Date:                           November 25, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0830

            I have chastised the lovely state of Florida previously for being a little bit disingenuous in their travel brochure and on their license plates.  They do promote this whole “Sunshine State” thing quite heavily.  They lie, and today is a fine example of the proof of that statement.  I realize that I am to get very little if any sympathy from too many people as I pound away at my blog setting next to an open window enjoying the gentle, refreshing breeze of a tropical morning.  There is no snow and there is none predicted in the near millennium.  The temperature is in the low 70s and it is yet 9:00 in the morning.  But, there is no sun.  There is not even the hint of the prospect of a glimpse of the sun in the near future.  It is grey, and foggy and might as well be New York except, of course, for the comfortable soothing breeze that gently blows in my window.

            I am not asking for sympathy.  I know I would receive all of none if I did.  I am just reporting our day from my perspective and they lied.  There is no sunshine in Florida today and that is just how it is.  I do realize that this is Florida and by the time finish this diatribe there could be a bright sunshine day awaiting me outside my window.  There could be, but today I fear that is not going to happen.

            We are 5 days and a wake up call away from our excursion and, would you believe, that our bags are packed and we are almost ready to go?  If you know my wife you would.  She plans well and follows her plan.  I, on the other hand, just try to stay out of the way and complain about a foggy day in paradise.  We are both very good at our assigned tasks.

            We are doing so well, or should I say she is so well, that we had a chance to watch a new release DVD last night.  It was “Angels and Demons” with Tom Hanks and directed by Ron Howard.  We rented it from a Red Box, but that is another story.  It was a movie that made it to our “we want to see it” list after we both finished reading the book.  By the time we had finished the book the movie had left the local theaters so we had to wait until it was released on DVD.  Which it was, yesterday.  My advice is read the book.  The actors are great.  How could Tom Hanks be bad?  Ron Howard is a good director and the movie takes place in Rome.  All of this is good.  Connie and I love Rome and have visited most of the places depicted in the movie.

            We thoroughly enjoyed the book and could literally not put it down until we had finished it.  Dan Brown is an awesome story teller and does and excellent job of captivating his readers and holding them until the explosive end of his stories.  If we had not read the book we might have even enjoyed the movie.  Or problem is that we did read the book and have serious questions as to weather the movie adaptation was taken from the same story.  There were characters missing, events changed and parts of the story ignored.  I am not sure if that was done to save time, save money or the screen writher just never read the book.  What ever the reason, the movie is lacking a lot. It will not make it to our, “we must have this movie” list, and probably will not be seen by us again.  The movie was, however, worth every penny we spent to rent it.  It was a free offering from Red Box because I am a new customer.  Save the money and don’t buy or rent the movie.  If you must, buy the book and truly enjoy the story and when you finish you could send it to Ron Howard.  I seriously question if he has ever read it.

            My blog is finished. I complained about the weather.  I complained about the movie we watched last night.  And I filled my page plus with drivel that you have spent the better part of the last few moments reading.  I have had a productive morning so far.  I hope yours improves quickly.

5  DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 24, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0800

            I know, I skipped yesterday, but there is a reason and of courses that is the subject of my blog this morning.  We spent the early part of yesterday either having breakfast or doing laundry. Neither of which are very exciting, but they are what was happening at the bus.  The lack of excitement is not why I decided against a word tomb.  This has never stopped before and was not the sole reason for the lapse yesterday.  The reason was that I just did not want to talk about the previous day just yet.

            Sunday at our house is not so unfamiliar to most people.  We are too lazy to get up early enough to go to church most Sundays.  We watch a couple of the talking heads on TV and eat our breakfast and as the afternoon approaches we prepare for a day of football.  This Sunday we had planned for a junk day of snacks and bad food to enjoy American’s past time of unhealthy food, nachos and football.  It was going to be a Sunday and the Bills had a new coach so you never know.

            Our day was pretty normal except for one small moment which was to get in the way of my Monday morning blog.  The food was good, the nachos were spicy and the Bills lost.  So far it seemed pretty normal.  The Jets also lost, but the Giants won, so it was not a total lost day and there was, seemingly, a slight silver lining in the day’s cloud.  The glitch in the typical American Sunday was between the last talking head and the first kick off.  I decided to go to the campground office and get our awaiting mail.  That was to be a big mistake, or at least a wet blanket for the ensuing hours.

            Our mail had arrived on Saturday, but why should I be in hurry.  I picked it up mid Sunday morning.  In our package from Texas were some medications that we expected, some magazines we really don’t read and a couple of letters.  Most of the mail was very normal until Connie handed me the 4 page letter form the wonderful state of New York that informed us that we were to be audited for our 2006 taxes.  Now is that the tax form I filed in 2006 or is that the form I filed in 2007 for the money we earned in 2006?  I can never get that straight.  The four page letter was about a page and a half of information that, summarized, said I had misreported a portion of our income and now I owed the state of New York over $2000 dollars. That was about $5 dollars in taxes and $1995 dollars in penalties or something like that.  Just as we are preparing for a 25^th anniversary cruise this was not good news.

            After I picked up my stomach, that had dropped through the floor, I decided that I needed to start digging through our records and try to figure out what had gone so wrong.  Had I made a mistake?  Were we going to be arrested and placed in jail for tax evasion?  Was life ever fair?  Could I ever erase the depressed look on my wife’s face?  All of these question and, I am sure, many more had to be answered, but it was Sunday and if I started on Monday that would be soon enough and our financial consultant would be at work if I needed help.  It was back to football.  With 2 out of 3 of our teams forgetting to win it was not to be a great day.

            We awoke Monday with the same fear and angst hanging over our heads plus we had a pile of laundry to attack.  This should answer any questions about my blog yesterday.  We managed to get our laundry done and enjoy a very good senior lunch at Friendly’s.  I am sure a blog will emanate from the senior lunch experience at Friendly’s at some time in the future.  It was now time to start pulling records and files to attempt to understand what this _ _ _ _ letter was trying to tell me.  After rereading the letter, I realized that it was about an error in reporting a pension payment.  I don’t get a pension payment, my wife does.  It is not my problem, it is hers.  Wrong attitude!!!  It is still our problem.

            I called New York for some guidance.  I was sure this was going to be a big mistake, but I had no better plan at this moment.  I was very lucky in contacting a very nice and helpful young lady that guided me through the process.  There was a 1099-R form that they did not have that would have properly reported Connie’s pension. It was not my fault, but rather an error on their part. All I needed to do was make a copy of the form and send it to them and all would be forgiven and corrected.  To the little girl on the New York end of the call this was very oh-hum.  To the old fart in Florida this was 2000 pound weight off of his and his wife shoulders.  She said, “Oh well things happen and mistakes do occur.”  I had to go change my shorts.  By shortly after noon the problem had been addressed, the paper was in the mail and Connie had most of the laundry put away.  It was back to a pretty normal day in Daytona.  Although the Bills did loose, but I guess that is a pretty normal day also.

            We are back on schedule to leave for our cruise, the bank account is not quite as depleted as I feared, and I have learned that all of those paper I keep stuffed in my file cabinet are not just excess weight.  By next Monday the Bills will have lost again, we will be a bit further south in Florida and I will be preparing to blog from the MS Noordam as we set sail for the Caribbean on the celebration of our 25^th anniversary.  Thank you New York, but please don’t screw up again, I am running out of antacid.

6  DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 22, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0900

            Blogs are an interesting place to spend your time.  It is an adventure for me on most mornings as I place my laptop on its platform called my lap and I contemplate as to just what it is I am going to expound upon this morning.  It is a project that I restarted because Connie and I have planned a 25^th anniversary cruise and I wanted to save our memories to our blog.  In order to get in the habit I needed to get in the practice of scheduling my time to write my blog.  It may be a big secret, but I read these ramblings also and so does my wife.  We actually like reminiscing at times.

            There are days that I arise and just find no good reason to bore myself or anyone else with my garbled opinions  I try not to let these days take too much control because as I age and wish to reflect on my past thoughts and experiences I can use these days of aimless ramblings as a reference point.  It is the days of nothing that give meaning to the days of something.  I could “Twitter” my life with 140 characters at a time, but what fun would that be?  Besides reading a blog seems such a better use of a person’s time than to just view some ones tweet.  “Tweeting” is something a bird does, not a prolific bull artist like myself.

            I am sure that, as usual, it is about now that anyone that has stumbled on to this Oz-land of mystery starts wondering just what that _ _ _ _ _ is he getting at?  It is really quite simple.  In Tweet language, “My wife and I went to the movies.”  How boring is that?  And yet it is really quite wonderful to go on a date with your wife.  And what better date than to attend a new release move, popcorn in hand and large soda to share with your soul mate? 

            The movie was “Blind Side” if you really care.  It is a true story about Michael Oher and it stars Sandra Bullock and Tim McGraw.  I will let you do your Google research and self investigation to learn about the movie.  We enjoyed the acting, the story and the feeling of reward as the movie came to a finish.  It is a chick flick, sort of, but it is about a starting left tackle that is a rookie playing for the Baltimore Ravens so a guy can sneak in and if he hides his tissue who would know.

            It was not the movie that made the day special; although it was well worth the ridiculous 13 dollars it cost to see it.  It was not the popcorn bathed in butter that made the day, but for some reason popcorn purchased for the terribly overpriced movie theater fee always taste better when procured at the movies.  It certainly was not the large cup of soda that made the day.  Yet, somehow the day seemed to be special.

            Our movie theatre is located on the beach and as we waited the few moments for our show to begin we could sit in the lobby and watch the Atlantic Ocean roll onto the beautiful white beach at Daytona.  This, alone, is enough to make our day very special.  We happen to choose the weekend that was also the release for a couple of other rather popular movies, one of which had something to do with vampires and werewolves and a Twilight series.  If this did not add to the special feeling for our date it did add to the number of people joining us at the theater on their and our special day. 

The charm of our day was more personally enjoyed.  It is always special when we can set aside a time to enjoy the pleasures of a simple date.  It is a chance to step out of our normal routine and anticipate a few moments of simple pleasure with a very special person.  If you add a bag of butter laden popcorn and a pretty darn good movie, then you have a super day.  It was a simple day with a memory to share with my wife.  I would guess that that is pretty special day on any ones evaluation.  You might want to go and see the movie.  It is worth the time, effort and even the price.  You might want to dig deeply into your pocket and purchase the bag of popcorn, soda and bath of butter. It is, mysteriously, so much better than Orville’s micro waved anything.  But most of all you must find a way to find a little time to sneak away on a date with your partner.  It will be from this little effort that warm and large memories are nurtured and grown.

By the way we came home to a dinner of homemade soup and a bottle of very fine red wine with a baguette of French bread.  Memories just keep on growing and my blog will just keep on going. 

8 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 21, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0930

            We are quickly approaching one of those, “I know where I was when …..” days.  It is, of course, tomorrow and I do remember very well where I was when the news was delivered to our World History Teacher during class.  The fact that anyone in school dared interrupt her class was enough to warn all of the attentive students in her room that something very monumental had happened.  When Mrs. Fox returned to her position in front of the class after answering the messenger at the class door she wore a saddened and forlorn face that I will never be able to remove from my memory.  She immediately relayed the devastating news to us and promptly suspended class.  I do in deed remember where I was on November 22, 1963.

            The crispness of the pictures in my memory belies the fact that it was nearly half a century ago.  I have children that have children that have been born since then.  We all have lived a history book full of life in the past 46 years and yet I still can see the tear filled eyes of my World History Teacher as she slowly walked from class room door to her lecture position at the head of the class. 

Mrs. Fox had been a strong and wonderful teacher that dragged this lack luster history student up from the doldrums of a lazy student to the pinochle of an honors student in history.  On my first test I pulled my typical non effort grade of 70 something and was somewhat satisfied.  I had passed and isn’t that all htat maters?  Mrs. Fox requested my presence in her late afternoon activity period to discuss my effort in her class.  She, in a very succinct manner, informed me that she did think I had put enough effort into my studies and that she was a much better teacher than my 70 might imply.  I was to be allowed the time I needed to place a little more effort in my studies and I could retake the test.  Of course since it was the second time I was to take a test on the same information I would be allowed to achieve nothing less than a 95.  She hinted that a 100 might be more in my best interest.

            Mrs. Fox also told me that she thought I had a keen interest in history and that if I placed just a little effort in her class I could find it to be very rewarding.  To this avail she was willing to have me join her activity period so that I would be close to her if I should ever need any help.  Now in the old days of school activity period was the last period of school and time when most socialization and fun happened.   I was going to be allowed to forgo all of that fun so that I could study history.  Whoppee!!!!!  The other part of the deal I was going to accept no matter what I wanted was that as a special student of hers I was to achieve a minimum of 90 on all first test attempts and, if for some unknown reason, I did not I was to achieve a 100 on any retake.  I ended my honors history that year with a very high average.  But more importantly I ended that year with an undying love for history that remains with me to this day.  All because a teacher would not allow me to give less than she felt I should.

            I digress from my, “Where were you when” opening for no real good reason. It is just that as I begin these wordy blogs I often have no idea where I am headed and the rekindling of one memory just softly lead me to another.  I am sure that there is, hidden someplace in my meandering, a moral to this story.  Trauma will always leave a “bookmark” in your memory.  Once an old memory arise from the ashes of your mind it seems to ignite synapse that are, in some way, connected or relevant.  It might also be that through everyone’s life a person or moment will direct change or an attitude adjustment that will, forever, guide you in life.

            I am not sure if there is a moral to this mornings diatribe, but I now have to go back and continue reading my “pleasure” book “A Team of Rivals.”  There may be a test later and I don’t dare get less than a 90. 

            If you were, where were you 46 years ago tomorrow?  I will bet you can remember that much better than you can remember what you did 3 weeks a go.  By the way who was you most influential teacher?  If they are still alive write them a note and say thank you for being a positive guiding light in your life.  I will bet that they remember you also.

 9 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 20, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0900

            We went to the beach yesterday, now there is a surprise, and enjoyed the beauty of the Atlantic Ocean up close and personal.  The beach at Daytona is how this place got its fame.  It is even why that overly large parking lot called a raceway is located right in the middle of the city.  The original Daytona race was on the beach.  Now the speed limit on the sand is much lower.  It is posted at 10 mph and most people do a good job of obeying the signs.  The single section of the beach that we frequent is about 6 miles long.  Yesterday we decided to drive the full length of the beach area and it took us just over an hour.  That is 12 miles round trip at 10 mph.  It is a worthy use of a person’s time to ride along the waves as they slowly wash ashore onto the pristine white sandy beach.  But then that is why we came to Daytona and why we are having a very hard time leaving.

            It is a personal pleasure to enjoy the beauty of nature at the sea shore and to enjoy being a part of nature. It is even more rewarding to see how many other people find means and reason to also position themselves on the sand, usually book in hand, to soak up the late autumn sunshine and bask in the warmth of a Florida day.  Some seem to be reflecting on the problems of the cosmos as they recline in their chairs, eyes closed, and minds wandering as they listen to the rhythmic calm of the ocean waves gently washing ashore.  On this day the waves were a bit livelier than on some other days as the rolling blue-green water formed 2 or 3 foot crest and crashed a hundred feet or so off shore and then smoothly washed on to the beach.  With the crashing waves, a warm Florida sun, and a book in hand it is little wonder why so many people were reclining, eyes closed and contemplating their navel.

            We had taken our bikes to the beach and expected to, again, ride along the sand and enjoy chasing the birds, but the wind deterred us from our plans.  The ride down wind would have been great, but somehow Mother Nature finds a way to make the return trip all uphill and twice as far.  And on a flat beach that is quite a marvelous event.  We wisely choose to, instead. Use our motorized mode of transportation to enjoy the beach ride and will save the more physical excursion for another visit.

            Our evening was planned around another foray into to culinary excellence.  Connie and found a recipe for Sichuan pork in her new cookbook.  My job was to help her turn this book temptation into reality.  I was not in charge of making the special sauce.  I was not in charge of combining the fresh and frozen ingredients to form a beautifully balanced presentation of culinary taste wonders.  I was not even in charge of stir frying the ingredients to a doneness of perfection.  I did, however, wield the knife that cut the pork loin into wrong sized pieces for cooking.  The recipe called for half inch slices.  We all know how well men can estimate size and often exaggerate and misrepresent reality with actuality.  We also know how well women can take a slight miscalculation make it seem perfect.  My half inch slices that were a lot closer to a quarter of an inch tasted wonderful and were cooked to perfection.  The meal was purely a trip into gourmet heaven.

            Did I mention that part of my duties on this night’s list of culinary chores was to help consume the resulting product?  This was a job which I handled with great aplomb and no lack of style.  I not only cleaned my first plate serving, but quickly lined up for seconds.  Sadly, the leftovers that Connie had planned for did not seem to exist at the end of the meal.  What did exist was a new recipe to file in our, “We Want This Again” category.

            To some this day may not seem like it was an overly exciting day.  We did spend a good share of the day’s time enjoying the beauty of nature seated along the ocean shore.  It is a place that will always be near and dear to our hearts.  We did soak in the warmth of a warm afternoon Florida sun as we allowed the eternal rhythmic sounds of nature’s lullaby sooth our thoughts.  And, we did finish the day with a gourmet meal created and consumed in our own little abode, with the accompaniment of a wonderful chardonnay.  If yesterday was not an overly exciting day, I am sure that it was a most definitely keeper.

            Today we have been greeted with clouds and haze, but that is not a totally bad thing.  We will, tomorrow, approach the single digit countdown to our anniversary cruise and I am sure that there are a few things that need to be accomplished.  I am also sure that Connie will do most of them, but I am always here to supervise and get in the way.  Isn’t that what men are supposed to do.   That is after they finish their measuring.

10 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 18, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0815

            I entered my space ship and took a trip back in time last night.  It was not a long journey.  Just a few miles up the road and around a few blocks in Deland, Florida and Connie and I found ourselves at the Stetson University lecture hall, or at least one of them.  It felt like a step back in time as we walked into the lecture hall and took our seat near the back of the large auditorium at our school desk.  I don’t remember it being this much fun and entertaining the first time I experienced this sensation of attending a college lecture.  But the surroundings sure did bring back some memories.

            A few notes of reference and observation before I continue.  The audience was very eclectic in age and stature.  There were the obligatory student aged participants, along with many geriatric, slow moving, old duffers like myself.  There were a few people taking notes, some on small note pads, and others on laptops.  I used the back of a piece of scrap paper.  After the lecture the professor remained to answer any questions we might have and I noticed that just about every younger student aged member of the gathering sprinted for the doors and most of the seasonally aged participants remained behind to garner as much more information as was possible.  I will let you form your own opinions on these facts; I just wanted to share the observations.  I also noted that the older the participant the earlier they seem to arrive and the latter they seemed to leave.

            The lecture was on Mayan facts and fantasies about 2012.  With the advent of the new media emphasis on the up and coming December 21, 2012 celestial alignment and the Mayan long count calendar coming to an end on that date, plus the new movie it was easy to understand the standing room only atmosphere in the lecture hall.  The professor was very pleased to see the first 20 or so people arrive early.  He thought that was a large turn out for his evening lecture series.  By the beginning of the lecture every seat in the room was full and there was, literally, standing room only.

            At just a little past seven, that was to allow the late college students to arrive and get seated, the lights went down and the computer display screen lit up and we were off on a tour of Mayan myth and reality.  Of course, there were a few bumps on the start of our journey.  The microphone battery died 2 minutes into his lecture and the room sound system did not like taking to the professors PC.  Luckily the professor had a strong voice and the room was spotted with enough young electronic wonks to get the PC problem solved and the lecture “proceeded on.”

            I will not recap the whole evening’s information.  You can either go to the movie for Hollywood’s version of the upcoming calamity, or go to any book store for the educated entrepreneur’s version of the cosmic shift in existence that we are all to experience on the winter solstice of the year 2012 when we are galactically aligned and when the Mayan long count colander comes the end of the 13th Pik.  These are events that happen only once in 26,000 years in the galaxy and once in 5200 years according to the calendar.  To have them happen on the same day is kind of cool and special and should be noted one could argue. 

The Mayan people have no idea what we are talking about.  There myths and prophecies are not nearly as exciting as Hollywood would have us believe.  There is, still existing, only one Mayan prophecy recorded on any tablet or form that refers to the end of the long count calendar and it is missing the most important relevant information due to the erosion of age and degradation of the rock on which it is carved.  This, of course, has not stopped a very lucrative industry from starting up to scare us as we approach the date of December 21^st, 2012.  I will allow you to do some research and form your own apocalyptic opinions on 2012.  You still have a little over 2 years to either laugh it away or find a secluded cave in which to hide as the continents shift, or the oceans over flow, or the cosmic alignment pulls the Earth apart, or we are again visited by the alien space creature that placed us here some umpteen thousands of years ago.  I will pass on a bit of information that I garnered from this professor of Mayan history and culture.  That is that you might want to continue paying your mortgage, and car payments, and you might not want to move all of your belongings to some tick invested cave in Bolivia.  But the choice is yours.

The best part of last night was the exuberance of youth felt as I sat in this lecture hall partaking in the sharing of information and education.  It was telling to see the young leave early and the old stay late as that education process was acting out before my eyes.  I can not speak for everyone in that hall last evening, but for me, I know that education is so very wasted on the young.  It is with age and experience that we learn just how much we do not know.  I know that many of us have already lived through our genius years, usually our late teens through our early twenties, but some of us are learning that it is really surprising how smart our parents become the older we get.

Go now and dig a hole to hide in or find a cave in which to seclude yourself from the forth coming calamity or maybe just live each and every day to its fullest and damn the predictions.  It is not an old Mayan prophecy but just an old adage that says; “Each day is a gift, that is why it is called the present.”

12 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 17, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0830

            When do you finally realize that the world has left you in the dust of electronic advancement?  Is it when your grandson is no longer asking you about computers, but instead showing you the computer that he has just finished building from scratch?  Is it when you find out that the whole world is texting and you can’t figure out how to put that smiley face on your e-mail?  Or is it when you find our that your favorite book store is now selling a $259.00 dollar electric reader that will allow you to carry 1500 books with you at all times and still allow you to download the latest “need to read” offering?  When do you realize that you are in the stone age of electronic enlightenment?  I don’t know, but I think I am there.

            I am very glad that my grandson took the effort and has the ability to build his own computer.  He researched every component and processing piece of his new baby and now has a computer that leaves mine in the dust.  A young man that once reveled at his grandfather’s expertise is now showing off his talents in a technology that so quickly left me in the lurch.  This is not a bad thing, but it is a real thing and a sign of the advancing times.  I am no longer a source of information for him, but my grandson is continuing to be large source of pride for me.

            I will not even get into texting.  It is an art that I have purposely failed to enjoy.  My sister has been light years ahead of me in this category for sometime.  She can text a full message faster then I can dial a phone number.  And, most of what she text is probably spelled correctly. We all know what the chances of that happening with me as the words flow from my fat fingers might be.  I still am not sure why I should spend half an hour punching my cell phone to figure out what I want for dinner when a 2 minute phone call would satisfy all my dilemmas.  I may not understand, but I fear our next cell phone will be text enabled.  You can only resist progress for jus so long.

            The final straw to my realization that I am sadly being left behind in the world of today’s electronics was my last visit to Barnes and Nobel.  On the counter as we were checking out and paying for our new book additions I noticed an advertisement for a new “reading machine” called the Nook.  It is a paperback sized electronic display devise that can carry a library full of books for your reading pleasure.  It will allow you to connect to B&N at nearly any place in the universe and download the latest and greatest Sarah Palin fantasy novel.  All for anything from free to about $9.99 a book.  You can even still go to the local book store, buy a cappuccino and sit in a comfy chair and read any book you want for free over their in store wifi.  When did I get left behind in the electronic revolution?

            I am not sure if all of this is good or bad.  I am, also, not sure I have given up the struggle to remain behind in the last century just yet.  My grandson and granddaughter do not still fit on my lap and will, I fear, have lap fillers of their own all too soon.  I will, probably, soon have some kind of a devise that will send gibberish through the cellular air, although I am sure most of it will be misspelled.  But do I have to give up the pleasure of holding a real book in my hands.  One that smells of ink and paper and might even offer me a paper cut once in a while as a reminder that it too has a spine and feelings.  Do I have to relinquish the pleasure flipping page after age as I either float through a tomb of fluff prose or a deep theological investigation of some historic event?  Must I give up the comforting feeling of paper for some cold plastic electronic impersonality called a Nook?  Can’t I fight the advancing revolution for just a few more years?

            It is time for me to stop my whining for today as I put away my electronic paper and pen and prepare to magically send my diatribe forth into the netherland of cellular service to make it available to any one in the world that may be sorry enough to accidentally stumble on to it in the cyber world.  I know, I have lost the war and the solid-state soldiers of modernization are already victorious.  But, today, as I continue my reading of  “A Team of Rivals” I will turn each page, one sheet of paper at a time, and I won’t push a plastic touch sensitive button on the side of a cold electronic display terminal.  I will do that today, but one must contemplate just how much longer that choice will be available.

13 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 15, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0930

            The grey of the previous days melted away and Florida returned to the crystal blue skies of a tropical paradise again.  The temperature, in Daytona Beach, did not quite make it to the tropical realms, but we gladly accepted the high 70 degree temperatures and warm breezes.  After spending entirely too much time inside our RV we decided it was a beach day and off to the ocean we ventured.

            We had a scrumptious dinner planned of Cajun catfish and wild rice so we decided against the usual picnic lunch and instead packed our new bikes and proceeded down Speedway Blvd toward the beautiful white beaches of Daytona.  This was our thousandth time to drive to and on the beach and as usual we got to the gate just as some tourist realized that you had to pay to drive on the world famous Daytona Beach. We patiently waited for them to figure out how to make a U-turn in the middle of the road and then proceeded to the gate.  We had purchased a season pass when we first got to Daytona Beach and now just have to stop and have our pass scanned as we pass pleasantries with fee collector.  We have found that the purchase of the seasonal pass was a very economic investment for us and pleasure that keeps giving.

            It is always a neat feeling to drive, literally, down to the ocean and then at the very last second take a turn to drive along the waves as they sweep in from, what was today, a slightly full ocean.  Normally at low tide the beach is very deep and has more than enough room for at least two lanes of traffic, a deep parking lot backed up to the deeper sand of the shore and still leave much room between the water and the people playing in the sand.  Today the waves were very close to and, at times, overlapping the driving lanes.  Leaving a much smaller area for the sea revelers it made the beach seem a bit more crowed than it truly was,  but we did find a very lovely secluded spot to park our car and enjoy our excursion to self pampering sun and sea.

            Our main objective on this visit was to enjoy our new Trek bikes on the beach and it was a beautiful day to do just that.  The southern end of the beach was pretty empty and allowed us a much uncluttered section of the beach to bike along.  The sun was just warm enough to make us comfortable but nowhere hot enough to hint that we needed to be any place other than where we were at that very moment.  We headed south along the beach and rode about 2 or 3 miles along the ocean chasing birds and fully enjoying the beauty of the day.  Our bikes worked wonderfully as we pedaled along the shore and tried to enjoy the warm breezes, blue skies and beauty of the Atlantic as she swept onto the pristine white beaches.

            After our 2 to 3 mile ride south we decided to turn around and head back to our car and our staked out beach area to enjoy the rest of the afternoon.  It was about 7 miles back north along the same beach.  We did not realize, as we pedaled south, that we had had a lovely breeze blowing at our back.  As we turned around and headed back into the breeze it became much more noticeable.  It was not impossible, but when we arrived at our little secluded section of the beach near our car we were aware that we had just completed a very pleasant bike ride.  Our legs said, “Thank-you” for finally getting home.  We got to use some of the lower gears on our bile and our chairs felt very good as settled into an afternoon of beach reading and pure laziness.

            Our day was completed with a dinner of cast iron skillet blackened catfish with wild rice and vegetables.  Add to that a glass or two of good white wine and you have a pretty great dinner.  Connie and I enjoy the fun of joining together in creating the evening repast.  Tonight it was my turn to man the skillet and Connie watched and created the delicious rice boiled in a specially season brew.  Golden Corral, eat your heart out.

            A simple day, and simple meal and special memory, it was a pretty good day.  I still remember a little bit of sage advise my father gave me as he was finishing his latter years.  He told me” If I did not have my memories I would be really depressed as I reach the end of my life.”  His sight was waning, his hearing all but a gone, but his memories were still sharp and the pleasure that filled his life.  He always promoted and supported my efforts to build memories for he knew there true values.

15 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

PS

On Twitter this would read:

We went to the beach, took a 6 mile ride and came home for a catfish dinner.

Date:                           November 14, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

1130

            A beautiful day in Florida can be clouded with reality at times and as I ponder this day’s offering I am dragged into a selfish fit of depression.  It may not be a dark pit of destructive depression, but a fit of self pity none the less.  I would share my angst and discomfort about the present, the past and the future, but it would only enlarge the area of depression and not necessarily lighten my personal load.  I often feel that depression is much like joy in its ability to be shared.  If it is held inside it is felt by one and if it is shared it is felt by all.  All too often we forget to share joy and inflict the pain of sorrow to all that will listen.

            I will now attempt to change the channel on my philosophical mental television, called a blog.

            As I looked out my front window I this morning I saw a stretch limo parked at the campground office.  It was long enough to have two zip codes. Most people would immediately start trying to figure out what famous and rich super star was visiting our little world.  Stretch limos must indicate a VIP or at least an ostentatious, self absorbed individual.  My immediate thought was; “I wonder if there is a telephone guy attending school near by us.”

            You might ask; “What is he talking about?”  Or, at least I might hope that you would ask that, because that is where my blog is heading this morning.

            One of my experiences as a phone employee was to attend a school just outside of Chicago.  We, of course, flew into O’Hare airport and had to arrange for transportation to the AT&T complex just out side of the city.  I had done my homework and found that the ride from the airport to school was to cost about $50.00 plus tip.  This was a few years ago.  I also found that I could rent a limo for the same amount of money.  I may not be smart, but a limo versus a smelly taxi, it did not take me long to make that decision.  As I walked out of the baggage area at that the airport a very nicely dressed man stood at the door with a sign with my name on it, and it was even spelled right.  I acknowledged his stately presence and was off on an adventure.

            The gentleman, in a very spiffy limo driver’s attire, took my bags and led me to a vehicle that looked like it stretched for a block and a half. It was a very long Lincoln with tinted windows and enough room inside to have a party.  The driver even called me mister.  You must remember that this was early in my phone company career.  In order for me to talk to the driver as we sped importantly through Chicago I had to use a phone that I thin k was in a different area code than his.  I really felt special and important, but I knew better. I knew who I was and where I was going and why I had chosen this method transportation.

            As we drove into the receiving area of the school I was startled to find that I was not the only person that had found out that ride in a limo was more fun and no more expensive than a taxi ride.  Both on arrival and departure the drive way to the school was lined with multiple stretch limos to drop off or pick-up telephone employees, like me.  We were all young entry level technicians working for phone companies all over the country that had been scheduled to attend the same school.  None of us were to ever be overly famous or important, and certainly none of us were ever to be overly rich.  We just needed a reasonably inexpensive way to get from the airport to the school and a limo provided just that.

            It is because of this that I am, to this day, not too impressed with a stretch limo when I see one.  I realize that they are often just a taxi with two zip codes and a lot of empty space inside.  Thats why, to this day, when I see a stretch limo go by being driven by a driver in a fancy little cap I wonder where the telephone guy is going to school.

            Please do not as me where this blog was supposed to take you. I am sure I do not know.  I just thought a ride down memory lane in a stretch limo was more fun than where I was headed when I started.  And some people think my blogs are off the wall sometimes.  I guess I have dispelled that rumor.  They are off the wall most of the time.

16 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 12, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0900

            It is a cool and dismal day in the sunshine state this morning.  As I watch the chill of a Florida morning from the comfort of my throne I can not help but be amused by the reaction of some of the people.  Some of the snowbirds that have collected at our campground are wrapped in their best winter fighting garb as they meander around a grey campground with a temperature in the low 50s.  Most are wearing some kind of outer garb that is more common north of the Mason-Dixon Line. As a rarity, it is difficult to fine a bare leg.  I did not even know that many pairs of jeans were carried from the frozen tundra to the tropical wonderland known as Florida.

            A typical if not comical example of the cool weather effect on the campers was the view two gentlemen on their morning walk.  One was dressed in his best worn out pair of jeans with a hat, gloves, a woolen shirt and an open mid calf length winter jacket.  He could have been headed out to the barn to milk the herd in any northeastern state.  Totally ready to brave the cold biting wind of a normal cutting cold autumn morning, this camper was well prepared to withstand the ravages of a cool Florida morning.  His companion, on the other hand, was a bit more intriguing.  He was in his normal Bermuda shorts, although he was wearing a sweatshirt.  Now, in the northeast this may be a normal combination, but in Florida it is quite abnormal.  Connie said he was just in denial.  As I contemplate this and write my blog, I sit here in my shorts. I guess I know in what state my wife would place me.

            I know that any person that has spent any time in the northeast will have minimal sympathy for us suffering waifs that must endure the rigors of a crisp autumn morning in Florida, especially when I tell you that the crisp autumn temperature in 54.  Yes a chilling 54 and expected to barely reach mid 70 by the peak if the day.  And yet, we snowbirds whine and cry about the cool, crisp autumn air we must protect ourselves from as we search through our clothing drawer for that warm sweatshirt we buried in there someplace.  I realize that there is little sympathy for some one that thinks a crisp autumn day is a desert on an all you can eat buffet.  54 is a warm afternoon in the real world north of the Manson-Dixon Line. Grey skies are the portending pleasures of no sleeting rain or snow if you are lucky if you happen to live in the northern wastelands.  And yet, here I am whining and crying about our cool morning.  I have had to turn off my air conditioning and close my windows and you are stoking the fireplace and turning up the thermostat dressed in your snuggly flannel long johns and warm hooded sweatshirt.  Do I dare ask for your compassion as I ponder the traumatic question of; “Should I get out my long jeans or just pull my socks up?”

            The grey clouds will depart as the day grows older and the temperature will return to its proper place on the thermometer.  I, sadly think we are sending the clouds towards the northeast.  A decision made by Mother Earth and the weather gods, not me.  I will think about you this weekend as Connie and I return to the beautiful white beach that makes Dayton the beautiful city it is.  We will think about the cold biting wind and the fear of the next snow storm that will certainly be in your most immediate future. We will think about you, but not too long and not to hard.  You see we have a major obligation and job to accomplish. We must work on our tans for our soon approaching cruise to celebrate our anniversary.  We will be enjoying the anniversary of the 25^th year of our wedding in St. Thomas in the US Virgin Islands.  I am just guessing, but I don’t think I will have to worry about finding that sweatshirt or those long pants, unless you consider the suit pants I will be wearing as we enjoy our dinner at the gourmet restaurant on the MS Noordam as we leave the port at St. Thomas for our next tropical paradise.

            Until then, stay warm.  It will look much funnier from my window here than it will from the snowman’s perspective of the northeast.  And as you wrap yourself in winter paraphernalia think sympathetically of me as I must contemplate the decision of when is it truly cool enough to justify long pants.

18 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 10, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0930

            I did not accomplish a lot yesterday.  As a matter of more accurate fact I accomplished just about nothing, but I will try not to allow that small fact stop me from boring the one or two people that might stumble on to my blog heaven.  I will, however, attempt to not delve into the dark dungeons of my opinionated mind.

            Our main chore yesterday was to mail a couple of letters.  For a retired couple settled into the sedated life of snowbird Florida this could be a moment.  For us it was not, but it needed to be done.  It was on our return to the campground that we noticed a collection of 8 or 10 egrets and herons in our campground retention pond.  It is worth noting that the retention pond is not retaining much water of late and birds were wading through a very wet swamp with barely enough water to cover their feet and certainly not enough to get their knees damp.

            I must admit that seeing a shallow pond surrounded by palm trees and blue sky is a beautiful sight.  Dot the wet landscape with a handful of white birds and one or two blue ones and the picture takes on a memorable tone.  It was this memorable tone and classic Florida landscape that I wanted to capture on my camera.  Connie and I hurried back to our campsite and I gathered my camera, my bike and headed off to pretend I was a photographer.

            The wind was blowing just a bit, or so I thought.  As a peddled down the street in our campground and made the turn toward the pond I was abruptly made aware of the fact that the wind was blowing quite a bit.  My old tired bike peddling legs found it nearly impossible to power my new bike forward.  The winds seem to push me back harder than I could push me forward.  I down shifted my bike, peddled a bit harder and pretended I was a Tour De France rider and leaned into the wind.  Camera flailing, legs pumping, and chest heaving with breaths of exhaustion I did make the pond pristine in its beauty and specked with the charm of long legged white egrets and heron feeding on what ever floated on the shallow pond surface.

            As I dismounted my ride and grabbed my camera for a collection of what I hoped would be awesome pictures someone must have called ahead to the lead bird.  In unison nearly every one of the idiots took to flight and showed me nothing but their tail fathers as they soared on the winds to ever increasing heights and well out of my camera’s range.  “Thanks a lot you pain in the butt birds.  I am too old to be breathing this hard just to snap a picture of an empty pond.  Do you have no compassion?”

            I was to realize the answer to my question was all too real.  They had no compassion.  I had no brains. And, my camera was to have few pictures.  I suppose if I were eating lunch in a secluded hideaway and some lumbering oaf came huffing and puffing on a machine toward me I might jump to the conclusion that this situation might lead to no good.  And I might opt to forgo any more lunch until the area returned to its solemn quiet.  Maybe the “bird brain” there was not in white feathers.

            I did get a few pictures although they were not quite as pristine has I had first imagined.  I did get to play with my camera.  And I did get some exercise on my bike. It was, by all thoughts, not a bad experience.  It even gave me something to add to my blog this morning.  It is not totally off the wall and probably will not anger anyone.  That is a pretty good combination.

            The moral of my story, if there could be one, may be that if you have the opportunity to capture one of life’s moments of beauty, do not let it pass with out making an attempt to accomplish the task.  As we have seen this morning you may not store away the memory that you had planned, but a memory will still me made and the beauty will live on in your soul.

20 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 9, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0830

            Connie and I have been at this campground in Florida for more than 4 months and it was not until yesterday that we had a real life picnic outside at our site.  It took us over 4 months to live like a camper at our campground.  It was not an elaborate picnic, but we had our Weber cranked up and the smell of cooking beef wafted through the campground and especially through our site.  This was not the first time we have used our Weber, for it has been a work horse this summer.  The part of this charcoal smelling, meat cooking, fresh air enjoying afternoon that made this a special picnic atmosphere was that we actually ate our creations outside at our picnic table. 

            This may not seem to be too exotic, unless you are living in Florida, especially in the summer.  We have learned that 90 plus degrees in the sweaty tropical climate of living on a sand bar is not the most conducive to enjoying the pleasures of outdoor living.  I must sadly admit that we have spoiled ourselves all to much by using our air-conditioning 7 days a week and 24 hours a day for entirely too much.  It is, however, how one manages to exist in the southeast if one is normal and a wimp.  We try to be the former and I am always the later.

            The last few days have been overly delightful in Florida.  The temperature has been in the high 70s to very low 80s with just the hint of a cool breeze.  Our air-conditioning has actually been off a lot more than it has been on and our windows have been open.  We even had our heat on once last week, just to cut the chill of early morning.  With this new climate environment we decided that we should move our bodies outside and enjoy the rest of our site.  We purchased some new lawn chairs, changed our table cloth to one that fit the season and spent all day enjoying the comfort of autumn in Daytona.  It would have been nearly perfect except that the Giants lost by 1 point, but that is another sad story for another sad meandering.

            Someday I should explain how we purchased our lawn chairs from an outlet store near Camping world.  Camping world was our first choice.  Where else would a camper go for camping equipment?  After some very disappointed realization that what Camping World had was made extremely cheaply and terribly over priced, we decided that our 60  mile drive was for naught when Connie noticed an expensive specialty sporting equipment store.  A few moments later we had purchased 2 very nice lawn chairs that were better made and cheaper than anything we could find at CW.  We mentioned this to our sales person and he looked as befuddled as we were.  How could they, a specialty shop, sell a product of higher quality for a lower price?  A price that was a good 20 per cent lower on a product that was made of quality metal and wood and no plastic.  Of course it was made in China, but than nothing is perfect.

            The hamburgers we great, reading as you recline in soft cool tropical breezes is nearly heaven and with our outside entertainment center we really do have the best of many worlds.  We may begin to enjoy the rather large lawn we have at our site and escapee from the confines of our bus.  We have even taken up riding our bikes again.  I guess it is true that as the heat and humidity regress the appearance of snowbirds does elevate.

            Time to go and enjoy another beautiful, pleasant day in Florida.

21 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 7, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0900

            Writing a blog is challenging as well as interesting.  I fear that those that choose to read my cerebral wandering find it much more challenging than they find it interesting on any given day.  And yet, here I am positioned in my “throne” as my lovely wife calls my chair and I am attempting to fill a page or so of my electronic paper with thoughts of a life that may not always be exciting and of much interest to the living world. I could ramble on with my wealth of hindsight knowledge and explain how the world we see unfolding before us would be so much better if they only did it my way.  I could explain how the life others live could be so much happier if they could only see their individual problems with the clarity and in-depth perception that I understand their lives to be.  Profundity is such an easy game to play. If only the world listened to me and valued my awesome opinions.

            There are many days when I get caught up in the wealth and depth of my own intelligence and can not help but share it with the world from my little soap box called “Travels with Aurora.”  Yesterday may well have been one of those moments.  Yet as I reflect on what I have expounded upon on my page of self valued opinions I can not help but place that moment into context of today’s environment.  Might I have said something that might at a future time be determined a flag as to the unstableness of my sanity?  There are, I would presume, many people that might wonder about the state of my sanity on any given day, at any given moment as it is.  It is a salient fact in today’s electronic world that once you have a thought, decided to share that thought and actually completed these tasks your opinions are open for the world to, at any time in the future, interpret and use as a base for their opinion of either you or your mindful meanderings.  Sadly today it may not be just your friends and family that are evaluating your postulations.

            It is from this sullen perspective that I start my blog this morning and after nearly half an hour I have progressed to absolutely nowhere, and with great aplomb I might add.  Writing a blog can be challenging even if not interesting, as I stated at the onset of this mornings offering.  I have far too many opinions on what is happening in our world to dare share them on a semi public forum.  My slightly extreme pacifistic liberal ideas are not always well received and seldom as fully understood as I had hoped they might be when I tried to formulate each sentence.  I may, at times, attempt to tweak an extreme opposing idea with literary sarcasm and usually accomplish irritation instead of enlightenment.  Thus failing in what ever my original desire might have been.  I should often apologize for my literary indiscretion, but that might mean I did not mean to accomplish what it probably was I so effectively did.  Poking an opposing political or social opinion in the eye is such fun and self rewarding sometimes.  I do realize that opinions are like some body orifices, we all have them. It is just that once I have gone to the trouble of formulating my own opinion I do so want to share my intellect with the world.  It is not that my opinions are always perfect, but they are always mine and certainly right.  That is until I change my mind.

            I have accomplished my goal of a page of thoughts.  You have now wasted nearly half an hour trying to figure out what it is I am trying to say and now I must go shopping for a present for my granddaughter.  That is really quite a bit to accomplish on any given Saturday morning.  I am off to Orlando in my shorts and short sleeved shit.  The sky is blue and the air is clear.  It is a bit cool today and may only reach the lower edge of the 80s, but I think we can adapt.  I still have my opinions, I still have my advise and I still think I have my sanity all of which I will, I am sure, attempt to share with you on a future visit to blog world.  Writing a blog is challenging and sometimes interesting and so very often a good means to waste an hour or so on a beautiful warm and breezy Florida morning.  Go forth and opine.

23 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 6, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

1000

            Previously I expounded on the pleasures of being a retired old duffer and the pleasure that can be found in the simplest of chores even cooking dinner.  The result of our endeavor was, indeed, all that great and worth remembering.  It was also the path to the presentation of the gourmet meal that will complete the memory in our minds.  Having the time and inclination to make the dinner meal a chance to become a memory is even a greater pleasure.  Being retired allows me to slow down enough to find these moments to enjoy.

            It is this slowed down aspect of life that was to lead me to my daily excursion into my blog world.  Having nothing important to do can cause a person to think and sometimes it can make a person think too much.  My thoughts were meandering into the realm of daily news or what ever that thing they present of TV as news really is.  It was not the specific story that was being presented, but rather the questions these events might ask of society and the health of society that caused me to ruminate a bit.

            Yesterday, the story that fueled my interest was about the house of murder in Ohio.  It was not a question, in my mind, of how a human can be that sick. For we all know that happens all too often.  It was, also, not a question of right or wrong.  There is never a right when one sick human takes the life of another and then repeats that horrific act.  The question that arose in my mind was how society can allow this to happen.

            How does a man entice multiple victims into a killing field located in the center of a large American city?  How does this happen and go unnoticed or not investigated.  I think this yells about the ills of society much more than it speaks of the ills one mind.  One mind was obviously sick and crying for help and yet society ignored the travesty that was being preformed right in front of its collective eyes.  We, as a society, seem destined to not become involved with our neighbors.  We seldom even know who our neighbors are or what they are doing.

            I was going to expound deeply and profoundly on this ill of society until I happened onto the news of the day yesterday.  An Army officer walked into a processing building on a very large Army post and killed 12 people and wounded over 30 others.  This act of terror happened on a secure United States military post.  The terrorist was allowed to infiltrate a large gathering of soldiers fully armed and bent on causing great havoc and destruction.  He seemed to do this in broad day light, dressed in full uniform and with little effort.  And yet my question is not about the total lack of security.

            My question, again, is about the status of society.  How do we allow an eighty year old feeble woman to be hand searched and embarrassed at a public airport?  We accept that we all must remove shoes in order for us board an airplane, yet we somehow allow a man to walk on to a military post armed and dangerous with little obvious thought.  It would seem, I my mind, a bit more dangerous to wave a “trained killer” through the security screening on a sensitive military installation than a it would be to allow a family to comfortably board a public transportation facility.

            I will not pontificate on my views.  I think there are many questions we should be asking ourselves.  But, they are questions that we should be asking ourselves and not fussing over how someone else might phrase the inquiries  We need to think about finding the root causes of the many ills our society is exhibiting.  I truly feel that none of these questions, much less the answers, are being postulated by anyone in the modern media or existing government.  Society needs to collectively and individually be a lot more reflective on more than the face of the problems and search for the causes of the societal manifestation of failures.

            There is a scene in “Patch Adams” that takes place in a mental health hospital where Patch Adams is asked to count the fingers on a fellow patient.  Patch answers 4, of course and the patient goes ballistic because the answer is so wrong.  He tells Patch to look beyond the problem to the answer.  Sometime have a person hold up his hand and you count his fingers.  Look beyond the “problem” or his hand and look for the root cause problem, or beyond his hand.  You will find your eyes blurring a bit and soon 8 fingers will appear.  I feel we, as society, need to look beyond the problem and find a few solutions.  But then I have always looked outside of the box.  I am afraid that I feel right now there are few solutions contained in our societal “box.”  Maybe we need to follow the advice of the mental patient in Patch Adams and not continue looking for our problems and concentrate more on searching for a few solutions.

24 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 4, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0900

            The life of a retired full time RVer can elicit stories of adventure and exploration that might make anyone enter into the realms of jealousy.  A cavalier wondering attitude of new horizons and new explorations might await the lucky people that live this life every morning and every day of their enviable life.  This can be true, but if you bothered to read the blog dated yesterday you might realize that reality is also a passenger on this bus of adventure.  Some days the sun is hidden, the clouds are gray, and the riders on this enviable bus are in a funk.  And yet, here we are fully enjoying the life we live and not yet willing or desirous of giving up the dream we are living.

            One of the pleasures of getting a bit older and not having mundane daily required chores to accomplish is that you can make a simple obligation as extraordinary as you wish.  A task that is performed by most people day after day can, if one wishes, takes on the mantle of adventure and can be a source of wondrous memories.  What, you ask, is he trying to say?  It is simple; actually, Connie and I cooked dinner last night.

            Now if I were to stop there the story would be told but he memory would be lost.  And, we all know that I do not sit in front of my laptop each morning just to keep a fact filled log of mundane daily happenings.  I would rather spend an hour and fill a page with long overly wordy descriptions of what it is we do all day aboard this bus on any given day.

            As I stated, Connie and I decided to cook dinner and, as usual this started with a conversation that went something like this;:

“What would you like for dinner?” 

“I don’t know what would you like?”

“What do we have and what would be easy?”

“The cupboards are empty so we can either have nothing or go and get something, so what do you want?”

            I am sure that most of you can visualize this exchange and see that it really has no good ending.  We decided finally to venture out on an adventure and see what materialized.  I felt like having some bay scallops and we had some left over whole wheat noodles.  With some imagination we might be able to find a dinner out of that if we could find some scallops.  Since we are near the ocean this should not be a big problem and off we head on an exploratory mission. Luckily we just happen to know about a fresh fish market just a bit down the road.

            We arrived at the market hungry and anticipating the pleasure of choosing the freshest and most tender bay scallops available.  The market had a wide variety of fresh fish, and some stuffed crabs which we purchased.  The problem began when we found that Daytona Beach does not seem to have fresh bay scallops.  They have a lot of very large ocean scallops, but we had decided on finding the smaller bay scallops.  What do we do now?  The conversation begins, somewhat like the one before, as we attempt to rethink our dinner menu.  After some pondering, some long salivating stares into coolers packed with fresh fish and an in depth discussion we purchased the afore mentioned stuffed crab and a beautiful salmon steak.  Now what do we do?

            On our way out of the parking lot and as we headed home we rearranged our menu and decided on a new gourmet feast for the evening.  Sautéing salmon in garlic butter and layering it atop some noodles may be fine, but it was not what we hungered to have for dinner.  A bed of fresh vegetables, ala Joe Aiello, some Italian seasoning and a baked salmon steak sounded much better.  It was time to head to the local grocery and search for the freshest garden produce and, of course, a nice bottle of white wine.  The only sad or negative part of our story is that Daytona Beach is not the center of gourmet cooking and as such we were relegated to doing our produce searching at the local Publix store.  Not a bad thing, but a minor glitch in our adventure.

            By the end of the day Connie and I had purchased all of the needed elements for a wonderful gourmet meal of steamed salmon cooked on a bed of fresh squash, zucchini, red and green peppers and tomatoes.  All of this was sautéed first in bath of olive oil and garlic.  For a wine we had a bottle of Blue Nun wine, our wedding dinner wine.  The vegetables were succulent and tasty and the salmon literally melted in your mouth. The stuffed crab augmented the meal with savory elements of spice and delicacy. And we balanced the meal with those leftover whole wheat noodles cooked in sun dried tomatoes.  It was an elegant meal that any chef would have been proud to present.  The colors, the aroma, the balanced presentation and the blessed taste were all out of this world.  It was special.

            The point of this story is not that we managed to cook a gourmet meal of which to be proud, all though we did.  The point was that Connie and I spent nearly a whole day planning, shopping and preparing an evening meal.  We shopped for fresh food, local produce and succulent fish.  We stood side by side as we sliced, diced and sautéed our meal together.  It is form this we will manufacture memories and it is form this that a message should arise.  When you are retired it may be easier, but we should all take a few moment so to slow down and take time to enjoy the simplest of daily chores. It is from the sharing of time with your loved ones that fond memories materialize.  Of course a dinner of steamed Italian seasoned salmon on a bed of sautéed fresh vegetables served with a wonderful bottle of wine is nice also.

26 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 3, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0800

            It is the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November and I am sure we all know that means it is Election Day as directed by our constitution.  If I were a little less apathetic I would care that I don’t care.  I am what I am and I could care less about a governor in Virginia or New Jersey.  Nor could I care a wit about the 23^rd congressional district in upstate New York.  And, yet the “news media” seems to think these far off lands of postulating prophets should be of some interest to me.  In this statement are two very wrong assumptions.  The first is that the clowns that masquerade as  news reporters on TV are really interested in the news and the second is that they think I care about anything on a cloudy, grey, miserable day in Florida.

            The travel agent said it was “The Sunshine State.”  They lied.  The sun must be on vacation, because it has not been visible for at least a week.  Well, maybe a couple of days.  We are in Florida and it is supposed to be sunny every waking hour of every day.  At least that is what the brochure said.  I would like to tell you what we did yesterday, but it all seems like a grey fog to me now.  Or was that the weather?

             I Know that I am probably not eliciting much sympathy from anyone crazy enough to read my blog, but I had to cry somewhere and my laptop is very accommodating.  I pout, it whirs the sound of a small fan and neither of us are too much the worse for the ware.  In a few years I will revisit my blog remember the passionate self pity I was feeling on this day and, either, commiserate or laugh.  In either case I hope the sun will be shinning.

            It is time for me to rejoin my world of excitement.   I will forgo the travels through news boredom as the wonks attempt to tell me what to think about a farmers vote in upstate New York where the size of this year’s apple is more important than the legacy of a nation political party.  I may dive deeper into the book I am now reading, the biography of Albert Einstein.  It is a book that causes my brain to feel exhausted more often that not.  The author speaks of the theory of relativity as if he thinks I understand it.  Grasping the concept of hitching a ride on a light beam may be exhilarating, but it also causes me to say “HUH” a lot.  The book is interesting in the way it attempts to explore how the revolutionary theories were conceived in the mind of a person who always was just a step out of “the box.”  Einstein fought against the normal practice of nearly every aspect of life, including how he problem solved physics laws and accepted rule of science.  He thought in pictures instead of words or facts, not ever allowing a rule or law to deter him from perusing an avenue of thought.  If you do not box yourself in by accepted rules you may not be erroneously directed to a fore gone conclusion.

            The sun is still hiding, my book is still waiting and I have now bored you enough.  If you wish, please go vote.  If you don’t wish to trudge off to the polling place stay home. It really will make little difference anyway. As a wise sage answered when questioned about his party affiliation:  “Are you a Republican or a Democrat?”  He answered: “Today, what difference does it make?”

PS The wise sage was Ty in the movie Maid in Manhattan

27 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 2, 2009

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0800

            I hate it when DST leaves us and we have to set our clocks back an hour.  I would gladly give up that silly hour of supposed sleep for an extra hour of light in the evening.  Watching the sun set at 5:30 is wrong and it is only going to get worse.  I miss day light savings time already.

            Connie and I got up early to start or sojourn through the ether of philosophical science and religion as we headed off to church and a NOETIC Science lecture.  It was to me a mind trip that some might find a bit extreme in its diversity, yet I found profoundly similar in actuality.

            The church service was in Deland, FL and was a celebration of All Saints Day at the First Presbyterian Church.  A simple church located in a university town with a wonderful minister of music.  The service was a requiem mass by Rutter including the monthly celebration of communion.  I could not begin to describe the beauty and depth of passion produced by this 40 plus voice choir and 8 piece orchestral group under the direction of a master of Christian music.

            Intertwined in the choral presentation were most of the trappings of a normal Presbyterian service without the presence of a sermon.  Yet as we prepared to leave the over 90 minute religious experience I feel we had had a more meaningful message delivered to our hearts than normal.  The inclusion of the celebration of communion while experiencing a requiem mass orchestral arrangement seem to enforce the dream of resurrection and rebirth felt by all Christians at some philosophical level.  Our hearts and souls had been reached by word in the choral experience, by sound in the orchestral enjoyment and experience in the communion celebration.  It was a very meaningful Sunday Service and one that will remain on our heart’s and soul’s memory for a long time.

            We left this service with a resounding “WOW” in our hearts and headed to the Deland library for a lecture on NOETIC science and the frequency keys of the Rosslyn Chapel.  It was a presentation by the local chapter of the IONS in Deland.  If you are unaware of the meaning of NOETIC science you should read Dan Brown’s The Lost Symbol and let your fingers do dome walking through the fields of Google.  That is how Connie and I found ourselves parked in a library parking lot, rather full I might add.

            I will not attempt to recap the lecture.  It dealt with the Templer Knights, the Rosslyn Chapel and access to alternative dimension and worlds through portals or gateways that might be unlocked by certain frequencies at certain geological sites on or earth.  One of which might be the Rosslyn Chapel in Scotland.  I will not begin to argue in favor or against this point of view, nor would I be so presumptuous as to evaluate its validity.  My wife and I attempted to approach the lecture and discussion with an open mind and desire to learn.  This seemed chore enough at times.

            The resounding feeling of enlightenment that I felt was the total similarity of these two so very dissimilar messages.  It was a message of a new and better dimension available to us as we are delivered on the waves of musical frequency.  It was the fact that in order for us to have the power and strength to obtain this level of transportation we would need to cultivate positive energy and deflect negative energy.  Or as our NOETICS lecturer told us “We should treat others as we wish to be treated.” 

            Our day of diverse theological and philosophical investigation was not nearly as broad as we might have imagined.  If we were to change a noun here or there, add or extract an adjective or adverb now or again, or modify the tense of a verb we could have carried on the same conversation in either group.  And yet one group would, I am sure, not ever be invited to the other to a meeting as a guest lecturer.  It is in this statement that I feel exist a myriad of troubles and problems.  How will either group meet at the portal or gateway with the proper energies or love in their hearts if they can not treat each other as they would each like to be treated.

            It was good Sunday, maybe not a great Sunday.  We enlightened our minds, fed our souls and ate Chinese. That is not a bad day.  Sadly, all of our football teams did loose, so it was not a perfect Sunday.

28 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com

Date:                           November 1, 2009                

Location:                    Daytona Beach, FL

0745

            It is another day in the sunshine state and another day at rekindling by efforts at keeping a daily blog.  To those of you that have joined me in my thought wandering I must verify some information.  It is, indeed, 7:45 in the morning and I am actually up and kind of motivating.  All though that may seem to be against my nature, it is a reality. It is Sunday and I have a sermon and a lecture to attend. Today I will be investigating a spectrum of thought that will spread from Christian theology to Noetic Science.  It should be a fun day.

            Yesterday, Connie and I ventured to one of the main drawing points of Daytona Beach.  It was a very large flea market.  I hope the fleas found something to buy, because we found nothing.  I am seldom in the market for fleas nor do I value over priced garbage being presented by people trying to rip off an unaware, under educated public.   Can you tell I don’t like flea markets?

            We did walk up and down far too many aisles, view far too much junk, and get run into to by far too many geriatric, impolite, Neanderthals.  How can you be in a hurry to view junk?  And it was, sometimes, smelly junk at that.  It was a good simple source of exercise.  We must have walked over 2 miles, at least. I told you it was a large flea market.

            To off set the lack of enjoyment found at the over priced selling of mildewed junk we drove to the local Friendly’s for lunch.  The day was beginning to improve almost immediately.  It was, however, the day of Halloween eve and, as such, most of the parents in Daytona Beach had decided to take their little goblins for a lunch and an ice cream at Friendly’s.  To our chagrin, they had decided on doing this just 7 minutes before we decided we needed some spoiling after our trudge through flea market hell.  This meant that our waitress was very busy, our food was a little slow and the room was filled with “Do I have to eat that?” and “You are not going to get your ice cream if you slap your sister again.” sounds.  It was an enjoyable diversion from our morning excursion.

            It was after our slightly late lunch that I stumbled onto one of life’s little known but highly understood axioms.  “Life looks better through an empty sundae glass.”  A fact and truth that will, I am sure, ring honest for most people.  As I sat there I did realize that this truth of life does work more effectively if it is your own sundae glass.

            With spoon in hand as I dug for the last drip of fudge covered strawberry ice cream, life did seem a bit better.  My tummy was not barking demands for sustenance,  my taste buds were enjoying the slay ride of cool flavors as I ingested each strawberry covered, fudge mixed teaspoon filled excursion into ecstasy. Life did seem a bit better.

            I did realize that no mater how delicious the sides of the sundae glass seemed, striped with brown fudge and clouded by melted ice cream, that there was always just a little more enjoyment just a bit out of reach at the bottom of the glass.  There would always be little more pleasure that might always be just out of reach but always in my mind awaiting the next sundae glass delivery of hot fudge heaven filled with new pleasures of ice cream and sauce. 

            I was also aware that my pleasure might, soberly, appear to be nothing but a dirty dish to someone not observant and empathetic of my perspective.  It would not be until they had received their own “Happy Ending” delight that they could attempt to understand my new life truth.  It was my job to attempt to understand the tenant that my pleasure was, indeed, an element of someone else’s pain or work.  It was to this end that I tried to lick the sides of my glass clean, realizing that I could never fully understand another’s position of turmoil.  And getting a cramp in my tongue attempting to reach the very bottom of the glass would not really erase the feeling of angst they might experience. 

            It was, I decided, my view of my life that seemed a little bit better when viewed through the bottom of my sundae glass.  Pain can not be shared because we can never fully understand another’s perspective and personal weight to the feeling fueling their hurt.  An ice cream sundae, on the other hand, is nearly universally a pleasure.  As I licked my spoon and slid my glass away, I felt I had learnt quite a bit this afternoon.  But I did realize that someone would have to wash my glass, and to them I send my sympathies and a wish that they too will soon enjoy a Happy Ending Sundae.

29 DAYS to EMBARKATION

Wfdo2@wfdo2.com