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Yesteryear

Sunday, November 1, 2009

November 1, 2009

           Where is JP? The world wants to know. I was down in Miami at St. Jude’s annual festival, and it’s just not like him to miss out on all that food. Alaine was a volunteer server and invited me to visit. I see the turnout is a fraction of former years, and the bazaar is limited to jewelry and clothes. There was a Herbalife counter, with the usual over-friendly staff. The point is, the huge crowds are gone and so is the money if my spider sense is right.
           So we left over to Quizno’s, that is the top-award-winning location, best in town. They make a mean sandwich, including a new lobster filling, which is fantastic. Alaine noticed my bicycle in the Taurus and we got her tour bike out of the garage. She wanted to ride for twenty minutes, so I said nothing and we wound up covering 16 miles in just under two hours. You will never tucker me out on a bicycle.
           The terrain around her neighborhood is hilly by Florida standards, with peaks as high as two feet. The area is very similar to New Orleans with vine covered trees and live oak and here even bamboo grows well. We toured the scenic route including a church complex built of coral. You can’t do that any more, although some coral stone is reappearing on the market. The coral church had two bell towers so I’ve dubbed it the Alamo.
           Sadly, the morning was punctuated by news that Eric the Red passed away this morning. Shortly after, news that a lady from Churchill’s (the sort-of-English-pub) had also died earlier in the week. I dropped by but it was not anybody I knew very well. JP was not at the pub either, but who remembers Nicky, the Irish bartender? He must have thought I was a ghost by now.

           Back home with the cat is my only commitment this evening. Of all the side-effects to bring home from the hospital, my ankles are swollen up. Can’t put my shoes on. Had to sit and read, and watch another Roy Rogers movie. Some of those plots would be pretty ripe today, like when he tells Belle Starr she can “cook like a Chinaman”. Roy is also portrayed regularly as a “southern sympathizer” and the scripts are decidedly anti-north. The villains are often “yankees”. I suppose the Civil War was still fresh in a lot of minds in 1940. Like the Mafia, you don’t just leave the Union any time you please.
           While setting up the DVD, I noticed a documentary that contained new footage from WWII. There were new scenes of Tiger and Panther tanks, also depictions of suspiciously well-equipped German soldiers during the Battle of the Bulge. It took a minute to add 65 years to realize these must be the censored material the British release after that amount of time. If it is new from that source, it is remarkable how instantly it was broadcast. Ah, the age of computers.
           I actually bought a Sunday paper. The price is up to $1.50, showing you that the American management model is a dinosaur. Only in America do business managers raise prices during a recession, like Sea World. Times are bad so they raised the base price of each ticket to $80. I think those guys were in the back of my class. I actually heard one manager say they could not lower prices because it would attract more customers. When I pointed out that total revenues went up, he pointed out that meant more work, like that was a bad thing. Americans want to make a profit, not earn one.

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