danajohnhill.org | Hard Times Come Again No More

Jeff and Sandi are two close friends who live in southeast Florida, and, though I have visited them there more than once, I hadn’t since 2007.  The horribly long drive has discouraged me, and so has a busy schedule.  But I have no school this summer, and since Sandi offered to come pick me up in Gainesville and drive me back, I couldn’t refuse the invitation.

Day One

I was in the process of painting our house, and I really wished to have a substantial portion of the work completed before I left town for several days.  When Sandi arrived in town I was just finishing the front, and was the sweatiest man in America.  I was sweatier still the next day on our six-hour drive, since the air conditioning in Sandi’s car is intermittent at best.  It will blow frigid air for about four minutes, then quickly turn warm.  Then it’s “windows down”.  In normal city driving it’s tolerable, but at highway speeds the wind noise is deafening.  Still, the conversation was good and made the long drive pass quickly, both coming and going.  Kathleen came along, also, and she rode in the front seat on the way down, and I rode up front on the way back.

We arrived in Homestead late Monday afternoon.  It was my first visit to their house, which they have lived in for over two years.  It gave me a very comfortable feeling, and I especially liked the floorplan, which has the guest rooms and bath on one side of the house, and the master bedroom and bath on the other side.  And, though it is a ranch-style home, it isn’t just one long rectangle.  The swimming pool is a luxury.  Sandi and Jeff were nice enough to lower their thermostat so that when we walked into their house we experienced an arctic blast, which I appreciated a great deal, especially each time we came in from the Sweltermobile, as I call her Explorer.  Plus, in the hot months, I love the feeling of coming in to a cold house while I am wet from the pool.  I cannot explain it, but I assume that I got the taste for it when I lived in a pool house as a kid.

Jeff came home shortly after our arrival, and we all went out to eat right away.  I wasn’t hungry, since we had stopped in Orlando to have lunch with Brenna on our way down, and after I eat a meal I am full for hours and hours.  But it was a pleasant Mexican restaurant in downtown Homestead that we went to, and I enjoyed just being there.  We came home afterward and did some night swimming.  There is a small stereo system out on Jeff and Sandi’s patio, so one might enjoy a tune whilst swimming.  Their very well-behaved dog was not at all interested in getting in the water.  Or barking, or jumping on anyone, or doing anything at all that I generally find annoying with dogs.   She just liked standing around wherever we were, and being embraced bodily by Sandi at frequent intervals.  I have been around this dog on several occasions (she formerly belonged to Sandi’s mother), and she’s really a first-rate animal.

Most nights during my visit we all sat in the den chatting and taking turns playing Grand Theft Auto.  That’s one of few video games that is even fun to watch other people play, since each person’s turn feels like watching a movie.  I don’t have any sort of video game system at home, so it’s a novelty when I get to play.   We didn’t worry too much about playing the regular missions that further the game’s narrative.  Rather, we preferred to amass stockpiles of weapons and then go on crime rampages in an effort to see just how many law enforcement agencies would attempt to apprehend us.  Jeff also likes playing in “Vigilante” mode, which involves hunting down various enemy characters somewhere in the game, and that was particularly exciting to watch.  We all spent a good deal of time in the comfy den, and were up past midnight every night.

Day Two

Sandi must have been up well before me on Tuesday morning, because she was already out shopping for victuals for the boat trip we were going to take that day when I arose.  After she returned and packed the cooler, and after Jeff got the boat trailer affixed to the Sweltermobile, we all hopped in and made our way to the marina.  Only a few minutes’ drive south of their house and you find yourself in the hot, flat, agricultural belly of the Everglades.  Long, straight roads run along canals that pierce deep into palm groves and banana farms.  Being a week day, the marina was mostly deserted, and we didn’t have to wait at all to launch the boat.  Sandi and Jeff have it down, so Kathleen and I didn’t even need to help; we just got on and got going.  While we were idling toward open waters, we all applied sunscreen, and though I was methodical in my application thereof, I still felt nervous all afternoon, since the day was perfectly clear and the sun was exceptionally strong.  Taking Jeff’s advice, I borrowed a long-sleeved shirt to wear.  It seems counter-intuitive to wear long sleeves on a ninety-five-degree day, but it was a wise choice.  I didn’t get sunburned anywhere.  Kathleen, alas, was scorched, though I am sure I saw Sandi helping her apply sunscreen.

Biscayne Bay is long and wide, and the southern portion from whence we set out sits along the western edge of the national park, which is comprised of mangrove islands.   Jeff had evidently had some engine work done on the boat, and was therefore expecting that we’d be able to cruise across the water at high speed.  Something was wrong, however, and the engine didn’t want to run above about 3,500 RPM.  Having never been on their boat I didn’t know any difference, but Jeff did, and he was frustrated.  But he got it working right, and, as it turned out, speeding across the water was my favorite part of our boating experience.  I’ve been on many different watercraft in my life, but aside from ferries and vaporetti and the like, they have been almost exclusively sailing boats.  I hadn’t traveled at such speeds across open water.  It was nice.

We selected a swimming spot in a natural channel between two small islands, dropped anchor and dove in.  The water was extremely warm, and, thus, not particularly refreshing, but swimming was still fun.  The current was strong there, so I tied a line for us to all hold on to so we wouldn’t have to work hard just to keep from floating away.  I snorkeled a little, Jeff a lot.  Climbing back into the boat was something that nobody had ever tried on that boat, but we all proved perfectly capable.  I probably had the hardest time of anyone, since I opted for the pull-up method as opposed to the step-up method the others used.  I just found the step-up method awkward to negotiate.  Once back in the boat I was immediately bitten by a horse fly.

We spent several hours out on the water, and since everyone had had some food while at sea, nobody was dying when Jeff had to go off for a while to do some work once we returned home.  But he was back a couple hours later, and we all headed to a pizza restaurant called the Big Cheese.  They had taken Miriam and me there years ago, but I had forgotten how affordable it was.  Jeff, Sandi, Kathleen and I all ate for thirty dollars and change.  And Jeff got a huge calzone.

Day Three

Wednesday we had a pretty lazy day.  We didn’t leave the house until almost noon, and then it was to go to Cracker Barrel for lunch.  I don’t recall doing anything for the rest of the day except swim in the pool.  At night we went to Sonny’s where we had an unbelievably sassy waitress named Fallon.  She was incredibly sarcastic, but Jeff found it a refreshing change of pace from the otherwise bland and snobby Miami servers.  On our way out I held the door open for a policeman, and for a brief instant I worried that I might assault him.  That’s how much Grand Theft Auto we had played.  When we got back home I spent an hour or so monitoring an eBay auction (I won!) while the others played Tetris.  While Jeff and I chatted about the array of awesome G.I. Joe action figures, vehicles, and playsets we each owned as a child–and how, as adults, we are entirely able to buy as many of these items as we’d like–we theorized that we were doing exactly what little kids assume adults are doing at any given moment: playing video games, shopping for toys, eating junk food, staying up late, etc.

Day Four

Thursday was to be our last day, and we spent the first part of it heading down to Florida City to a place called Robert Is Here.  It’s a roadside produce stand that also serves fruit shakes and smoothies.  Sadly, vanilla didn’t appear to be an option, but they had numerous creative flavors besides.  Next we headed down a long, straight two-lane road until we got nearly to Key Largo and ate lunch at a placed called Alabama Jack’s, which has great significance to Jeff and Sandi.  I didn’t care for my food, but everyone else seemed quite satisfied, and, stuffed, we headed back home.

The last part of the day was spent packing and swapping photos.  Both Kathleen and I experienced battery failure during the trip, so during our maritime adventures neither of us took photos.  On the other hand, Kathleen took many more pictures at Robert Is Here, and I took many more during our sitting-around times at the house.  Together, we all documented the fun pretty well.

We left close to six o’clock on Thursday afternoon.  We made a last pit stop near their house to get some food.  Sandi had a little card that entitled her to a summer’s worth of free Frostys at Wendy’s.  She was generous enough to let me have it.  It was refreshing.  And hilariously small.  While there was moderate traffic heading north, it wasn’t absurd.  The first couple hours of the drive are entirely suburban, where the Turnpike–which we entered at Exit 2–runs along the western edge of Miami, Miramar, Hollywood, Ft. Lauderdale, Pompano Beach, Delray Beach, Boynton Beach, West Palm Beach, and so on, until turning to the west at Fort Pierce for the long, entirely agricultural stretch south Orlando.  We saw a beautiful sunset somewhere near Okeechobee County.  After darkness fell the air conditioning worked much better, and the drive was substantially quieter and more comfortable.  Sandi and I talked at great length about drywall and her kitchen remodel, which, though only halfway done, looks wonderful.  Kathleen enjoyed her iPod in the back seat.  We made two stops: the first for food in St. Lucie County, the second for gas in Micanopy, only fifteen or so miles from home.  We took Highway 441 for the last half-hour of the drive.  It was a relief to be off the Interstate, and it felt wonderful to be home.

The whole trip, while short, was actually exactly what I had wanted it to be.  There was almost no pressure to do more than we felt like doing at any one moment, and we had many opportunities to simply relax, swim, talk, and play video games.  So, thank you to Jeff and Sandi for being such gracious hosts.  Next time: night boat.

Filed under: Friends, Musings, Recreation, Travel on September 21st, 2010 | No Comments »

I am of the very firm opinion that summer’s best days fall between Memorial Day weekend and Independence Day.  Indeed, the Fourth of July is both the climax and beginning of the end of Summer.  I have often found myself on a mid-August day thinking, “I can’t believe the Fourth of July was six weeks ago”.  So, this year, as usual, I was tremendously excited by the holiday, and well aware that it might be one of the most exciting weekends of the whole summer.  Little did I know!

In Gainesville, 3 July is a big day.  Since so many people are out of town in the summer, and those who are left often travel, the big fireworks display is held a day early.  Two years ago, in the midst of huge budget cuts, it was canceled, and only saved at the last minute by an anonymous donor who ponied up so everyone could enjoy a spectacle.  Last year, though, no savior came forth, and the town was silent and dark.  Since fireworks were scheduled to return this year, there was excitement all over town, and especially in my heart.

In the afternoon we were invited to a pool party out in the country near Newberry.  We drove way out of Gainesville before heading north on a narrow two-lane road, and finally an unmarked dirt road.  Posted signs led us to the party.  All the derby girls were there, many with their significant others, and some even brought their children.  It was a huge crowd.

Everyone brought some food or drink.  Since the party had a luau theme I took Hawaiian Punch.  Sara made Jell-O shots–dozens of them–and they were wildly popular.  As time went on the girls went from eating them individually, to eating them in unison, and finally to feeding them to one another.  Eventually though, it turned into a game of catch, albeit with limited success. Everyone seemed to enjoy all the food.

The weather was hot, of course, but mostly overcast.  It seemed as though it might rain at any time, and for a little while it did sprinkle a bit, but not for long.  And whatever rain and occasional thunder there was didn’t keep anyone from swimming in the pool.  At one point there were twenty-five people in the water.  I was more excited about the homemade slip and slide.  Kaylen brought plastic sheeting and baby shampoo, and I helped lay out and spray down the plastic.  I hadn’t been on a slip and/or slide in years and I was really looking forward to it.  It was fun, but the ground where we set it up–the only place available–wasn’t especially soft or smooth.  As you slid you could feel every bump.  But a lot of people tried it out, and the kids loved it especially.

By the late afternoon it seemed like the storm clouds were gathering in the east, and with the Jell-O shots depleted people began to depart.  As we made it into town the sky was black.  We met up with Robin, Sarah Jean, and Kerri back at Kerri’s place.

The fireworks on campus begin at 9:30, and we hoped to get there before nine o’clock to find a good place on Flavet Field to set up our blanket.  Two years ago, at the last Fanfares and Fireworks, we had all met up and enjoyed the music and fireworks together.  This time, though, the rain that persisted well into the early evening meant that the field would be wet, so we also had some plastic to put beneath the blanket.  We arrived on campus shortly after 8:30, and I hoped that the rain was done for good.  But the storms that afternoon were not like the typical summer storms that come in swiftly, rain violently for an hour, then move on leaving clear skies.  This storm rained slow and steady for hours, not looking to let up.  We parked initially behind Weil Hall, but as no other cars were parked there, we thought perhaps other people knew something we didn’t, namely that the fireworks had been postponed due to rain.  The radio provided no information at all.  So we drove over toward the the Keys Complex across from McKethan Stadium where we found a police officer directing traffic.  She told us that no decision would be made until after nine o’clock.  So we drove back and parked again, and began walking.  But by the time we reached the corner of Gale Lemerand and Stadium Road the skies opened up again, and it began raining so hard that it was nearly impossible to see.

It was not quite nine o’clock, but the weather was so bad that all of us–including me–thought there was no way they could put on a fireworks display.  We decided then and there to cut our losses and go home.  Of all people, I am the most in love with fireworks and would be the last to be convinced that they might be canceled, but I saw no way that they could go on in that weather, and I did not doubt my conclusion for a moment.  On the way back to the car, as the deluge reached absurd proportions, we covered ourselves with whatever tarps and blankets we had.  When we reached our vehicle and I fumbled for the car keys, Kerri stood with her arms akimbo and asked me to take her picture.  I snapped a quick photograph, which involved the camera experiencing no more than three or four seconds of direct exposure to the elements, but that turned out to be a bad idea.  The picture you see here was the last my Nikon D70 would ever take.

The next morning I awoke and hung my flag on the house outside.  I read the newspaper which contained the shocking news that the fireworks display had, in fact, gone off as planned, though with a slight delay.  I couldn’t believe it.  Evidently there had been a brief window just before ten o’clock in which the rain subsided and they could uncover the pyrotechnic machinery.  I was, of course, sorry that I missed the fireworks, but I couldn’t feel sad about it.  The rain the night before had been so extreme that my very best judgment concluded fireworks were impossible.  I had not been talked into giving up, nor had I felt there was even a small chance.  In any case, I was actually glad that the few intrepid souls who had braved the weather were rewarded for their efforts.  They deserved it.

We had been invited back to Matt and Kerri’s house for barbecue and fun that evening.  Matt had kindly provided IBC cream soda again, which was a delightful treat.  I didn’t eat anything, but there was a whole buffet laid out, and, if I recall, everyone brought something.  Sarah Jean was there, of course, and Kat and Harris came, too.  After dark we set off our own cheap fireworks.  Sarah Jean made the most ghetto pyrotechnic display I’d ever seen, which consisted of a flaming black plastic trash bag hanging from a branch that dripped boiling liquid plastic onto the ground as the fire burned its way up the length of the bag.  We all had sparklers, and Kaylen brought some more impressive Roman candles and bottle rockets and such.  We did all of this in Matt and Kerri’s front yard along Northeast Ninth Street.  My camera was broken, so I was sad to only be able to capture the goings on with my cellphone camera, but that’s all I got.

Back inside the house we played the original Super Mario Bros. on Nintendo, and it was great.  I had never had that game, which was included with each Nintendo game console, because my system came with a book instead.  So I never got good at Super Mario, either.  That hasn’t changed.  Harris was expert.  We had a lot of fun.

And that was Independence Day 2010.

Filed under: Friends, Gainesville, Meteorology, Special Occasions on September 19th, 2010 | No Comments »

Proximity to a variety of natural attractions is a frequently-cited quality-of-life benefit in Gainesville.  Every weekend during the summer, college kids from Gainesville pile into cars and trucks and drive up Highway 441 to Ichetucknee Springs State Park.  The drive takes you through High Springs and into Columba County.  Everyone stops in Fort White to rent inner tubes from one of several several roadside stands, then proceeds on to the state park.  I have been to the springs only a handful of times since I’ve lived in Gainesville, and two of those times were this summer.

On a hot Sunday back in mid-June, eleven of us met at Matt and Kerri’s house in the morning, then carpooled up to the park.  Kat and Laura rode with us, and our convoy stopped at Ichetucknee Tube Center in Fort White – the first place we came to.  Choosing a tube is a matter of personal preference.  Like Kyle, I opted for the smooth, clear variety.  Like Sarah Jean, Miriam chose a big blue tube.  The shirtless man with skin like leather took our nine dollars and helped us load our tubes.  It’s a procedure that he seemed to have mastered, but as we learned, it wasn’t so simple.

Matt and Kerri rode with Sara, and as we drove behind them we noticed that their tubes were flailing wildly on the back of her SUV.  They were whipping about so violently that we were certain they would soon be jettisoned.  There was a car between us as this was happening, and it began to slow down as its driver, no doubt, recognized what was about to happen.  When the tubes did fly away, that car avoided running them over.  Sara realized she had lost her cargo, and stopped down the road a ways.  I stopped our car and ran into the road to save the tubes.  Sara pulled off the road, and as she and Matt re-secured the payload, they discovered the cause of the disaster: the twine the leathery man used to tie the tubes had been rubbing against a sharp piece of plastic along the back portion of Sara’s car; the rope was sliced through.  With the tubes safely stowed we continued the short distance to the park, where the car with Robin, Sarah Jean, Adrienne, and Kyle was waiting for us.

We parked our cars, and as Kat inflated her two red tubes, I changed into my river-ready clothes, and switched from sneakers into flip-flops.  I had taken my Nikon camera with me and I used it to take a great group photo before we set out to catch the tram to take us up the river.  Knowing it would be foolish to take a digital camera into the water, I had purchased a waterproof disposable camera ahead of time, and I used it to photograph our river run.  It stayed attached to my wrist with a rubber band.

I am always nervous when I get to the bank of the river.  Like all of Florida’s spring-fed rivers, the Ichetucknee is seventy-two degrees Fahrenheit all year.  While that makes it refreshing on a hot summer day, diving into the cold water still takes your breath away.  Some people wade in slowly, trying to get acclimated instead of shocked.  I find that that is useless.  Plus, on a busy weekend, taking your sweet time can irritate those in line behind you.  I just drop my tube in the water and jump into it.  I squeal, of course, but it beats the alternative.  The water moves swiftly, and if you mean to keep together with your pals that have already–or not yet–entered the river, you have to do some paddling.  It took us a couple minutes, but we all got in the water, and thanks to Robin, who wore flippers and swam like a Rhinemaiden, we were united.

The strategy for keeping together on the river varies from group to group.  Some don’t worry about it, and simply spread out.  Some bring rope and tie their tubes together, forming, in effect, one large raft.  That has its drawbacks, chief of which is inflexibility.  The Ichetucknee, like any pristine river, is wild, and its banks are lined with downed trees and limbs.  Below the surface of the water, logs and limbs, often invisible to the eye, wait to snag tubes.  You sometimes see groups of tethered tubers struggling to dislodge themselves from such an obstacle.  On our June excursion, we opted for the more flexible “grab-hold” system.  Each of us held on to the handle of the tube next to us.  When hazards appeared we were able to quickly reconfigure to avoid disaster.  And should one of us chance to be left behind, Robin the mermaid was there to tow him or her back to the party.

Passionate tubers arrive at the park early in the morning in order to ride the river all the way from the spring itself, a process which takes several hours.  In general, if you go after ten o’clock it’s too late to do the whole river.  We certainly did not arrive in time, but we decided to make two runs from the halfway point, with a break for lunch in between.

Everyone had brought some sort of foodstuff, and back at our cars we set our tubes on the ground and ate.  I was delighted that Matt and Kerri brought IBC cream soda, which is a rare and special treat for me.  Miriam made a potato salad that everyone seemed to love, and people ate it with chips made out of dried beets.  It was blazing hot in the parking lot, so we didn’t bother waiting the suggested hour before returning to the river.  We reapplied sunscreen and hoofed it back to the tram and down once more to the river’s half-way mark.

Since I had totally dried out in the hot sun, I still gasped when I leaped into the chilly water.  But our second run was more relaxing than the first.  We had gotten the lay of the land, so to speak, and knew what hazards to watch out for.  So when a downed tree forced tubers through a narrow safe channel, or when the rare snail habitat came up quickly around a bend, we were ready to avoid them.  The river was somewhat less crowded, and I remember looking up at the sun shining through the cypress trees and thinking how enjoyable the whole experience was.

There are no signs on the Ichetuckneee River telling tubers how far they are from the end of the run.  You just become familiar with the landmarks on the way.  The fallen tree that hangs over the water that people jump from; the cave; and the power lines all provide clues to your whereabouts.  The power lines mean you’re near the end.  You see them crossing over the river, then around the next bend a sign tells tubers to move to the left to exit.  The river ahead becomes rougher, apparently, and further on it exits the park altogether.  A net is there to catch any tubes or riders that miss the exit.  If you do it right you can stay seated in your tube until you are safely over the dock, then stand up without completely submerging yourself.  We all made it out alive.  Robin distributed our flip-flops, which she had carried with her in a mesh bag for safety.  We walked together up to the tube drop-off, and waited for the tram to take us back to the parking lot.  It was late in the afternoon, and we were all starving, but it was a Sunday, so our hopes for dinner at Conestoga’s in “downtown beautiful Alachua” were thwarted.  In fact, all the restaurants we thought of nearby were closed.  We returned to Gainesville.

We returned to the Ichetucknee again in August.  Kyle and Adrienne couldn’t make it then, but a few other friends could, including Emma, and Kerri’s sister Kristen.  Sara brought her twin brother, and he seemed to enjoy it a great deal.  We had a full-scale picnic, complete with barbecue.  It was twice as crowded then, but still very fun.

The Ichetucknee is seventy-two degrees year-round, but I suppose it will be next summer before I go back down to the river.

Filed under: Friends, Recreation on September 7th, 2010 | No Comments »

Though summer in this hemisphere does not technically begin until late June, by the middle of May it was already well underway in Gainesville.  The weather was warm, all the college students were out of town, and I had three full months before I had to be back at school.

On Friday, 15 May, our friends Matt and Kerri, who had been legally married for several months, finally hosted a reception at the Thomas Center gardens in northeast Gainesville.  Miriam and I dressed pretty and arrived somewhat early, so that we observed the caterers setting up tables and the band plugging in instruments.  Soon enough, all our other friends arrived, food was served, and Matt and Kerri wandered around greeting everyone.  There was an open bar, so I took advantage and drank many an IBC Root Beer.  The gardens looked beautiful after dark, since the newlyweds had carefully strung lights and hung decorations.  They gave out as favors some fake mustaches, and many guests were wearing them.  The band was talented, and though people didn’t dance so much, everyone appeared to be having a good time.  Such a good time, in fact, that some time after nine o’clock the police arrived.  Kerri greeted the officer wearing a fake mustache and explained that she and Matt had obtained a noise permit in advance.  The party continued.  In fact, it would have kept going had the Thomas Center staff not begun removing the tables and chairs.  It was well after ten o’clock when we all disbanded, but only to be parted for a few hours.

Many of the party guests were roller derby girls, and the team was holding a car wash the following morning at Coffee Culture on 13th Street.  That place seems to like the Gainesville Roller Rebels: they even have a drink called a “Ruby Typhoon”.  The team had held successful car washes there before, and this was a good opportunity to raise money for charity.  Miriam and others arrived quite early, but I stopped by later on my way to work.  I was glad that Harris was there.  He’s fun to talk to.   Sara brought Coleslaw, which amused everyone.  Tradition has it that everyone will meet at Big Lou’s following a GRR carwash, and when I got out of work I rode my bike over there.  Alas, we sat outside in the sweltering heat.

While I went Swimming at Kat and Harris’ apartment, Miriam spent the afternoon preparing food to take to a surprise birthday party for our friend Kyle that his girlfriend Adrienne was holding at her apartment.  Guests were advised to dress like Kyle, which for some meant wearing glasses.  Many of Kyle’s friends were there, and we all socialized until he was brought home unaware, we hoped, of the party that was waiting for him.  Kyle thought he was just coming over to Adrienne’s for a quiet dinner after having some drinks with friends at the Top.  You know how you become suspicious when your birthday is coming up, and people begin acting strange?   As the party went on, and reports came in describing Kyle’s whereabouts, we began to worry that the secret would get out.  At one point, Matt, who was with Kyle, informed Adrienne that Kyle had wanted to go to his own apartment.  This was bad, because all the party guests had parked in front of Kyle’s apartment.  When he observed the vehicles of all his friends he would be sure something was up.  But we hid anyway.  Some of us hid, that is.  A few friends stayed in the dining room, figuring that we could still get him even if he was suspicious by making him think that he was having a small party, then, Surprise!, we all jump out of Adrienne’s bedroom and it’s a big party.  So Adrienne tells us it’s time to hide, and we go in her room and turn off the lights and wait.  Kerri and I kept watch out the window, waiting for the boys to come up the steps.  After what seemed like forever, they finally arrived.  When he entered the house Adrienne was going to ask him to fetch something for her from her bathroom.  Sure enough, he opened the door, and I think we almost gave him a heart attack, if not from the surprise itself, then from the sheer amplitude of our shouting.  Everyone ate because there was seriously a lot of food, and Adrienne presented Kyle with a cake.  We partied until the early morning hours.

The next day (Sunday), Miriam and I awoke and readied ourselves for a little day trip to St. Augustine and the beach.  The weather was nice, and after a long search we found good parking in the old historic district of the city.  Everywhere you looked couples were walking hand-in-hand.  Unfortunately, the service was terrible at the restaurant where we ate lunch.  But after that unpleasant experience we took A1A south to Marineland and found a nearly deserted stretch of beach.  By the time we left we were the only ones there.  Alas, I forgot my camera, so all I got were cellphone pictures.  But it was a lovely Sunday, and the perfect end to an epic weekend.

Filed under: Food, Friends, Gainesville, General, Recreation, Special Occasions, Travel on August 14th, 2010 | No Comments »

Although it is raining lightly as I write this, the weather has lately improved.  Highs near seventy degrees, clear or partly-cloudy skies, beautiful sunsets, and so on.  So, last night I went to a baseball game with my friend Marty.  He’s as big a sports fan as anyone I know.  He’s the kind of guy who actually keeps score while watching the game.

Florida State University was playing Florida at McKethan Stadium here at UF.  It is a lovely park, with a particularly fine view of great pines and some of the taller campus landmarks.  Marty met me there.  He even brought me a drink down from the press box.  My free ticket also entitled me to a free “Beat FSU” t-shirt, which I gave to Marty.  We sat up on the third base side, above the Gators dugout.

The game got off to a rough start.  FSU scored three runs in the first inning, then another two in the second.  UF scored a couple runs early on, which kept me from feeling hopeless.  But that would be it for FSU.  They hardly got another hit after the second, and their pitching deteriorated in a manner that was uncomfortable to watch.  Literally.  The changed pitchers at least six times, and by the seventh inning, with the sun having already set, and the wind having picked up, it was cold.  Hundreds–maybe even thousands–of fans who had arrived at the game wearing only shorts and short-sleeved shirts fled.  Those who stayed–Marty and me included–just wanted the game to end.  But FSU’s pitching troubles continued, and they had so many conferences on the mound, followed by pitching changes, and new-pitcher-warm-ups, that the dedicated fans who stayed nevertheless felt the urge to boo.  It got ugly in the bottom of the eighth, with the wind howling through the stadium, when the catcher once again walked from the plate out to the mound.  It wasn’t Disco Demolition Night, but there was loud, angry heckling, and many cries of “let’s just get this over with!”

Florida won eight to five, and I biked home in the dark and cold.  But it was great, and I look forward to doing it again.

Filed under: Friends, Meteorology, Sports on March 17th, 2010 | 1 Comment »