MY SECRET ADMIRER

After moving away from Pensacola in 1985 to get a "clean" start someplace else, I took the summer to get my head together and to figure out what I was going to do and how I was going to do it. One day while my children and I were at a secluded spot on St. Joe Beach, I spotted a man walking towards us in the shallow surf. He had long dark hair and dark, piercing eyes. Tanned and shirtless, he effortlessly navigated his way through the shallow surf. As he approached, I saw he was dragging something behind him on a line. My kids got excited when they saw all the fish he had caught. He stopped so they could investigate his catch.

As they frolicked in the water playing with his fish, he sat on the beach making smalltalk with me. As he eyed my lean, well-oiled body, I kept expecting him to make his move, but that never happened. When he left I watched him walk away until he was no longer in sight. It wasn't until that moment, I realized we hadn't even exchanged names. It was just a random meeting that meant nothing, but it remained stuck in my head for some reason. Who was that mystery man? Each day, we went back to the same spot, but I never saw him again. It really was just a brief meaningless encounter. By the end of summer, the trips to that secluded spot on the beach came to an end with the start of school. I also had taken a job at a local motel on Mexico Beach and worked my way very quickly from maid into the general manager's position. 

The owner, who was more than burnt out seemed eager to relinquish her duties to someone capable and willing to be manager so she could do other more important things like shop until she dropped and visit her daughter in Tallahassee a few hours away. As my life settled into the sterile reality of life without drugs, I seemed to work more and more until my life was filled with little else. One morning Robin (one of the maids) raced into the office to clock in before going to work. Before leaving, she turned and quickly told me I had a secret admirer almost as an afterthought. As she stood there waiting for me to respond, I noticed she had one of those "oh girl, you're gonna get it" smiles on her face. I looked up from the desk and coyly told her that I accept roses from all my secret admirers. What else could I say? 

The idea of having a secret admirer seemed ludicrous, but the very next day, a dozen long stem red roses were delivered to the motel with a card saying "I accept candlelit dinners!" I immediately looked around to see who was watching me. Was I on Candid Camera? I even wondered if one of the guests might have sent them. At first it felt creepy, but as I looked at the roses throughout the day I felt flattered and wondered what the man was like who had sent them to me. Curiosity got the better of me and by the end of the day being manager was at the bottom of my list of priorities. I had a new mission. I needed to meet my secret admirer. 

When Carol and Robin (mother and daughter) came to work the next day, I cornered them for details, but all they would tell me was that my secret admirer was a house guest of theirs from New York. He was family friend who was visiting and who had made some very typically male comments about me when he saw me a few times when he had dropped them off at work. I saw my interrogation wasn't going to net me any real information, so I was going to have to keep my eye out for this man, so I could discreetly check him out for myself. When I got home that evening, there was another dozen roses waiting for me with a card saying "Well?" 

I hardly slept that night wondering what thoughts were going through this man's head and what he wanted from me. I figured I knew what he wanted, but I guess what I really wondered was where all of this was heading. I had never played cat and mouse quite like this before and wondered if this was how it's done in New York. If so, maybe Florida wasn't where I needed to be! The next morning as I got ready for work, my thoughts were still on him...whoever he was. Should I meet him? If so, how should I meet him? Where should I meet him? When I went outside to leave, my car wouldn't start. Carol and Robin only lived a few blocks from me, so I called and asked if I could hitch a ride to work with them. 

Robin told me she'd be there in a few minutes to pick me up. A few minutes later, a car I had never seen before pulled into my driveway and sat idling by my backdoor, but no one got out! All of a sudden it hit me who was sitting in the car. My secret admirer had come to give me a ride to work! As calmly as I possible could, I walked towards the car and then hesitated before opening the door. As soon as I opened the door and slid into the front seat, this mystery man, my secret admirer wearing a huge smile on his face, asked me where I wanted to go. To my utter dismay, it was the fisherman I had met on the beach four months earlier. I asked him to drive me to the store before going to work if he didn't mind. 

He howled like a wolf in response. I laughed and thought I must be even crazier then he was to be in his car with him, a complete stranger. I made it to work eventually in one piece and without me asking, he was there to give me a ride home. He asked if he could look at my car, so I felt obligated to cook him dinner...no candles, but a meal that definitely started the ball rolling. For the next few days while my car was being repaired, he told me to use his car. Each day when I returned home, I fixed dinner and we seemed to fall into an easy way of doing things that felt right. He howled a lot and I laughed at him for doing it. And in those first few days, we had some of the most mind numbing sex I have ever had in my life. 

If nothing else, for me that definitely sealed the deal. Over and over again I asked myself, "Who is this mystery man?" And what did he really want from me? A few years later when the truth finally surfaced like it usually does if you wait long enough, I found out he had removed my distributor cap in the middle of the night to disable my car from starting. Our meeting from start to finish was just another one of his elaborate manipulations. When he let me borrow his car while he worked on mine, I discovered that he had a duffel bag full of laundry in his car that had somehow gotten wet. I asked him if he wanted me to wash and dry it before it mildewed and got ruined. He thanked me and said yes. 

When I had finished washing, drying and folding all his laundry, I asked him where he wanted me to put it. At that point, it seemed like a logical thing to ask since he hadn't left my house since the day I met him. He told me to put his stuff wherever I wanted to put it. I hesitated for only a second or two before walking into my bedroom and putting all his freshly laundered clothes away in the extra dresser I had in my bedroom. That decision started a 5 year relationship in which I learned that Italians and Irishmen are a fiery combination and one that would have been better suited by putting his clothes back in his duffel bag and sending him on his way. And as many times as I should have done exactly that, I rode it out for 5 years until I was just a broken shell of a person and all I had left was my very bruised survival instinct and shriveled ego. That bruised instinct was what finally saved me from my nemesis and secret admirer, the Anti-Christ as I affectionately called him. His real name was Sal and he was a very bad man.

BEAM ME UP, SCOTTY!

Nestled away on Pensacola Beach is this strange little house that seems to attract attention from anyone who drives past it...

According to the articles, the Futuro House heritage is traced as far back to 1889.

FOR THOSE WHO SHOULD BE REMEMBERED

I encourage anyone who visits the Pensacola area to take the time to visit these two memorials. They are located across the street from each other along Bayfront Parkway.

The National Memorial to Missing Children was the idea of Kathy Gaut, whose 19-year-old daughter disappeared from Pensacola in 1992. The odd bronze sculpture of two giant bronze forearms and hands arched over a naked mom, dad, and baby by Sarasota artist,  Sam Nettles, was dedicated in 2002. There have been complaints that homeless people sleep around the out-of-the-way memorial -- but the sculpture is named, after all, "The Sanctuary" and is located  across the street from the Veterans Memorial Park.

The Veterans Memorial Park is home of Wall South, the first permanent replica of the National Vietnam War Memorial. Founded in 1992 the Park has since grown and prospered. It now includes a WWI Memorial, a WWII Memorial, a Korean War Memorial, and a running series of plaques to honor local warriors who have fallen in the Global War on Terror. There is also a Purple Heart Memorial and a monument to the submarine lifeguards who rescued so many Navy pilots in WWII (including President George Herbert Walker Bash). Most recently, it is home to the Marine Corps Aviation Bell Tower, which has become a popular venue for local veteran's events and ceremonies. 

Our Park continues to grow. A Revolutionary War Memorial has been approved and will shortly join our other memorials. It will fill a gap of omission at the Park, honoring those whose sacrifice gave Americans a Nation worth defending. The next gap to be filled will be a memorial to honor the current generation of Americans who are fighting the Global War on Terror. Our community is steeped in military tradition and enriched with a strong military presence. The full range of service, sacrifice, duty and honor that comes with military service is amply illustrated in the example of our own citizens. This park is dedicated to the memories of those who sacrificed their lives in the defense of this nation. 

DEAR SANTA

With all the hoopla about Christmas today, I decided to cave in and make a Christmas list. At the top of my list is this house. It has always been my favorite one here in Pensacola. It over looks the bay and I believe I could feel right at home in this lavish monstrosity.

*Repost from November 9, 2011

AN AFTERNOON AT THE BEACH

Yesterday was a difficult day for me as I reflected on my mother's death and emptied a box a Kleenex by 10am. I felt grateful for my friend, Jesse who chatted with me up until I decided I needed to get out and get some fresh air and clear my head. Then my friend and partner in crime, Linda (Martha) took over. We took quick spin out to the beach. It wasn't a bright, sunny day, but that was okay...it was 76 and the day was more like how I felt. I wanted to be strong because that's how my mother would want me to be, but when you love someone and they are no longer there and are gone forever, it makes for a gray type of day. 

There was a hint of blue and every now and then the sun teased us and tried to come out.

The Redneck Riviera at her finest! lol

We drove past the parking lot and found a spot that looked good. Off in the distance you can see some higg rises and the good thing about this part of Florida is that it isn't wall to wall high rises yet.  This is what the beaches look like.

I didn't even see many seagulls out flying around. 

A lonely shell someone left behind.

As the waves flattened the surfers, got out of the water.

A hint of blue sky!

I was glad to see that the winter has been used to replace some of the boards on the boardwalks.

Our sand is almost as white as snow, but a lot better because it doesn't need to be shoveled!

A lovely pic of my knees!

And one of my knees and shoes! lol

This is Linda gazing off down the beach (most likely watching the men in their speedos) What a wicked woman she is!

Linda was scanning the horizon and is deep in thought. She didn't know I was taking her picture and claimed nobody ever gets a decent pic of her. Looks like I proved her wrong!

 

As you see there isn't many people out here and believe it or not even in the summer our beaches don't get super crowed.

 

One surfer who came out of the water and peeled off his wet suit had a wicked sunburn. Oh, he was going to feel it later that evening.

Just more sugar white sand as far as the eye can see and water.

When we first got there, people were out surfing, but the waves started dissipating soon after.

BUBBLE ALLEY

Bubble Alley's multi-colored aerial display of large balloons in the heart of downtown Pensacola is getting an encore and contract extension. The more than 3,000, 18-inch diameter balloons suspended over one block of Intendencia Street between Jefferson and Tarragona streets were originally scheduled to be on display Nov. 3-14. But due to the display's growing popularity among downtown visitors, the bubbles will remain in place through the end of the year and perhaps beyond, said Walker Wilson, Downtown Improvement Board executive director according to the article in the Pensacola News Journal.

I wish I could have gotten on top of one of the buildings to take a few pictures from there.

Twisted and Blue

I've always thought Banyan trees look so eerie. The first time I ever saw one was at the Ringling Bayfront Gardens in Sarasota, Florida. What's the strangest looking tree you can think of?

****

Years ago I bought a print of the Blue Madonna by Carlo Dolci that was hanging in the Ringling Museum of Art. Ordinarily something like this doesn't "speak" to me, but for some reason this did...

Do you have a piece of art that appeals to you that isn't in your normal wheelhouse?

Quarantined Day #2

 All is well on the good ship SS Quarantine in sunny Pensacola, Florida.  I got up before sunrise so I could go sit out back and watch and listen to the birds. Naturally, I forgot my phone and/or my camera or else I could have gotten some wonderful pictures. The birds are starting to let me get closer and closer to them. Each day I move my chair a little closer. Tomorrow, we'll see what happens. With my luck lately, the heavens will probably open up and one of Florida's famous torrential downpours will happen just when I sit down and get comfortable. Oh well, at least the flowers and trees and lawns and such will be happy and there's always another day.

I guess that's what I've learned through this whole ordeal and that's that there's always another day to get stuff done. People put too much stuff on their plate and stress themselves out about it. People, you need to stop it! Be kind to yourselves! Be kind to those around you! Enjoy your families and your time together. Find a reason to smile. Find a reason to laugh. Go get some fresh air even if it's only in your backyard. Sit down and relax and just breathe for awhile. For some people they never just breathe. They stay wound tighter than a top and those type of people are very hard to be around. Holy Hell! Do they even have a clue that it's like scaping a blackboard to be around them? I don't think they know

that or maybe they do know it and they don't care that they make people uncomfortable to be around them. Wow! That's scary because if they don't care that means they're real heavy duty grade A assholes and let's face it, we all know plenty of Type A summa cum laude assholes who are control freaks. Okay, Type A's,  you aren't magically excluded from this so you need to chill out and binge watch Northern Exposure (Four Seasons) or something. I would have to say Chris Stevens and I have the same philosophy in life. Imagine that! How many of you ever watched Northern Exposure or even remember it? OMG! Please, don't everyone say they loved Gilligan's Island, but hated Northern Exposure or better yet say WTF is Northern Exposure? Don't make me have to go chill out in the backyard and pump up the music! I hate when that happens!

P.S. The Blue Angels are practicing right now and so we're getting a free air show today.

Quarantined Day #1

What's with all the friggin' hoarding?  I can understand that people are freaked out over the coronavirus, but come on, be considerate of one another.  We all have to wipe our asses, right? We all have to eat, right?  And in my case, where I'm a diabetic, I have to test my blood sugar.  And because I have to test my blood sugar, I have to use alcohol swabs. But guess what I can't find anywhere? Okay, I can make do without them. I'll just wash my hands before testing with hot, soapy water. No big deal.  But it irks me that I have to make do without them because people have needlessly stockpiled alcohol swabs and have caused a shortage. Although I guess I'm rather used to that sort of thing because I live in Florida and during hurricane season people lose their mind every year. Try buying a loaf of bread, a battery, a bottle of water, a generator or anything else if a storm is anywhere near Florida.  But as Trumplethinskin, our fearless and quite sagely leader says this too shall pass, but only when it when it gets hot outside, remember? Heat is supposed to kill the virus according to Trump. Just where does he get his info? FOX News? Wait! It is hot! It was 80 degrees here today!  Sigh...a HUGE sigh and I'll be so glad when November passes. Please tell me that HUGE overgrown orange pompous boobette will be living somewhere other than in Washington DC after next January....PLEASE! Oh no! That’s right! He moved his official residence to fucking Florida! He doesn’t live in New York anymore. I’m going to cry. People that’s not funny on any level. So stop laughing! I can hear you snickering over there in the corner. I see you! Mildred sees EVERYTHING!

Now, for the big news of the day. Old Mildred got tested for coronavirus early this morning and while it wasn't on my bucket list of things to do, I did it because I have a 92-year-old mother living under the same roof as I do and well you see, Martha and I got exposed to the nasty "HOAX" Chinese virus somewhere in our travels and the Health Department tracked Martha down to let her know. That was so kind of them to do and that was so snarky of me to say :) Anyway, the nasal swab didn't bother me too much even though it felt like they were probing for lost brain cells from my misspent youth. Martha claimed she cried when they swabbed her and she couldn't see immediately afterwards. They must have hit her G-spot.

So, everyone living under both roofs are officially QUARANTINED until we get our results in 4 or 5 days. It sucks to be us!

The Definition of Confusion (Thank You, Mother)

Reposted from 3/15/2010 edited:

When my children were still quite young and in school, they used to visit their grandparents on school holidays. I would drive halfway to Pensacola to meet my mother and place my children in her care. The first few days always felt like utter bliss and then the house gradually became a mausoleum. By the time I would pick up my children, I was more than ready to have them come home again. I welcomed that deafening chaos and unruly banter that came with three children.

My mother was always rather rigid while I was growing up and had a very democratic way of handling punishment. If the guilty party didn't confess the first time when my brothers and I were asked who did something, we all suffered the consequences. As I grew older and eventually became a parent myself, the woman who raised me seemed to change. She got soft in her old age! Had I broken her spirit? Possibly! But each time my children would rave on about the fun-loving person who they perceived their grandmother to be, I knew it wasn't the same person who raised me. My mother was proof that aliens do exist! They has abducted my mother and left in her place a female Captain Kangaroo or would it date me too much if I said Shari Lewis and Lambchop? Ask anyone from my old neighborhood! They knew my mother was a force to be reckoned with. Her voice alone could raise the dead. 

Each time my children would go for a visit, it took weeks before I could straighten them out. My mother waited on them hand and foot and made them do NOTHING but fun things while they visited her. When they came home sassy and quite lazy, I would want to pull my hair out. One time while driving home, my children seemed quite mesmerized by a joke book one of them had gotten while in Pensacola. One of their visiting rituals was for her to take them (her angelic grandchildren) to Hawsey's, a used bookstore and let them each purchase a large paper bag full of books to read. All three of my children loved to read so going to Hawsey's was always a fun thing to do.

Since they were quiet on our trip home and this was an oddity for them, I tried to engage them in conversation only to be told they were busy reading jokes. That explained the occasional chuckle I heard from the backseat. I asked them to read me aloud some of the jokes. My youngest child, Matthew spoke up and said he would read one. Although he was only 7 at the time, his reading skills were quite advanced for someone his age. As Matthew read, I almost drove off the road.

Whats' the definition of "confusion"?

Twenty blind lesbians in a fish market!

WTF? Now, with glee they started reading more jokes from the book as fast as they could until I could gather my thoughts and ask them where they got the book. In unison they told me...HAWSEY'S! And of course I asked if  their grandmother let them buy that book? Well, I was told she never screened the books that they bought, so the book titled Truly Tasteless Jokes was easily purchased by my son, Daniel (age 9).

Then they all went on to start reciting the dirty little ditties my mother had taught them. It was then I knew she had truly lost her mind or maybe the rules that apply to being a parent were different from those that apply to being a grandparent. It definitely was a gotcha moment lovingly given to me by my mother. To this day, my mother just smiles innocently when this story is told. What I want to know is why she never taught my brothers and me these ditties when we were kids or why my grandmother never taught them to us? Geez! I feel cheated! 

An example of one of the my mother's ditties:

A flock of birds

Chocked full of turds

Flew over my father's castle

They stretched their necks

And shit a peck

Then closed up their assholes.

Gratitude statement: I'm thankful I don't live in a castle near a fish market.

MESSAGES FROM ABOVE

Every now and then I pay attention to billboards I see around town, Here are a few I've seen in my travels around the Redneck Riviera:

It looks like we might still be fighting the Civil War here.

Didn't anyone tell these folks the war was over in 1865?

That doesn't look like one nation under God to me.

This one gave me the creeps. Okay, I get it! Don't sleep with your baby!

You might smother your baby, but come on, a billboard?

What happened to common sense?

It looks like we have a local syphilis problem!

So go to your doctor.

Get some penicillin. End of story!

Oh yeah! We definitely have a syphilis problem

when I see at least 5 billboards in a few miles. 

So go see your doctor and stop spreading 

that stuff around you nasty scum buckets!

This one just seems crazy to me! I know there's people out

there who don't vaccinate their children, but they usually live to regret it

as soon as their child gets one or more childhood diseases.

I've never known anyone who gotten these things listed here from a vaccination.

When I was a child how childhood diseases were handled was if there was an outbreak of measles or chicken pox, you'd expose your child to them to get them over the disease. One winter when I was very young. I don't think I was even school age yet, I was very sick. I had one thing right after another. By Christmas, I was so weak I had to be carried downstairs to open my gifts. The one thing I didn't have that winter was chicken pox.

I saved that honor until I was 28 years old and my husband gave me a helluva case of chicken pox when he came home on leave. That's a post for another time...

I guess what I want to say here is why wouldn't anyone want to protect their child against getting this disease or any other disease? Any medicine has a risk of having a side effect. Does that mean don't take it? You take it with caution. You educate yourself. You arm yourself with the facts and then you do what you think is best. Some people think putting an unvaccinated child out in this germ filled world is what's best while others want to do everything they can do to safeguard their child. What do you think?

An afterthought: Don't schools require vaccinations in order to register your children for school? Is the way around that requirement to homeschool your children? These children are not only high risk to catching childhood diseases as adults, they also develop no social skills because they grow up being isolated from other children. Wow! Wow! Wow! And again wow!