Dragon Boats; Worst Parking Prize of the Week; Day Trip to Homosassa; A Fishing Plan; The Jones Trio?

While walking at nearby Lake Sumter, we observed some of our local Villagers paddling a racing Dragon Boat. These hardy souls practice rain or shine (okay, so there’s not much rain these days), warm or cold (well, not much cold, either). There are four or five teams here, and a couple have gotten to the national championships in their age group. There is usually a drummer at the bow who keeps the cadence for the paddlers; it’s reminiscent of the Roman galleys, except the rowers aren't chained to their benches and starved, and there is no huge tattooed guy with a whip encouraging them to row faster... well, to tell the truth, there may be one, on the US Marine Corps boat... OOH-RAH, Marines!!!! 

We were at Sweetbay (our closest grocery) the other evening and saw this parking job. Please note that for privacy reasons (and for my personal safety), I do not show the license plate of “offending” (“offensive”?) automobiles, but I do hope that in posting some of the most egregious examples of ridiculous parking jobs, I can improve the parking performance of the perpetrators. (Smile.) If this is your car, please email me with your name and you win the prize for the Week's Worst Parking Job! (Yes, and of course your name will be prominently displayed on our Parking Hall of Shame board....)

On Saturday My Lovely Bride, the puppies and I made a day trip to Homosassa Springs, where Suzanne gave her new presentation, “Meaning and Messages from the Other Side”.   94 members of the New Age Thinkers group attended, a very full house, many of whom had heard Suzanne speak a year ago when she gave her “Where Science and Spirituality Meet” presentation.  Suzanne said the loving energy from the group almost knocked her off her feet. 

While I helped Suzanne set up, Rudy and Gretchen waited (somewhat patiently) in the car, but you would think that Rudy was terribly bored while he waited until I could take him and his sister on a w-a-l-k. He was actually even more bored later, because there were no squirrels where we walked... 

After our walk, I drove around Homosassa looking for a good place to fish. (Yes, hope springs eternal.) After talking to a couple of professionals in a tackle shop, the guy selling bait on a boat rental dock, and two friendly “rednecks” drinking longneck Bud Lights in a pickup truck that had just driven up to the boat ramp I was inspecting, I am convinced that my next fishing expedition will be highly successful. (If I return fish-less, I may move to the Mojave Desert.) At least the scenery in Homosassa is very easy on the eyes.   

Finally, a quiz on US Navy history. This quiz and associated lesson is for a friend who is “historically challenged”. You have to pick the photo associated with a US Navy hero from the American Revolution. Try to match the facts with the photographs.

 

a. Was a rock singer with The Monkees.

b. As captain of the brig Alfred, hoisted the first United States flag aboard a Navy ship in 1776.

c. Was captain of USS Bon Homme Richard and defeated the much heavier gunned and manned HMS Serapis off Flamborough Head in 1779.

d. Is buried in a crypt at the US Naval Academy Chapel in Annapolis, Maryland.

e. Has had several US Navy ships named after him.

f. Was a guitarist for Led Zeppelin. 

If you have correctly identified the first picture (the guy in the funny hat) with answers b., c., d., and e., you win the "Knows American History Better Than a Lawyer" Award. 

Six Decades of Bliss; Finally, A Fish Dinner! Do I Look Like Stevie Wonder? Spyder-Man; Zeros, Hellcats, and Eyelashes????

I was in the Buffalo Barber Shop yesterday... (no, they do not do trims or even “high and tights” on bison...), but it is located across the street from the local high school, whose mascots are the Buffalo. While getting my locks trimmed, a couple in their late 80s came in, the husband pushing his wife’s wheelchair. He found a nice spot where he could sit next to her, and then for about 10 minutes held her hand and spoke softly to her while waiting their turns. They had probably been married for 60 years or more, and were obviously still very much in love. It was a very touching scene.

Speaking of marital bliss, My Lovely Bride and I recently went out to dinner at Bonefish Grill, our favorite seafood restaurant here in TV (The Villages). It was a chance to dress up and enjoy some of our favorite foods, including "Bang Bang Shrimp" and Chilean Sea Bass (no smart cracks about having to go out for fish since I can't seem to catch any, please!) 

Suzanne decided to do some decorating upgrades on the interior of our house. I suggested buying a kit and doing the work ourselves for half of what a professional would charge. As in many of my undertakings, it was a good idea whose time has not yet come.

One of the ladies who came to give us an estimate for the work shall be called Gertrude (for my personal safety... I am not worried about MLB thrashing me about the head and shoulders with a 2x4, but Gertrude is another person altogether.) To make a short story long, when Gertrude visited the house, she asked what color fabric Suzanne was interested in... they looked at swatches for a few minutes, and Suzanne picked one. She asked my opinion, and I replied with a typical guy answer... “Hmmmm..... yeah, okay.... looks terrific....” Gertrude looks at Suzanne and says, “Why bother asking Stevie Wonder there? You make the decisions here, right?”

I will admit to not having a lot of color coordination ability, but you must remember, I wore khakis or whites or blues for 26 years, except for the occasional special event requiring going incognito (AKA, “out of uniform”).  After I retired from the Navy, I was working in DC in a “cube” for about six months when Suzanne asked me one night, “Sweetheart, what color are the walls of your cube?” “What walls?” I replied. “Okay, how about the carpet?” “The carpet? Well, I guess it may be grey or blue or brown, or something like that.” I was fast realizing that (1) I was in trouble, and (2) my abilities in "color awareness" were somewhat limited. 

So when Gertrude the Evil Witch of the West made the Stevie Wonder crack, I was a bit P.O.’ed. (It doesn’t mean “Post Officed”, although "going postal" may have an similar outcome.) I thought about making a snide comment about Gertrude’s Brooklyn accent, but knowing that my health was at stake, I smiled blandly and vowed silently to run her down in the parking lot at the Dollar Store when she was buying dinner on Saturday night. I am not attaching Gertrude’s photograph as it might increase the felony charge from witchslaughter or vehicular homicide to premeditated murder.

Speaking of cars, and on the brighter side, I have a new car. Well, not exactly a new car. When I got Corvette Chick her new red ‘Vette, we decided to sell her 10 year old (Japanese-built) Mitsubishi Eclipse Spyder. It’s been listed on AutoTrader for six weeks, with nary a bite.   So until some Good Fairy comes along and buys her, Corvette Chick's husband has been informed that he is now and hereafter known as "Spyder Man". 

I’m not sure if the Eclipse's inability to sell has anything to do with being here in The Villages with a lot of WWII vets, whose only association with the Mitsubishi company was when it built the A6M Zero fighter, which was the mainstay combat aircraft of the Japanese Navy from 1941-1945.  

Actually, I’m probably very lucky that the Eclipse hasn’t been shot up by an old guy with a 12 gauge shotgun driving around in a golf cart made up to look like a Grumman F6F Hellcat. (That was the US Navy's rugged fighter plane launched from aircraft carriers to fight the Zeros in WWII.)

In any case, we now have two convertibles. Corvette Chick gets the red ‘Vette, I get the target... um, I mean the Eclipse... which is actually a pretty hot car, but nothing like a Babe Magnet that the Corvette is. I’m glad MLB didn’t suggest I drive a Mini-Cooper with eyelashes. (No, truly, I jest about that, but she would never, never do that...) 

Varmints! Word for the Day; A Wasabi Disaster; Cajun Wisdom

It was strange finding paw prints on the back of the car the other day. I would have missed them completely, but My Lovely Bride has a sharper eye than does Your Faithful Correspondent.  “Age does matter...” In any case, here is the evidence that a little masked marauder was trying to climb the back of our CR-V, probably to get up to the kayak on the roof. He may have picked up the scent of the monster fish that I had caught and wrassled, the vestiges of which were obvious to every varmint in the forest.  

Raccoons (Procyon lotor) originated in North America, but foolish introductions to other continents led to them being common in Europe, the Caucasus, and Japan. (I’ll bet they’re sorry now; they had enough bandits of their own before letting these guys into their neighborhoods!) Raccoons have a dense thermal insulating underfur, which is about 90% of their coat, and an outer coat called “guard hairs” which shed water. The raccoon's dark mask may reduce glare into its eyes, improving its night vision, since it is generally nocturnal. The largest recorded raccoon weighed 62 lbs and measured 55 inches in length, as big as a golden retriever. 

For climbing down trees headfirst, the raccoon can actually turn its hind feet so they point backwards. Their diet consists mostly of fish, amphibians and bird eggs, although as omnivores, they will eat almost anything if their favorite foods are not available. (“Dumpster diving” is a 20^th Century culinary skill that raccoons have perfected.)

Word for the Day: maquillage, n. makeup, or the art of applying makeup [Late 19th C. From French, from maquiller "to make up face," from Old french masquiller "to stain".] I am reminded of the time I was driving down a four-lane road and the young woman in the car next to me was drifting from lane to lane. She was putting on her makeup while driving. I tapped the horn, and she looked at me with annoyance, as if to say, "You idiot, can't you see I'm applying my makeup?" I sure learned my lesson....

My Lovely Bride spoke to a new group yesterday, the Virginia Trace Ladies Group here in The Villages. 120 ladies attended the catered luncheon at the Canal Street Recreation Center, and most of them had never heard Suzanne speak before. They enjoyed her presentation, and particularly liked her stories from her Navy days as a commanding officer and aide to the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. One lady purchased one of each of her books (at least each of the eight she had on display). Here is MLB on our lanai just before the luncheon. 

We went to dinner last night at our favorite Japanese sushi restaurant as a training event for Suzanne's brother Brent, along with his wife Cheryl and Mom Ruthie. As we were deciding on our order, Suzanne recounted her first visit to a Japanese restaurant in DC when she had received orders to Sasebo, Japan, for a 3 year assignment. She went out to a local Japanese sushi bar, ordered sushi, and when her dinner came, saw a big lump of avocado, which she voraciously popped into her mouth... it only took about five nanoseconds for the cleverly disguised wasabi, commonly called Japanese horseradish (although it is not a member of the horseradish family), to explode in her mouth and violently attack her nasal passages and Eustachian tubes. She almost called for an ambulance, but fortunately, unlike chili peppers, wasabi's effects wear off quickly, and she survived to tell the tale. (But we still kid her mercilessly about her experience.)

An interesting footnote is that wasabi is sometimes used in a modified smoke alarm for the deaf. One researcher found that spraying small amounts of wasabi vapor into the air would awaken a sleeping deaf subject within 10 seconds. (Yeah, but he probably went into convulsions, too.) So much of it is used in Japan that supply cannot meet demand, and large amounts are imported from China, Taiwan and New Zealand. The roots traditionally grow on the banks of mountain streams, but it is often grown hydroponically today. 

Finally, I feel bad about picking on poor Minnesotans who can't help the fact that they live in an icebox, so I thought I'd give you a parting Cajun story. I am from New Orleans, and while not a Cajun myself, went to college with a couple of Cajuns from southwest Louisiana.

Boudreaux was giving his nephew Pierre a ride to Lafayette one day, and when Pierre got into his truck carrying a laundry bag, he asked, "Pierre, what's with da bag? Yo mamma's washing machine broke?" 

"No, sir, Mr. Boudreaux. I saw the most beautiful woman when I passed the laundromat the other day, and if she's there now, I want to wash my clothes and get to know her." 

"Pierre, dat's not a very good idea."

"Why not, Mr Boudreaux?"

"Pierre, think about it for a minute. If dat woman can't afford a washing machine, how da hell you tink she can afford to support you?"

Award Winner Flo; Bird of the Week; Bread and Circuses; The Hoover Chicken; "Fishing for Fun"

Corvette Chick and Your Faithful Correspondent had the privilege of taking Flo Tejeras, our Floral Quiz Award Winner, out to breakfast at Panera in Spanish Springs this morning. Flo is also our fantastic massage therapist at Therapeutic Touch on Hwy 27/441, and used to be the massage therapist for the Miami Dolphins (the football team, not the marine mammals). Since her name means “flower” in Spanish, I think she had a natural ability in that quiz... 

As I paddled about in the mangroves along the Gulf of Mexico shoreline the other day, I wondered about one of the local inhabitants that kept swooping down to the water to catch fish... (yes, Bob, he was definitely doing much better than I). Our Bird of the Week is the Belted Kingfisher (Megaceryle alcyon). 11-14” in length, with a wingspan of 19-23 inches, this particular Kingfisher is the only example of its family resident in the US and Canada. The adult female (shown at left) is more brightly colored and is also slightly larger than the male. Both parents feed and care for the young. (They are obviously more advanced than many human sub-species).

One of the interesting facts about the Kingfisher is that a mating pair will build a nest in a river bank or sand bank, with male and female excavating a long, uphill-sloping tunnel, at the end of which is the nest. It is thought that it slopes upward in case of flooding, in which case the chicks would hopefully survive in the air pocket formed at the end of the sloping tunnel. (Pretty self-sufficient and clever, I’d say; after all, they can’t rely on the Federal Flood Insurance Program like many people who build their houses next to rivers known for flooding or on hurricane-prone beaches). 

Phrase for the Day: “Bread and Circuses”... the phrase originates in about 100 AD in the writings of the Roman poet and satirist Juvenal, when he states “Already long ago, from when we sold our vote to no man, the People have abdicated our duties; for the People who once upon a time handed out military command, high civil office, legions - everything, now restrains itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses.” 

Juvenal is alluding to the Roman practice of providing free flour and expensive games (chariot races, men fighting wild animals, and gladiatorial games, to name a few) in the Coliseum and other stadia, in order to gain or maintain political power. It also describes one of the causes for the downfall of the Roman Empire, a loss of interest in maintaining the principles on which Rome was based..... 

Okay, just so we don't get too hung up on the Decline and Fall of the (name your favorite) Empire, here is a friend of Suzanne's that we met on a bike ride recently. This as a fine example of Gopherus polyphemus, the Gopher Tortoise. It is the state reptile of Georgia and the state tortoise of Florida. It is considered a keystone species, since the burrows it digs are used by about 350 other species. The Gopher Tortoise is also threatened because of predation by armadillos, raccoons, foxes, skunks and alligators, and also by loss of forest habitat to development. (Don't worry, the person with the nicely manicured nails is not fondling or even touching Tommy Tortoise... she is merely holding her hand nearby for size comparison... no tortoise was tortured, troubled, or traumatized in the making of this blog). 

One of the last bits of Ty Trivia for the day (I know you are relieved at this point) is that the Gopher Tortoise was known as the "Hoover Chicken" during the Great Depression because they were eaten by poor people out of work. The photo at right is of Herbert Hoover, our 31st President, who coincidentally wrote 16 books, the last of which, "Fishing for Fun - And To Wash Your Soul", was based on his habit of driving alone into the mountains or the woods to find solitude and good fishing. I would like to end with three of Hoover's not-so-famous quotes:

1. While we are steadily organizing increased production of leisure time, the production of what to do with it still lags greatly. We go to chain theaters and movies. We watch someone else knock a ball over the fence or kick it over the goal post. And the more leisure time, the more crime. 

2. No one commits crimes while fishing.
3. All men are equal before fish.

S.O.A.R!-ing in Port Richey; Redfish Blues; An Aesopian Fable

Suzanne held her S.O.A.R! Workshop today in the chapel at Unity of Port Richey for a delightful group of attendees. Rudy and Gretchen even got to spend a couple of hours in the workshop since the church is dog-friendly. 

As we were setting up, I glanced out the chapel window and saw Gretchen sitting in the front seat of The Bus watching Suzanne closely. Here is our little girl keeping watch on her Dog-Mom. 

The puppies enjoyed walking the church grounds and looking for squirrels. Here they are on alert. They treed a couple, but never got close to catching one. 

While Suzanne led her workshop, I went fishing, hoping to catch a big redfish for dinner. I first spent an hour at a fishing pier, with nothing but a few strikes and lost bait shrimp to show for my efforts. I returned to The Bus for lunch with My Lovely Bride, and made a fishing foray in one of our kayaks in the afternoon. It was a lovely day, with a sighting of a jumping eagle ray close to the boat. 

There were also several birds diving for small fish. A kingfisher was very active, with an osprey occasionally swooping down for a larger fish. I managed to board this monster fish, the only catch of the day, but he was thrashing around the cockpit such that I feared he would capsize the kayak and I’d be shark bait, so I had to let him go. 

Exhausted from my fishing efforts, I decided to take Corvette Chick out for sushi. (It was my way of getting revenge against the fish community). After a couple of sushi disasters (poor quality fish and/or rice), we have decided that when visiting a new sushi bar, we would try the gyoza and one small order of sushi to ensure we will be happy with the main order. Fortunately, tonight’s experience was almost as good as our Sumter Landing favorite.

Now, to provide a brief tongue-in-cheek answer to Terri Horsmann, our Minnesnowdan Poet Laureate and Chamber of Commerce spokesperson. For those readers who have not visited that state, or who are geographically challenged, the Land of 10,000 Lakes is bordered on the east by Wisconsin (Cheese Head Land), on the south by Iowa, and on the west by North and South Dakota. Since North Dakota is well known for having the worst weather in the Lower 48, you can guess what kind of winters Minnesota experiences. The last ice age saw an ice sheet and glaciers about a kilometer thick covering the state. (The last ice age ended here on July 15, 2008.) Minnesota also borders on Lake Superior, the setting for The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald, a ship that was caught in a winter storm and was lost with all hands. (Did I mention that winter in this state lasts from July 15^th until the following July 1^st?)

The state’s most important invention was the Oreo cookie. I have been thanked for eating Oreos because I contribute to Terri’s ESOP. As a Navy guy, I had to look this one up, since no one ever offered me part ownership in any of the ships to which I was assigned. It seems that when Terri retires, she will get a 25 years supply of Oreos. Hey, this is one of the best deals in the world. I might even think about moving to Minnesota for that! (Well, let me think about that for a few minutes...) 

Animals in Minnesota must be able to survive the harsh winter by burrowing beneath the permafrost or vacationing in Florida. Most choose the latter method of survival. Migratory waterfowl are plentiful, but you must remember what the word “migratory” means. Fish are also plentiful, but they are frozen in the ice for many months so are very difficult to catch. (Frozen fish fingers were invented here).

Minnesota has a population of 5 million or so, but only 28 spend the winter there. Most are descendants of four immigrants from Scandinavia, Ole, Lena, Sven, and Sven’s unnamed wife. (She is rumored to be unnamed because she was actually from New York.) It was a harsh life then as now, so few women volunteered to come to Minnesota. Most have been kidnapped from warmer climes. You can tell a native Minnesotan by his/her ghostly pallor and chalk-white legs, unless they have fled the snow and ice to Florida.

Oh, yes, I almost forgot the Ole and Sven jokes, such as when Ole went to the Sons of Norway Hall one night and finally won the door prize, which was a toilet brush. He was so excited that he won he brought it home and used it often. Someone asked him during the next meeting what the prize was and if he liked it or not. Ole replied, "Yea I like the toilet brush, but I think I'm gonna go back to using paper."

We all know of the many famous people who hail from Minnesota; Jane Russell, Jesse Ventura, and recent presidential candidate Michelle Bachmann. (Oh, yes, there are others... but those are definitely the most famous...)     ;-)