Category: florida

I grew up here, sometimes I go back here.

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mouth like an ashtray


First night “out” in Florida. Beers and cigarettes with old friends.

Could’ve done without the cigarettes, but such is my vice and I’ve exhausted that subject many times prior. I like taking my time to write, vacation is good for that, snatching a few minutes here and there during the day with no midnight deadline looming over me or “writing windows” which I must work within. Ran into an old friend at the local brewpub, whom I hadn’t seen in some ten years, and had a great time catching up and talking shop (even though I was many years his junior, I used to be his manager when we worked together at the record store). I like learning what people I used to know, even just as fleeting acquaintances, are doing now. I guess most folks enjoy a good round of “where are they now?” Anyway, Keaton was asleep and I touched her soft little face when we finally hit the sack around 1am. I’d had the perfect amount of spirit, enough to make a plea for marital relations (a plea that fell on deaf ears), but not enough to wake up with a headache (although my mouth tasted like an ashtray).

Today my day went like this: wake up around 7am and hand babygirl to mom for a wakeup boob; go online and load up the blog to see if anyone commented on my “best of” entry, and make a couple changes when I realize I forgot a couple albums (too late to shuffle them into the rankings now, the deed’s been done); no comments on the entry, time for to evacuate the bowels and wash the scent stale smoke and beer from my skin; play with babies for several hours, both my own and those of friends come to visit; finish the first volume of the books I’m reading; take a nap; blog. I’m telling you, it’s mindless, aimless bliss. I have time to really sit and enjoy playing with Keaton, and to appreciate how happy she can make her relatives when she smiles and coos and makes mean faces when I tell her “No” as she tries to grab the spoon during feedings.

Substance or no, it’s done now. Until tomorrow.

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this thing on?


Hey there, anybody out there? Did I lose you?

Safe and sound in Florida, balmy weather and the smell of the sea in the air – and I’m completely smitten. I think, that the more Sharaun and I come here for “vacation,” the more the once familiar sights, smells, and sounds of “home” become associated with some a sense of disconnected leisure. I’m happy about this, because I have this thought that, if I can get the notion of “Florida” associated with relaxation and lack of responsibilities and deadlines, it’ll be a comforting place I can run to anytime – an escape. I’m actually loving being here, even if it’s been just one day. I took a nap, read some of my book, and laughed with family and friends. What’s more, I’m gonna make a concentrated effort to do little more than that for the remainder of the two weeks we have here.

I will write, I promise. I feel that itch again, but more now I feel the need to not write – to not do much of anything.

See you around.

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y’all couldn’t break me


Tuesday night. Tonight I cleaned the cat’s litterbox, as it had taken to smelling foul. Now, I always clean out the litterbox, but I rarely clean the actual box. I took the whole thing outside, hosed it down and cleaned it with 409 then rinsed it. I hate to say it, but now that we have Keaton I feel the need to have a pet less and less. Not that I don’t like this cat, but I keep thinking about no cat hair, no cat food, and most importantly no animal using the bathroom in our laundry room. I know Sharaun would kill me for suggesting it…

This weekend, while Sharaun and I were cleaning out and organizing the garage, I came across a plaque I’d received in 1983 when I played for an AYSO soccer team as a rough-‘n’-tough six year old goalkeeper. I was terrible at soccer, as I am at any organized sport. Even at my tender age, I could tell that sports were nothing more than flashpoints of self-consciousness and humiliation for me. Born with no natural skills, and skin not tough enough to endure the training to acquire said skills, I gave up sports forever. It was a decision I still rue, as today it makes me feel like I’m lacking in one critical area of dudemanship. Maybe, if I had just stuck with it back then, while my muscles and mind were still malleable, I could’ve learned skills. As it stands now, the thought of organized sports strikes fear into my heart. I can’t swing a bat, I throw like a girl, and I feel like I’m alone on a stage of shame when I stand in a field of any kind. I’ve said before that I positively fear the day my son (who currently doesn’t exist) asks me to teach him to throw and hit, I’ll have to refer him to his athletic mother and retreat back to my computer. Oh… the embarrassment is almost palpable just thinking about it.

Anyway, I took the plaque and brought it to work. Hung it on the fabric wall of my tiny cubicle as a source of mock-pride. At least my season of soccer twenty-three years ago was good for a joke now. With its wooden backing, golden soccerball, and the misspelled team name in brass, my 1983 “Scorpians” soccer plaque is sure to bring a smile. So, to all those parents on the sideline who used to scream at me to “get up!” and “get in the game!” while I was happily sitting in the goal drawing in the dirt with sticks – y’all couldn’t break me.

Finally, in closing: I was kicking around Wikipedia last night and decided to enter in my old hometown in Florida, just to see what they had to say about it. The Wikipedia article contained a link my old burg’s official homepage, and on that homepage I found a link to a Frequently Asked Questions section. Hmmm… I wonder what the town’s most frequently asked questions are? Turns out they’re mostly routine: where can I plant trees, when can I water my lawn, and how do I apply for a building permit. Then I saw this one: “Why do we charge for water that comes out of the sky?” I just had to chuckle at the elementary school phrasing, let’s read it again : “Why do we charge for water that comes out of the sky?” Hahaha, it “comes out of the sky.”

Guys, before I go, I thought I’d tell you a story. Tonight I made one of my first legitimate online music purchases. Ever since I found out today that the band that made my 3rd/2nd favorite album of last year has a new “tour only” EP out there, I just had to hear it. After I consulted the “usual” places and came back empty-handed, I broke down and bought the entire album from galleryac.com. Go me for supporting the artists, or whatever.

Goodnight.

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no shirts, no shoes, no problem


Back in California, fresh off our extended Florida hiatus. Keaton was once again outstanding on the long two-leg flight: sleeping, keeping herself entertained, or flirting with passengers and crew. She once again proved my fears unfounded. I’ll be honest, I didn’t really feel like leaving; things are nice in Florida, but I think a large part of that is because I don’t live in Florida – and it’s associated with vacation in my head. I kind of feel off the blogging wagon while there, skipping some days due to lack of desire, and then yesterday lost to travel – I’ll do my best to make up for that by whipping my typing fingers back into shape over the next couple weeks. Dreading going back to work, of course, frightened of the load that will stretch out before me. Not wanting to catch up on lawn mowing, or unpack the suitcases United had to tag “heavy” due to their seam-bustingness.

I must warn you that I have nothing to offer today. However, before I close this thing prematurely – I did finally make a belated update to Keaton’s gallery, adding a series of pictures from the latter half of our Florida visit. And, what’s more, I managed to upload a short set of non-Keaton-focused Florida images which you can check out right here.

Deal with it, goodnight.

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tropicasual


Been a week in Florida now and my thoughts of returning to work next Wednesday are slowly creeping into my head. I don’t want to go back to work; wouldn’t mind staying here another several weeks actually. We’ve been having a good time, once again doing the packed-schedule vacation that I both love and hate. Love it for the vacation part, sorta hate the scheduled slots of visitation and obligatory visits – sometimes you just want to do nothing. But, we got to see nearly all the friends and relatives we wanted to, and even had some decent down time. Whatever, I hate writing these show-and-tell bits. Let’s move on.

Maybe we’ll do some one-liners.

  • Had a terrible dream last week, one of my coworkers told me they were considering suicide and I shrugged it off. I later walked into a room to find him shot in the head. It was a graphic scene, the kind that, upon waking, I feel a bit queasy for inventing. Woke up with a stinging feeling of guilt and sadness, like I could’ve prevented something awful.

  • Earlier this week I talked about the lush-jungle that is Florida’s natural foliage. While Kyle and I drove around last week, we wondered at the dense growth just 10ft off the side of the road. The greenery is not unlike a wall, solid and thick and double-overhead in height. You can’t see one foot past the first rank of trees and vines and bush. We began imagining the landscape back before humans clear-cut to put in roads and shopping malls. What the state must’ve looked like to conquistadors and early settlers: An impenetrable stand of swamp and jungle and sand filled with beasties like snakes, alligators, and mosquitoes. Baking in the humid heat of summer, the place must’ve seemed a green-choked Hell.

  • Friday my old, old, old friend Kyle and I took a “nostalgia roadtrip” around our old central Florida stomping grounds. As an aside to the trip, we decided to stop at one of the many flea markets that spring up around the bigger highways. The market we chose is one of the larger ones, comprised of one long central row and several fingers jutting from it both east and west – all of them filled with shops on either side and down the center. Walking the aisles, I couldn’t help but think about how similar the place looked to a “night market” in Taipei or Shanghai. Random cellphone accoutrement’s piled high, cheap toys and tools with Chinese characters on the packaging. Many of the vendors at these cheap-goods booths appear to be native Taiwanese folks, unloading vanfuls more of junk.

  • Been getting buckets of comment spam on my Coppermine image gallery lately, and I have no obvious recourse aside from disabling anonymous commenting altogether (which, in my opinion, has a detrimental effect on commenting in general). I did see a catchpa plugin for an older version of Coppermine, but haven’t invested any time in seeing if I can adapt it or if an updated version exists. Stupid comment spam; right now I’m just deleting them as they come.

That’s enough for today, first Monday I’ve missed a gallery update for Keaton in a long while. Look for something tomorrow. Goodnight.

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sustained, i have to assume


Spent some time early Wednesday morning reading over the various “half” best-of lists on various music ‘zines and blogs. Queued up a bit of the more intriguing sounding stuff and now have a folder of “prospects” sitting on my desktop just waiting for me to listen to it. I’m hoping there’ll be a few gems in there. I think I’ll fire them up tonight at bedtime. (These are the things I look forward to.)

My dad called me today, asked me sarcastically “David, when are you gonna quit smoking?” Obviously, he’d read my thick-headed lament over another bout of social smoking gone wrong. “I thought you had a college degree,” he chided, “Thought you were smarter than that.” Yeah… I should be. I don’t smoke, I just sometimes get caught up in the moment when out throwing darts and flipping beer mats. I had promised myself that, when Keaton came, I wouldn’t “indulge” anymore… and I’m still working on that. Thing is, in reality, even a cigarette or two once a month can likely eff up my lungs – so it really does make sense to stop joking about it like it’s an accident every time. Maybe I’ll make a half-year resolution to end the social smoking tout de suite.

I remember when my family moved to Florida, I had just completed the 5th grade in California. Someone had told my mom that there were no trees in Florida. I had visions of some flat, barren beach landscape – void of green. As soon as we got on the ground, I knew whoever my mom had spoken to must’ve visited a different Florida. Florida’s thick with growth; like a green jungle. Trees crowd together along the roadside, some clad with vines and what the Floridians call “airplants.” There was more green in Florida than I’d ever seen in the brown summers of California. Driving around now, I can’t imagine a place this wet being anything but lush. The air is so heavy with water the sun-bleached fenceboards have green blooms on them – sustained, I have to assume, by the humidity alone.

I think three paragraphs is good for vacation, no? Until tomorrow then.

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family ties


Lazy Tuesday spent July 4th’ing it: grilling bulk-purchased burgers and hot dogs, walking down to the river for a front row seat to the shuttle launch, taking a dip in the 80° pool, and otherwise sitting around watching television. American to the core; I even drank a Budweiser in honor of Florida. It was cool seeing a shuttle launch, I’d forgotten how neat it is to watch. I had planned to take Keaton down to the river to watch the launch, having artistic visions of a picture with her looking skyward and the smoke trail winding upward in the background. Alas, she was down for a nap when the countdown hit four minutes and it was time to start walking.

At night we walked back down to the river (it’s just down the road here) to watch the fireworks show. Keaton slept through the entire thing, clutched close to mom’s chest in her sling. It was a great time, felt very “family” sitting there with my wife, daughter, and inlaws. The only thing that could’ve made it better would’ve been if I’d not knelt in a fire ant hill to snap some pictures of the festivities. After the finale, we headed back to the house to play around with some of those supersized sparklers, which resulted in some really cool pictures that I’ll post later.

That’s it folks, don’t much feel like writing.