owed, they almost jump with surprise as if the very idea of having to pay for the items had never entered their minds.

On the rare occasions when I pay by cash, as a man, I've checked and rechecked the money in my hand several times before getting the first item out of the cart. I usually apologise profusely if it comes to £12.57 and I hand over £12.58.

"Oh I'm ever so sorry. I've probably got some coins in my turn ups if you've got a minute. How about £12.56, a piece of fluff and a polo mint that's only been lightly sucked ? "

I almost joined the line that had only 2 customers until I noticed that the last one was obviously a Haitian relief worker and was wanting to organise a food drop by himself. If some wag had used a felt tip and added a zero to the sign, he'd still have had too many items.

Still seething from the deli counter and worrying about getting back to the park in time, I took a chance and went behind a line with four people as two of them were a senior couple in front of me who although having about 30 items in their cart, looked sprightly enough to get them processed and paid for without me needing to 'tut' them along.

I was only half right. Oh the man was sprightly enough. So sprightly that he was putting the processed items back into the cart while his wife was still putting new items up on the checkout belt. Like waiting for an inevitable train wreck, I watched with mounting horror as the first 'already processed' item passed by the scanner for a second time. It had been in a plastic Walmart bag of course but the wife was in full 'grab it and lift it' mode and wasn't paying attention to where exactly she was grabbing things from.

If I'd thought about it in time, I could've moved my cart up a bit and had my groceries paid for !

After a second item was rescanned this way, I just had to jump in because, amusing as this was for the idle spectator, I was on the clock and this version of Groundhog Day could've gone on for some considerable time - till one of the couple twigged something was wrong or the cash register ran out of paper. I didn't hold out much hope for the former and couldn't wait for the later and so pointed out what was happening to the 3 of them. The two rescanned items were voided, I helped the lady put the rest of the NEW items up onto the belt and suggested that the cart, and the husband, be moved to the front, well away from wife !

My groceries were processed without incident and as I wheeled my cart to the doors, I glanced at the deli counter and gave a little smile when I saw there was no line.

Was that a successful ending to the shopping trip ?

On no. There was still the small matter of the Burger King Whopper that was anything but a Whopper.

to be continued...........

It's A Family Affair

My mum was one of 12 children and my dad was one of......well more than one I think but I've honestly no idea. We tended to always be surrounded by my mum's side of the family and visits to and from my dad's side were as rare as a fashionable mullet.

So I had 7 maternal aunts and 5 uncles. The uncles were proper ones and none of those "oh here is your Uncle Festus who tells such funny stories. Stop crying and go sit on his knee, like a good boy."

All but 4 of those relatives were involved with farming in one way or another so we never went short of milk, potatoes, eggs or cow pats. Yes cow pats. Memories of my summer holidays seem to include avoiding cow pats, helping to bale hay, sorting potatoes and collecting hen and duck eggs. A lot of it was very hard manual work back in those sepia days and few if any of the next generation went into 'the family business' and most farm land was sold off or rented out.

8 of the family members never left N. Ireland and of the other 4 who moved to England, one became a nun who never climbed a mountain, forded a stream or even followed a rainbow.

She was just a nun and a fun nun at that.

4 of the 12 are still alive and kicking, although I suspect their kicking days are long gone. 2 of them, my uncles, never married and so give me hope that being single doesn't mean ending up in an early grave. I'm not in touch with any of them, aunts or uncles, and that's a shame really.

With 12 of them to start with, added to the catholic propensity for multiple births ( I won't cause a family scandal by including the 3 unmarried ones in this equation ), I'm sure I've relatives up the ying yang that I know nothing about. A family tree would be interesting and informative but I'm not the one to attempt it, considering I've never been 100% sure that I wasn't adopted !

Apart from our skin colour, and mine is getting darker the more I remain in Florida, it's hard to believe my brother and I are.....brothers. His accent, attitudes and appearance (he has hair for a start) suggest a brother from a different mother. Yes I hate that expression too.

But the main reason for not attempting to chart a family tree is because I'd even need help for the first level below each aunt and uncle. When I left home for England back in 1970, I pretty much lost contact with everyone and 40 years later, I only seem to be told about them when it's time to go to their funerals. I suppose I'm reaping the seeds of my indifference.

Family is important but I seem to be discovering that truism very late in life.

A Tale Of The Travelling Pants

Back in ye olden days when I were a lad, I couldn't wait for the day when my parents deemed me old enough to wear long trousers. I can't remember exactly when that day came, but I know I was out of those shorts faster than you could say "Fr. Murphy's coming for tea."

I know it was before I left school (when I was 18) but probably only just. I'm pretty sure I had long pants when I was at university but I've no photos to prove that.

Back then, it was a sort of rite of passage to go from short to long pants and doting mothers who never wanted their sons to be grown up, delayed this passage for as long as was morally and fashionably possible. As a result, my legs got a few more years of fresh air on them than was typical of the time and as if the 'big boys' at my boarding school needed any more excuses to beat the crap out of me (wearing thick NHS glasses and having a pudding basin haircut being pretty good for starters), my pale scrawny legs on display seemed to send them into a frenzy of name calling and teasing.

"But mum, I MUST be old enough now to wear long pants. Everyone else in my class has them"

"Well, everyone else isn't you. You're my little boy and you look so cute in those shorts"

"But mummmmmmm, I'm freakin' 25 !!"

Like with a lot of things, as we approach our golden years, things have a habit of coming full circle. We start to leak fluids (and occasionally solids) at both ends just like we did when we started out in life. We talk utter nonsense that few can comprehend and hairs grow in very odd places just like back then too.

But now I can add wearing shorts to that list. For the 6 months that I'm in Florida, I'm rarely out of shorts and on the few occasions when long pants are called for, I feel very odd indeed. But no one calls me names or laughs at me now, well not to my face anyway ! In this place, varicose veins, liver spots, surgery scars and often brand new knees are all exposed to the sunlight pretty much all day and all winter long.

It's quite bizarre really but if the average age of the residents in this park is, say, 70, then the average age of their knees is probably 2 years. There has been more reconstructive surgery done on these people than on Demi Moore, Victoria Beckham and Wayne Newton combined. I've left Cher, Madonna and Dolly Parton out of this to keep from tipping the balance.

During the cold spell that's just ended, everyone did wear long pants and probably several pairs of them at the same time. Shorts were washed and ironed all ready for that exciting day when they could be worn again. For me it was a flashback to my yute and I couldn't wait to whip off the longs and get on the shorts.

I'm sure a time will come when my legs become skeletal and I'll have to revert to long pants just to stop ladies from fainting at the sight of them. But until then, I plan on flashing my 57 year old legs with their 57 year old knees at all and sundry.

Sorry mum - your little boy is all grown up now.

Random Rambling Reflections

As the weather (I know, I know....yawnnnn) was so much improved today, I went out for a walk with the Canon in the warm sunshine.

The camera I mean.

As usual, feel free to click on the photos to enlarge them.

It was pretty busy on the lake as many residents dusted the cobwebs off their boats and headed out to do some fishing or just enjoy some time on the water.






Of course you can't just buy a boat and go off into the sunset on it. Oh no. You have to learn the ways of boating and the rules of seamanship (??) and before you can be let loose on the water, you have to be content with first playing on dry land. Bless.


For some reason today, I was taken with shapes and colours and although I don't usually take these sorts of photos, I quite liked these ones today.



Finally the usual critters were out and about and probably enjoying the warmer weather too. There haven't been as many squirrels around this season as we were all given an ear bashing for feeding them in previous seasons. They've probably moved on to the park 'next door'.

The occasional squirrel still tries to get a handout by hanging off a tree and looking extremely cute. I kept my quarter pounder with cheese firmly to myself and McSquirrel had to be content with just being photographed.


Actually far from having my eye on him, he had me on his eye. Have a look at it again.

Half way along the canal that leads to the lake, I came upon Albert Anhinga drying his wings in the warm sunshine. He wasn't in a modelling mood today and soon flew off, skimming the water before effortlessly heading up to a nearby tree to continue drying his wings in peace.

I decided not to follow !



I was out and about for about 3 hours and it was lovely. Despite being full of holes, Florida is almost back to normal again and all is well with the world.

Well my world anyway. And Albert's.