Happy New Year

As this year comes to an end I want to thank so many of you for allowing me to share your lives and supporting me through all the change that has transpired during the year.  There are far too many of you to list, but you know who you are.

I hope the New Year will bring everyone happiness and joy in everything you attempt and endeavor to do, it should be an interesting year for us all.

Happy New Year my friends, let us hope our path's cross soon!

Merry Christmas. . .

I admit I'm not one to celebrate Christmas as most of my friends.  But that doesn't mean I don't recognise how important it is for others, nor the meaning behind it.  For me personally, it's just not a time of celebration.

So, for those of my friends who do celebrate this day I simply want to say Merry Christmas to you and yours, the extended families, and all that you hold dear. I share your joy of the day!

May the coming New Year bring all of you joy and happiness beyond your dreams.

Dan

I guess the denial stage is over

It had to happen sooner or later.

I was out running errands and stopped to make a quick purchase for the Hula Hut. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the usual day of little things to check off the list of items to buy when and if they ever came on sale.

I found the item buried on a shelf behind some other things and made my way to the cashier. I was one happy camper as I made my way to the front of the store despite knowing that I would be standing in a line of Christmas shoppers. Did I mention I hate shopping?

But eventually my turn came, and as I was reaching for my wallet those dreaded words I’ve been avoiding were finally uttered in my presence.

"Thank you, sir, with your senior discount the amount is . . . "

Ah crap.

I guess my denial stage has come to an end.

For years I’ve been getting those unsolicited AARP mailings welcoming me to the "senior" world and offering all kinds of incentives to buy insurance, take advantage of cruise travel, retirement advice, and reverse mortgages. Until today I had convinced myself that they had been meant for someone named "occupant" and had come to me by mistake.

Not anymore.

The truth is that that senior discount actually saved me a few bucks (on top of the 40% off sale price) and I didn’t notice anyone standing around giggling and pointing in my direction like they were making fun of the old man holding up the line. I mean, I wasn’t wearing sandals and black socks or anything else that could have given me away. Perhaps its all the experience etched upon my face?             Who knew?

Personally, I would have liked staying in my state of denial for a few more years and pretending that all that mail, and the other things that come along with the senior label, be put on a shelf somewhere until I was better able to deal with it. But the sad reality is that I should be grateful that I’ve lived this long and take the few things that are offered with some grace.                     OK, I’ll give it a try.

Now, if I can just find a woman who thinks she’s part of the Disney Family I’ll be a really happy camper. You know: someone who charges a flat-rate senior discount for multiple rides and unlimited entries.

For years I’ve been looking for that membership offer to show up in my mail.

What is it about Thongs?

Never let anyone tell you that being in Florida is all about retirement and laying on the beach.

Sometimes it can be downright ugly.

As an example, let me share with you this morning’s experience. I woke in my usual "thank god I’m still here" mood and decided that today I would be extraordinarily lazy and go to the beach for a good (made-by-someone-else) breakfast. After all, this is Florida, why shouldn’t I go to the beach for fresh orange juice, eggs, coffee, and sunshine on a Sunday morning? Solitude in the Sun is good for the soul.

I’ll tell you why. I forgot about our northern neighbors. You know? The ones that are my constant companions from either side of me in the RV park. The Canadians? Not my neighbors specifically, but their cousins, brothers, sisters, whatever. . .they’re freaking everywhere down here this time of year.

Even zipping along the sidewalk on my Segway I have to be careful. Apparently these folks have no concept of a sidewalk, or bike lanes in the frozen tundra to the North. Or at least that’s my impression. I had to dodge cars at every intersection, and I gave up being in the bike lane as too stressful (I have enough gray hair thank you very much!) after one too many close calls. I didn’t survive getting my butt blown up in Iraq to be run down by some crazed northern visitor with limited vision, no ability to comprehend street signs, and is incapable of understanding that the painted bike in the middle of two skinny lanes on the road is not an invitation or license to mow down people using said lane on two wheels. Ugh!

But, I survived the trip, and as an added bonus I didn’t see any of my brothers or sisters in blue trolling the broad walk of Hollywood Beach this AM looking for a half crazed speed demon on a Segway. I’ll take that as an even balance to that point.

I found my magical little beach side breakfast nook exactly where I remembered it. And, the service and food was going along fine.

And then, the tourists started showing up.

Now, let me be clear about a major topic for us (now, part time) residents. We love tourists. If it wasn’t for them coming to Florida there would be fewer jobs, little growth, and we’d all be paying State income tax. Not to mention that in the wintertime the Lotto jackpots go through the ceiling due to all those extra tickets being sold. So, I kind of like the whole tourist thing as a whole. Throw in the occasional New Jersey and New York accent or the European and African dialects, plus the lilt of the Islands, and it adds a nice ambiance to wherever you happen to be.

But what is it about our far northern neighbors? I get the whole "I speak French" thing. Yup, don’t like it much, and don’t get me started on the whole "I have 6 months of paid vacation" thing. What I don’t understand, what I truly do not comprehend, is why on gods green earth they insist on wearing thongs and g-strings to the beach? I mean, people are trying to eat here!

After enjoying my simple, but satisfying, breakfast this morning, I was enjoying my coffee when an "experienced" (I don’t want to call them "elderly" since I’m getting up there myself) couple came walking up the beach with the intent to sit at the next table in the café. The woman was wearing a nice sundress, the obligatory sandal’s, sunglasses and hat. She was fine. Her companion however, was wearing white socks, sandals, a hat, and a thong. No shirt. (Where was that handy  no shoes, no shirt, no service sign when I need it?). Now, this experienced gentleman is certainly of an age where he can choose his own manner of dress. But come on, really? Can someone tell me that a man who looks to be in his 70-80’s really needs to be in a thong? Let’s be clear here. I really don’t want to see a saggy butt in a thong. Thank you.

Now, if this were South Beach, and the thong was filled with say, Brazilian, German, French, Latin, or Italian female flesh would I be so upset? Ahhhh, no, probably not. But that’s another story for another time. Now that I think about it, I see a Segway trip to South Beach in my future.

They have breakfast down there too.

Sitting, annoyed with the whole thing, started me thinking of solutions. And that brings me back to my original point. Others impacted what started as another good day. I certainly can’t yell or scream at everyone who tries to run me down on the Seqway (My little parrot squeaker horn doesn’t seen to have the dynamic impact I had hoped) – (and I’m not allowed to throw ball bearings in the path of traffic when they annoy me!), and I equally have to keep my sense of polite conversation and observations to myself while in a public establishment. But darn it, if we have city ordinances to regulate silly stuff like Seqway’s can’t we at least come up with a creative age-appropriate ban on thongs and g-string bikinis? Men should just be banned from wearing the damn things in public at all. I know you’ll never see my saggy butt in one, but then, I spend almost all my time on the clothing optional beach – another story in and of itself.

Excuse me, I digress.

Women on the other hand should be allowed the comfort that such an item provides. Within decent bounds of course, (albeit politically incorrect to say so) saggy butts on women look no better that on men. Something where equal rights seems to be truly equal.

I’d be willing to volunteer my time to help monitor the compliance part of any such ordinance. I mean, as a native, don’t I have sort of an obligation to make the beaches friendly? I know it would take some dedication and time to observe all the women who come and go on the beach in any given day, but we all have to sacrifice for our Government (or isn’t that the theme at present?), and for the overall good of all our citizens.

All I would need is sun block (to generously offer a helping hand to those in need), a pair of binoculars (to make sure I keep a close eye on potential violators), and a whistle (something in a different tone then the life guards, but useful to draw others attention to a potentially well utilized thong) to make our visitors feel welcome and appreciated. Yeah, I’d be willing to do that.

I feel much better now having expressed myself on this important topic. It’s a wonderful feeling to be able to turn around a negative experience and seek a solution that I think many of us would find acceptable.

And besides, my breakfast was pretty awesome up to that point. Retirement is not all fun and games after all, I constantly have to find ways to keep myself busy and mentally challenged.

I'm trying to improve. Really!

It’s been an unusual week for me. But then, I guess there is really nothing unusual about hearing that is there?

During my travels in the last few days I ran into one couple I had not seen in a few years. We were very close at one point in our lives and it was nice to see them. The wife, at some point during our conversation, decided to offer me some advice that I have since found to be very helpful. I wanted to share this with everyone.

You see, her opinion is that I have changed far too much since the last time we were all gathered together and that she is worried that I’m beginning to lose my ability to "socially interact properly with people". Wow. So I asked the obvious question; "what would you suggest?"

While her husband rolled his eyes in the background, she recommended that I get out more, mingle with people, and go out to functions like party’s or public places. She also suggested that I visit historically significant places (she knows I have an interest in History), take pictures, visit with the other guests in those locales, and perhaps pickup souvenirs to take home as a reminder of the visit. Hmmmmmmm. . . Maybe she’s on to something here. Do I see snow-globes and tiny cups or spoons in my future? Ah, nope ….

Later that evening when I returned to my hotel, my initial thought was to simply pull off this darn suit from the funerals and "veg" in front of the cable with a room service pizza and some quiet reflection time. But, the more I thought about her comments, the more positive I became about making change in my life. I decided to act right that very evening by going somewhere significant, perhaps even somewhere that had a historically rich background and where I might have an opportunity to work on my apparently lacking social skills. I have to admit it would be nice to mix with people….at least, every once in a while.

I think I found it. I had forgotten about this little establishment that sits on a main drag in the local area, has a rich history in the local culture, and provides a relaxed environment that promotes verbal intercourse among the guests. I think this place must be an example of what she was thinking when she talked to me earlier. I have to admit that after several hours of soaking in the atmosphere and visually stimulating surroundings, I felt much better. Maybe you’ll recognize this landmark?

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After a restful night’s sleep, it was time to get back on the road. I was feeling very energetic about the previous night’s experience and promised myself that I would try to take every opportunity to better myself from now on. I’m turning over a new leaf as it were.

Later that day, while making my way on some back road to nowhere special (you know about those, right?), I found a little roadside sign advertising a "once-in-a-lifetime" firearm sale and demonstration. Frankly, it was the hand-painted little addition next to it that said "Santa’s Visiting Today!" that made me stop. I mean, if Santa is going to be there, this has GOT to be a place I want to be meeting and socializing with people. Guns & Santa, does it get any better then that?

I wandered around for hours in the endless tables of guns, knives, and knick-knacks. The whole thing was set up in a series of open fields with a ready made gun range laid out, and more guns and rednecks in one place then I’ve seen in a long long time. Santa arrived on a tractor. Which struck me as appropriate given the target audience.

I must admit a certain amount of failure however, because no matter how much I tried, I think just about everyone (3-400 people?) must have known I was an outsider. I drank my beer and ate my hot dog in solitude on a stump in the tree line. How’s that for original?

It wasn’t a complete loss though. I bought a souvenir T-shirt (see below) to mark my attendance at the event and I will, of course, wear it when and if I return to Hollywood. I’m sure it’s going to be the envy of everyone on the boardwalk – I know it will stimulate conversation and open up all kinds of possibilities for me to work on my social interactive skill set.

I’m going to send a note to my friend just as soon as I’m finished here. I know she’ll be proud to know that she’s had such a positive impact on me in such as short period of time. I feel more socially adept now that I’m giving it a chance!

I’ll keep you posted.