Yesterday afternoon we walked along the shore of Matanzas Bay to the marina just south of the Bridge of Lions. On the street side of the walkway a miniature golf course lies cleverly hidden among groomed hedges. On the water side, many millions of dollars worth of yachts are tied up to the marina docks. The largest is probably a hundred feet long, the smallest maybe twenty feet. Almost all are white. Is there some significance to that or is it just the least expensive marine paint one can buy?
I think if I had a hundred foot long yacht, I'd paint it burgundy. I remember the custom automobiles popular in my youth - cars from the forties and fifties, nosed, decked, chopped, channeled, and painted with innumerable coats of burgundy laquer (those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, find a guy in his mid to late sixties and ask.) The Rod and Custom Magazine photos were drool-inspiring. Yeah, burgundy with white trim would be perfect for my yacht.
As evening approached, we wound our way through the cobbled streets to Pot Belly's Cinema Plus, a funky little four-plex just across Granada from the Lightner Museum. It is a hard place to describe - think pack rat heaven. On the left as one enters the "lobby" is a display case with a couple of hundred PEZ dispensers of various themes. Straight ahead is another, very large display case containing "collectibles" - everything from dress swords to bedpans and whatever you might think of in between.
We saw The Fighter in Cinema Four, alone. I asked the proprietor about the lack of patrons after the show and he assured me it was fine. The film had been there for eight weeks with better than expected attendance.
Before I leave this funky little place I have to add a bit to its description; it is one of only two theaters I've attended in the US that serves food with the movie. One can buy sandwiches, soft drinks, wine and beer
and enjoy the film while eating. The other was also in Florida. I think it's a terrific idea and am surprised it hasn't cropped up elsewhere. Okay, maybe it has, but not in Tom's world.
We left our retreat relaxed and reluctant, but ready to be home. Our flights were uneventful and I sit writing this in Barnes & Noble in Poughkeepsie while my spouse discusses the latest reading with her No Boys Allowed book club and I sit in a corner out of sight.
I think if I had a hundred foot long yacht, I'd paint it burgundy. I remember the custom automobiles popular in my youth - cars from the forties and fifties, nosed, decked, chopped, channeled, and painted with innumerable coats of burgundy laquer (those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, find a guy in his mid to late sixties and ask.) The Rod and Custom Magazine photos were drool-inspiring. Yeah, burgundy with white trim would be perfect for my yacht.
As evening approached, we wound our way through the cobbled streets to Pot Belly's Cinema Plus, a funky little four-plex just across Granada from the Lightner Museum. It is a hard place to describe - think pack rat heaven. On the left as one enters the "lobby" is a display case with a couple of hundred PEZ dispensers of various themes. Straight ahead is another, very large display case containing "collectibles" - everything from dress swords to bedpans and whatever you might think of in between.
We saw The Fighter in Cinema Four, alone. I asked the proprietor about the lack of patrons after the show and he assured me it was fine. The film had been there for eight weeks with better than expected attendance.
Before I leave this funky little place I have to add a bit to its description; it is one of only two theaters I've attended in the US that serves food with the movie. One can buy sandwiches, soft drinks, wine and beer
and enjoy the film while eating. The other was also in Florida. I think it's a terrific idea and am surprised it hasn't cropped up elsewhere. Okay, maybe it has, but not in Tom's world.
We left our retreat relaxed and reluctant, but ready to be home. Our flights were uneventful and I sit writing this in Barnes & Noble in Poughkeepsie while my spouse discusses the latest reading with her No Boys Allowed book club and I sit in a corner out of sight.
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Comments are always from "anonymous". Often I can identify the author by the content of the comment, but that much cogitation makes my 80 year-old brain tired. Please help out an old man and identify yourself within the text of the comment. Thanks for the comments whether or not you ID yourself. Tom