Wow. Where do I begin describing this past weekend? One thing is for sure, I beat my own record for hanging out on the island (beach)! Hope this isn’t too long for your short attention spans! I think you will find it worth it.

Got my Jack Johnson autographed guitar. A nice new Epiphone acoustic. I might start playing again.

Anyway, Friday night I went out with a customer of mine named Pablo. Pablo is a 54 year old Cuban man (though he does not look that old) who owns and operates a distribution company in Hialeah (a cityscape and culture that warrants its own entry someday). His company sells to “roach coach” operators. “Roach coach” is politically incorrect so we now refer to them in the business as “mobile caterers” or “lunch trucks” or in Espanol; luncheros (spelled something like that). Pablo has lived in the South and Midwest and has actually been to my home town of Rock Hill, SC for softball tournaments with his girls. Pablo is going through a nasty divorce and I told him if he was ever up my way to let me know and I would take him out for some distraction. I can think of no better place to take a man going through a nasty divorce than The Cove for happy hour on Friday. The Cove bar and restaurant is on the intercoastal waterway and has all of the accoutrements you would expect and on this one day of the week the most beautiful women in the world fill every nook and cranny of the place. Beautiful people in general. Funny thing is, Pablo looks and sounds just like Cheech Marin of Cheech and Chong fame. Not the hippy look from back in the day but the way he looks now on the TV detective shows and bit parts in movies. So there we were in our south Florida attire, very ethnic, looking like Crocker and Tubs from the new Miami Vice movie, sipping our cocktails and watching the boats and the women go by. Its good being a local and getting the special treatment too. Then I took him to the island. It was a fun time had by all. Mission accomplished. Go Pablo!

Saturday I went down to the island around dusk, just in time to use a free drink chip from Luna Rosa that I found in my pocket. I met up with some friends and we went to the Brazilian Festival. It’s one of the largest in the country. They close off the road along the beach and there is a big stage and all kinds of Brazilian food, crafts and clothes. I got to see Nestor Torres. He was killer! He is an international Brazilian recording star. I am sure you heard his music at some point in time. He is a jazz/new age flutist who plays dreamy mood music with a Latin flair and also smoking hot sambas and such.

http://www.nestortorres.com/

There was a real good vibe in the audience and we were all dancing and partying like we were at Carnival in Rio. They dance this hot little dance where they take fast little baby steps to each beat and swing there hips. Let me tell you, nobody can swing hips like a Brazilian. The women were stunningly beautiful and I can certainly see the allure. There are some small crappy pics in the gallery from my cell phone if you are interested.

Here is a thought I have had:
If it was 1720 and I was forced by a press gang to sail on a wooden British vessel out to sea for months, watching my shipmates die of scurvy and god knows what, rats everywhere, the stench of the bilge, pirates, storms, eating my last hardtack biscuit and we suddenly landed on Haiti or Puerto Rico or Fiji or Brazil or wherever there were half naked native chicks in paradise greeting me like an animal that has never seen it’s natural enemy, there is no friggin’ way I would ever get back on that boat!

Sunday, besides the Brazilian Festival our beach hosted the International Superboat Races, Some of which are 50’ long, have 24 cylinders and go 170 mph.

http://www.sun-sentinel.com/sports/outdoors/sfl-waters07oct07,0,4593575.column

http://www.virtualthunder.com/speedways/trackstatus.asp?tid=1590

That too is a weekend long event. The boats are on display at a real nice park around the corner from my place. There are parties and the teams, fans and media are at the local bars and restaurants. I packed everything I would need for an extended stay and I went down to the beach about 9 AM, rented a couple of lounge chairs and picked a nice spot just south of the pier where the reggae music or Brazilian bands from the festival as well as the commentary from the race (which started at 1 PM) is piped in for all to hear. 82 degrees, blue sky, crystal clear water, cigarette boats thundering by throwing up rooster tails and going airborne, the helicopters following close at water level taking pictures and assisting their team, Brazilian bikinis everywhere. I remember thinking how fortunate I was to be there, and it’s all free and easy. My day could have easily been a grand prize from a contest that any of us would have liked to win. But it gets even more interesting. I was supposed to go with my upstairs neighbor, Robin, but it turns out she had misbehaved the night before and could not make it. So I started calling my friends and told them I was just south of lifeguard station 2, at the high water mark. Well, the only one who showed up was a local named Jennifer. She likes the beach so I met her at noon at Rattlesnake Jake’s where I was just finishing up an early lunch of fresh rare sesame seared tuna (pure protein) and my first beer of the day before returning to my spot on the beach. I feel compelled to tell you about my friend Jenny. I can call her “Jenny” if I am talking to her in my southern accent, “Jennifer” if I am speaking with the northern accent from my childhood (which has come back since I moved here). Jennifer is a beautiful 31 year old 5’ 6” woman with a slender and lovely figure, half Irish and half Lithuanian, bright hazel eyes with a hint of blue and shoulder length dark curly hair. Her nickname is Lion because of her mane she had when her hair was longer. I think it could have something to do with her demeanor as well. She has a pleasant voice and speaks with a lulling, rambling cadence. She is intelligent with an IQ probably over 160. She’s inquisitive and a little dangerous. She has dainty and meaningful tattoos on the small of her back and on her ankle. Her tongue is pierced in two places, front and back as well as her belly button. She is vibrant and has a really great, sort of square jawed smile. She was an exotic dancer in South Beach for a couple of years so her movement is very fluid and she is very comfortable with her body and her sexuality. She is fun to be around. She is very open and honest and she strives for good Karma in her life but often succumbs to her own insecurity and makes poor choices. Those choices often effect others adversely even though I don't think that's her initial plan/intention. Unfortunately, she has been spoiled or pampered by men for much of her life to the detriment of her own independence. She wiggles in her chair like a little school girl and I don’t think she even realizes that she just exudes a natural eroticism and sensuality at every move, look, glance or flinch (which makes it hard for me to stay on task when I am with her). Basically pretty hot, huh? That’s the good news. The bad news is that Jennifer is also a self-confessed bipolar patient with a disintegrating family and infrastructure, a somewhat sordid past, victim to strange twists of fate and currently unable to afford her meds. Does that shed any light on the above description or juxtaposition thereof? Here is an interesting observation: Other woman do not like Jennifer. They simply make eye contact and the claws come out and the hair on their neck bristles. It’s as though she sees something in them and visa versa or like they perceive her as a threat. Very primeval. You would have to experience seeing it to believe it. Best of all it seems to work best on women who know me well and who are unavailable. I mean unavailable to me either because of their age or because they are already in a relationship or whatever. Maybe they’re just jealous. Maybe they are just mothering me because they like me and don’t want me to make a mistake. I understand that Jennifer is a femme fatale and knowledge is power. You just keep that in the back of your head. They need not worry as I am a big boy and experienced in the ways of the world and can maintain a simple friendship with a woman. I’m not sure why the other women act like they do, but I DO know that it exposes their feelings for me sure enough. I have heard that if you are seen in the company of a beautiful woman that other beautiful women want you more. Might be some truth to that after all. All I know is that Jenny is a nice person and a lot of fun to hang out with. Heck, she even likes checking out the other girls with me! What more can a guy ask for. There is certainly never a dull moment when you are with her and she helped me enjoy my Sunday immensely. Thanks friend! I’ve got your back. By the way, I told her I would show her this for her approval before I posted it. How cool is that?

Oh, Heather (aliasqueen), after our last correspondence regarding the Burmese pythons in the everglades I saw on the news that night that a maintenance crew from the Florida Water Management Dept. was mowing tall grass around a facility out there and during the course of the day they ran over and killed 6 of them. The longest was 10’. Then today there was an article in the paper about one eating a ladies 18 pound cat. They’re taking over! By the way, I added your blog to my favorites as a link for others. TTYL. Joe

Attention all: I posted a picture in my gallery of my older sister with Napoleon. Napoleon Dynamite, that is. My weird sister did not want her face or the name of her business on the web so I changed her to protect the ignorant. Why pass up any free publicity?
Also, I just got a new digital camera so good stuff should be forthcoming. . Ya’ll come back now, here?

I was in north Fl this weekend attending a work related event that was visited primarily by blind people. To maintain innocence I will not give details as many of these folks are computer savvy to offset the disability. I mean no disrespect but this could easily have been a Marvel Comics moment where, maybe, mutants gathered to be interviewed by Dr Xavier to become X-men. Normally I dress up in a suit and tie for work. I could have gotten away with one of those t-shirts with a tuxedo printed on the front for this gig since most were visually impaired. Joke. But seriousely, no disrespect implied.
I took the Turnpike north and most of the way south of Orlando the landscape resembles a windblown African savannah in the rainy season (minus the giraffes and elephants and such but they do have the birds). Actually it looks like the highway that might lead to the parking lot of Jurassic Park. You could easily envision a heard of stampeding dome skulled vegetarian dinosaurs being hunted by a T-rex or compies chirping in the underbrush. Anyway, you can see for miles and there were lots of beautiful cloud formations and the sun was at about 4 o'clock. The road, though it appears straight, is actually a gradual zig-zag northward. The storm clouds merged and separated and were visibly dumping copious amounts of rain in the distance in all directions. The weird thing was is that for a couple of hours every time the road zigged or zagged I was heading into the only dry sunlit tunnel in the clouds. It was an ephemeral drive.
Played golf at The Panther at Orange National on Friday. I'm a lousy golfer but the cool thing is that it is like playing golf in the very same African savannah described above.
We are on the cusp of the dry season now and I am looking forward to it and the changes to the weather that it brings.

I was anything but a productive human this past weekend. Saturday I spent 13 hours on the beach. I don't mean all of them on the sand, I mean at the beach. I laid out and swam (great waves from the storms and a lot of fan coral, sponges, shells and other interesting things washed up and there was a seahorse in the surf but he did not look that healthy) and went and ate and took a long walk on the beach (3 miles, barefoot in the soft sand, good workout) and laid out again and swam again and went and ate again.... I set a new personal record by actually eating all three meals at Rattlesnake Jake's (my local watering hole). I actually saw people leave and return later after changing. I bring my beach duffle and it has everything I need for an extended day out there and I shower at the beach. Party in the evening. It was a well deserved totally relaxing day that I do not often reward myself with.
I went to my first Dolphins game on Sunday. They were playing the Carolina Panthers (the team I root for). I was invited by my friend Shorty who has season tickets. By the way, lots of people have nicknames here, especially the beach locals and fishermen. There's Shorty (who of course is a very large man) and Flats, Hammerhead, Pauly (AKA The Paulinator), Rasta, Flan, Flounder, Junior (owns Rattlesnake Jake's), Snoopy and Tex. As you might imagine, I have been called a lot of things, but nothing has stuck. Where was I? Anyway, I went to the game and we did the tailgate thing. It was great. When I got into the stadium I was the only guy in my section that was wearing a Panther Jersey. I caught quite a bit of crap but mostly everyone was nice. I wore my sneakers in case I had to run and brought an extra t-shirt in case I had to hide. Funny thing was, when I started getting crap I told them all that the Panthers were going to win by 3 points in the last 2 minutes of the game. I took some bets to shut them up but knowing the Panthers history and the spread there were pretty good odds that the game would end that way. It was 2 minutes left, tie game, the Panthers were driving the ball, just a hair outside of field goal range and it was looking pretty damn good for me. I was surrounded by some very pissy looking faces. Then the Panthers threw an interception and my chances were crushed. I only lost 10 bucks for the day and actually might have had a hard time getting out of there alive if I called that one right. Then to the beach again after the game to close out another long day. What a weekend! I promise I will be good all week. I have a ton of work I need to get caught up on and a hard week ahead.

Rita looks bad. Now 3rd worst/biggest storm in history. Sad to say but it would be better to hit New Orleans again. Everybody gone and not much left to destroy. Would save us another $200 billion.
I met an interesting guy tonight. He said he just got in from Brazil. Said they tried to fly over Rita but it was growing so fast they hit bad turbulence and had to end up climbing to almost 47,000 feet. Is that possible? He said the plane was beginning to freeze outside (and in) and that peoples noses and ears were bleeding and all were scared and in pain. Said he had taken the flight 50 times and had also been downed twice in Nam in helicopters and this was worse. Speaking of bad plane rides, did you see the emergency landing of the Jet Blue plane on TV. Remarkable. All the positive energy that watching Americans conveyed to the pilot surely helped. Anyway, this guy could have been full of shit but it was an interesting and entertaining conversation anyway. Heard about the land he is buying on the water at ridiculous prices in Brazil and the scenery and how he is a career Navy man and what his friend at the Pentagon said and his kid that is going to be born in Brazil and blah, blah, blah, blah......
He also told me some, what he said was confidential info that I could not share, regarding a secret project we will hear about soon. I know some details and If it gets reported as he said I will verify on this blog that I heard correctly but I will not reveal now in case he really was too drunk or something and I would be revealing any National secrets.
Something funny: The running gag at the local watering hole tonight was that Bush was responsible for everything. The plane troubles, the hurricanes, everything, all Bush's fault. Just a funny segue between topics of conversation. Nobody was serious. Well, one guy was.
Thanks for listening to me babble. Come back and check out previous entries too. Bye!

Well, I experienced my seventh hurricane today. I only count the storms that are a threat. The ones where I am in the “cone of error” (which we jokingly call “the cone of death” when we see it on TV). Just those that pass close enough that I feel a strong physical effect where I live and sometimes where I travel. Others have caused wind and rain but were no eminent threat. The first big storm was Hugo when I lived in SC. Then there was Charlie, Francis (last time I evacuate), Ivan and Jeanne (spelled the same way as a very important person in my life but we won’t go there). Katrina. A category 1 when it hit here first. I drank beer at my local watering hole at the beach and watched it come ashore. And now Rita.
Rita was about 180+ miles from where I live when I went out this morning to go to a confirmed appointment with a new customer. Still a tropical storm. I traveled to Doral (you know, The Blue Monster, PGA Tour and all) which is in South Miami-Dade and a lot closer to the eye of the storm. The place was like a ghost town which was actually nice. There was no traffic for a change and I made it there in record time. I had never been there. It was a lot different than I expected. Fairly new building and mostly warehouse, offices and light industry where I was. I got stood up but I forgive the guy because his cell service was down from the storm and he could not call me. So he says anyway. Mine worked fine but he’s the customer you know. Anyway, what I was getting around to saying was that it was a stiff 30 mph constant breeze but no rain. Just overcast with the clouds moving fast but at high altitude. Off in the distance the horizon became a black wall like a big black curtain. What mariners would call “one hellava squall line”. It got closer, and closer, and suddenly, I was in the hurricane. Actually it was probably a tightly wound feeder band. It was a terrible beauty though. Very defined. I wish I had my camera. I could imagine what it would be like to be a sailor in 1720 on a small wooden sailing ship in the middle of the Atlantic for months and see that barreling down on my ass. You would have to lower the sails quickly and hope for the best. Driving was a little difficult but it was worth seeing and here I am. Just another day in paradise.

I HAVE SINCE FOUND A PICTURE THAT LOOKS ALMOST LIKE THE SQUALL LINE I DESCRIBED ABOVE> IT IS IN MY GALLERY FOR YOUR REVIEW.