August 1, 2020

Yesteryear
One year ago today: August 1. 2019, not one big happy.
Five years ago today: August 1. 2015, Deland anniversary coincidence.
Nine years ago today: August 1. 2011, “ologists”
Random years ago today: Auguwt 1, 2003, very early blog picture.

           Aha, missing day. That means adventure. It as back to St. Augustine for 24 hours of R&R, much overdue and when you live in south Florida, too long you need reassurance the US is still full of gorgeous, young, skinny white women. My early start didn’t get going until almost noon, I took the scenic route north, the east to Daytona. (I passsed through Deland, found out later it was five years tot the day.) The countryside is not that bad once you get out of theTampa-Orlando corridor. This break was a combo of beer and culture for me. We finally got to the Lightner Museum, shown here, but that comes later, maybe tomorrow.

           We walked the downtown, one of the better tourist traps in Florida. The city was established 1565 and if you are not sure how old that is, drive your car over what they call pavement. We didn’t into the fort, but we nearby most of the time. There are still some street performers but the city has gotten rid of the freedom of speech bunch that make nuisances of themselves.

           First thing, get all the gift and postcard shopping done. There ones stretch that’s kind of the main drag, stay on the shady side and an easy 15 minute stroll each way. I found one of those toffee places that has the mixmaster machine in the window so I had sample 25 artificial flavors. Some were better, most were average, my guess is 90+ types not counting the sugar free. Think around $7 a pound. It was mostly window shopping, we got there around 4:00PM after a horrible time finding parking. Worse than Titusville, we finally chose the $11 lot and walked back.

           It was too early for live entertainment so we toured the area, me gawking at castles that were now universities, the liberal arts kind where the rich send their offspring too dumb to get into Yale. The place is deserted in the summer but for the tourists. It’s family-friendly. Once again, we don’t look like either the locals or like tourists, so we had a lot of women looking. But gals, we are nice guys and we are not going to chat you up when you have a date. That goes double when he looks like Tonto or like he’s out on bail.

           Next stop was the museum but it was too near closing time. Across the street we found a super swank hotel. Good call, the A/C was climate control and although it was posh, the staff wasn’t snobby. Trent went for the mint juleps, myself, I find all mint too bitter and juleps might taste better without that horrible whiskey the put in there. This was a long happy hour once we noticed the hotel was a magnet for ultra-rich skinny women in $800 outfits. Eye candy, some of them had the best bodies money can buy. We finally got out of there and headed across the bridge for munchies.
           The old hotel was still there, now all spruced up. In no mood by now to crash in the car, I shelled out, we parked the car and walked over to that British pub I never did like. But they have Karaoke, and it is just as bad. Even when nobody is there, they only allow you one tune per hour, filling the rest the DJ junk and the host singing a lot too much. But we were famished and shared two orders of fish & chips, the malt vinegar thing. But other than this cutie of a housewife there cheating on her husband the women were too British for use, so we took an uber backdown.

           This time they had a Johnny D clone playing twelve-string at the Tradewinds, a once-hopping spot that has lost out to demographics. The place was full of old people listening to Neil Young tunes and staying six-feet apart. All the good looking women had dates, the others had husbands. Enough of that that, we strolled over to the Tini Martini, by now a few sheets to the wind. At least over there they still real college babes waiting the tables. It’s right across from bay and great for girl watching. But one other thing, gals, is even I won’t approach groups of four or more. It’s not good policy.

Picture of the day.
Russian pocelain.
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           Here's the guitar player, the guy who could be Johnny D’s kid brother. The material was unfamiliar but he had the sound down right. Trent noted the $3,000 guitar and custom stage mixer. But hey, if this is what you do for living. We stopped twice at the Tradewinds, one waiting for the taxi and again later that even. They had a different band, a three piece of drums, rhythm and a lead player. They had done their homework and the sound was polished. But this nonsense six feet distancing and no dancing allowed, that is USA bullshit in its purest form. You ladies can grt drunk and screw strangers tonight, but you can’t dance with them.

           Tourists beware of most Florida towns. They are not the fun times depicted here. Most are geared down to charging you as much money as they can to eat, screw, and drink. That’s it. Anything cultural or academic, forget it. We were the only people in that massive museum, pictures. Plus a critique of the “American formula” for musuems. The downtown of St. Augustine is not bad, but most places are a plastic wasteland with DisneyWorld near the top of the list. Who pays $100 a day to go to a shopping center? Only the people who have not been there before.

           You can’t go wrong with St. Augustine because they know they have not much besides that tourist trade. We found prices reasonable. Except the motel. It was my idea we crash and go see the museum in the morning so we’d have time to browse. In 2013, the room was $39. This time, $98. Mind you, they’ve really spruced the place up. There are still only two outlets per room and the free coffee tastes like sandpaper, but the place is spotless and should rate an extra star.
           For off season and a broiling day, there were a surprising lot of people. There are a number of coffee shops that outwardly look like the real thing but are high-priced and the atmosphere is acidic libtard. Top-knots are nothing new, guys. We not only had them back in my day, they were just as stylish and the exact same stripe of men wore them. And If I can think of any that went on to make something of themselves, I’ll be sure to list them here. No, really, I promise.

ADDENDUM

           Here’s a mint julep, the real thing. What was the name of that hotel? I keep thinking Mona Carona. The copper mugs are unique to some local brewery and if you have the bucks, they are avaiable as souvenirs. The only thing that I would sum up today with is the number of good-looking women. I no longer live in a city so I’m happy if I see one a day. But hands down, the Mona Carona takes the blue ribbon for the best. Classy, in shape, no tattoos, behaved, elegant, and easy on the makeup. But it’s a lounge and we wanted some live country or rock so it was downtown after supper. There were several lineups due to virus occupancy restrictions, but in each case the doorman just waved us in.
           Would I recommend St. Augustine? Yes, but only if you were going near there anyway. Don’t fly cross-country expecting easy pickings. It’s still a small enough city that several places we got to had that distinct us-and-them toward strangers. And you know how well I blend in with locals—unless I’m on stage. In that case, I’m the goodesf ole boy in town, yup-yup.

Last Laugh