3/30

I posted a picture of myself on a previous entry about my visit to the ballpark in Jupiter, Fla. to see the Mets in a spring training “away” game.  A cousin of mine, who I have not seen in some years, wrote to say that I looked (and I quote) "unrecognizable"! 

She wasn't, of course, wrong.

Rather than being offended however, I thought about it for a while and came to the conclusion that if my hideous current appearance renders me "unrecognizable"; then it follows that back in the day, before the rot set in, I must have been exactly the opposite: quite the looker.  The logic is airtight.  So if you don't remember me that way, it is clearly your faulty memory. You might want to have it checked.

I wanted to see the Mets one more time before the spring training season ends and they head back up to the frozen tundra to play in New York.  And I really wanted to see them in their home park, which is in Port St. Lucie, Florida.  For 27 years, occasional spring games from here have been televised back home in Feb. and March, giving us Northerners a vicarious taste of how the other half lives while we were huddled inside shivering.  I remember years ago, watching the spectators in their T-shirts and shorts, sitting on the grass in the “berm” soaking up the sunshine and (more often than not) watching the Mets get pounded.  It looked so idyllic that I just ached to be there. 

So today, Lorraine and I took our beach chairs, hats, and sun-tan lotion, and headed up Route 95 for a glorious afternoon "on the berm”.  As we waited in line to purchase the tickets, a man came up to Lorraine and gave her a certificate entitling the bearer to two FREE tickets!!  He said he wasn’t able to use them (they were only good for today’s date); and that she was welcome to them if she wanted!  Naturally, he didn’t offer them to me, because, as we have previously established, my hideous appearance is off-putting to little children, strangers bearing gifts, and blood relatives.

Still, if I had a choice at my age of having an attractive wife, or an attractive self; I’d be a fool not to choose the wife.  She’s the one I have to look at all day.  This is her and Logan back in NJ before we left on our trip.  Come to think of it, they're BOTH more attractive than me!

3/28

Today was the second of a couple of days of rain here, and Lorraine decided that we needed to go to some flea markets.  I needed a new case for my 1957-vintage flip phone, so I consented to go along.  The first flea market we found was, to our surprise, heavily Hispanic.  All the signs were in Spanish, and all the vendors spoke Spanish when we tried to communicate.  Of course, all the goods being sold were Chinese.
The next place we found (again, via Google) seemed to be a predominantly African-American affair.  At least the vendors spoke English here, but the goods for sale were still all still made in China.  Lorraine spent some time looking at the clothes in the very popular "Streetwalker" collection; while I perused the men's T-shirts emblazoned with slogans explaining the role that money plays in attracting the female of the species.  I wonder if the Chinese have any idea of the meaning of the English words that they print on the T-shirts they ship to us??  We passed on purchasing anything in either department, and also on (this is not a joke) the basket of "Free Condoms" that was available at the security guard station as you exited the premises.  Lorraine wanted very much to take a photo of this, and it would certainly have been much better than the picture that accompanies this entry; but the security guard did not look at all like he would appreciate our snapping that shot on his watch.  I suspect he would not be a fan of irony.  I did find a nice case for my flip-phone at the place however, so the trip was not wasted.  
On the way home, we decided to stop for a latte at the local Dunkin' Donuts.  The young barista who waited on me made 2 mistakes with my 1 drink order:  I ordered a medium, and got a large; and I asked for extra caramel, and got none.  When I asked for the senior discount, he said they didn't have one.  "In Florida?" I asked incredulously.  "How can that be? Seniors are practically the state bird here!"  He was not amused, so I took my drink and slunk away.

3/26

Here in West Palm Beach today, we passed a church with one of those big outside bulletin boards on the front lawn.  It said, in big letters, “Jesus’ Last Week”.  Now I know it was a reference to the events leading up to the crucifixion, which the pastor probably intends to preach on this Sunday.  But I couldn’t help but smile and think of a billboard above a Las Vegas hotel stating who the headliner was, and how long his engagement would last.

“Jesus’ Last Week – Sold Out.  Coming 3/28 – Vishnu and his All-Star Revue” 

Get your tickets early.  It’s reportedly his farewell tour.

3/24

The Mrs. and I went to the Roger Dean Stadium yesterday to see my beloved Mets play a spring training game against the Miami Marlins.  Roger Dean is the spring home of the Marlins, and just about 10 minutes from where we are staying, so the Mets were the visiting team.  Many of the professional baseball clubs do their training down here in Florida beginning in February because of the weather up north, which I'm told can be a little inconvenient at this time of year. 
(Pause for the round of "thought invectives" which are now being directed toward me because I am in Florida now, and you are not.)
And we're back.  
Anyway, the thing that puzzles me is why the MIAMI Marlins have to go somewhere else to train in the spring.  The Pittsburgh Pirates?  Yeah, I get it.  But the Marlins?  Miami is the perfect temperature right now.  Maybe in August they would need

to go somewhere else, but certainly not now.  Most of the Miami players appeared to be just a as confused as I was.  The Mets won 12-3, scoring 8 runs in the second inning, and the Marlins were never in it.

Sitting in the stands next to us was a school group of what appeared to be 4th graders, on a field trip to the ballpark.  As you can imagine, it was all about the snacks, and constantly having to escort kids to the bathroom.  As I watched the chaperones riding herd on their flock (to mix a metaphor), I was reminded of the old maxim: "As you are now, I once was.  As I am now, you will one day be."  Hopefully they are as happy with their place on the circle of life as I am with mine.  

3/16/15

Lorraine and I are on the road again, this time in Daytona Florida visiting our niece, Denise (Lorraine’s sister’s daughter).  She recently bought a house here, ostensibly to get away from the winters up north; but I suspect the real motive may have been to get away from me.  Completely understandable, but she made the rookie mistake of including her new address on her Christmas card.

The weather was lovely here today – about 85 degrees – and we spent it at the beach.  We had to take Denise’s car, since ours inexplicably was completely empty of oil when I checked it quite by accident this morning.  There was no oil on the ground beneath it, and it had been changed and filled just before we left Jersey. Additionally, I had checked it while on the road in South Carolina; and it was full!  So we are searching for an explanation before we can drive it again.  I bought some oil today and put it in, and put cardboard under the car; so we will see in the morning if the oil is there or in the crankcase.  Of course, I have no idea what or where the crankcase is.  The word sounds like an insult that someone might use to describe me on a bad day.  (“There’s just no reasoning with the old “crankcase” today.  Better to let him cool off, and talk to him tomorrow.”)

Fortunately, we have Denise to chauffer us around until the situation resolves itself. 

3/18

No resolution on the oil situation yet.  Our mechanic from back home on the phone, and another one here in person have advised us that it is safe to drive, as long as we keep checking the oil.  We are; and there is no evidence that the oil is either leaking, or burning.  But it is disappearing on a regular basis!  I suspect some sort of ISIS involvement; you know, because it’s oil; but that’s just a working theory.  Tomorrow morning we are going to head further down the coast to West Palm Beach Gardens, an area which is reportedly not under their control.  Yet.

3/22

We are in West Palm Beach Gardens, which is a separate town, not to be confused with West Palm Beach, or Palm Beach. I think the towns are distinguished from each other chiefly by the number of Trumps who live in each. We are staying at the home of Alan and Hilary (last name withheld for privacy, but it is not Trump) my friends from college. Alan and I met on the first day of college 48 years ago, and neither of us can remember ever having a cross word with each other in all those years! Which will make it all the more lamentable when I inevitably do something insensitive and bone-headed while I am here as their house guest.
Lorraine and I went to a Calvary Chapel church service this morning in the nearby town of Jupiter, which happens to be the hometown of Burt Reynolds. Burt didn't show, but the service was great; and afterward there was a cafe (in the church building) that dispensed free lattes, cappuccinos, and espressos, along with fresh-baked chocolate chip cookies. After we partook, just to be neighborly, we came back to the condo here and took a dip in the pool in the glorious 86 degree sunshine. Then, back at the house, I was able to watch the spring training game between the Yankees and the Mets on the DVR, which the Met won handily.  I see why Florida has a well-earned reputation for being a "no-suck zone", especially in March.