Republicans Just Want To Have Fun
Siobhan and I drove down to Tampa last Friday to spend some time with my sisters Alice (the Republican) and Kathy (the good sister) prior to their cruise to Belize, Honduras and Cozumel. Who knows—the way the cruise industry is performing we may never see them again. Anyway, we picked them up at their nice hotel on the bay and delivered them to Ybor City for dinner at the famous old Columbia Restaurant (est. 1905). The last time we were in Ybor City the place was jumpin’. Now it looks like a cemetery with lights. Half the place is boarded up, the streets are quiet and, if it weren’t for the Columbia, there would be zilch reasons to go there anymore.
If you are going to the Columbia Restaurant, it is a good idea to go early. We were there at 6:30 and there were several open tables. When we left at eight, the place was packed and there was a long line of people out the door. Drinks were good, salads were good, desserts were WAY too big and service was great. Entrees were average. And they insisted on singing Happy Birthday to Alice despite specific instructions to the contrary. They also thought her name was Fran, for some reason, but what the hell, it’s the spirit of the thing that counts, right?
During dinner, Alice told me that when she got to Belize she was going to ride the Zip-line, which is what everybody does when they reach their 69th birthday. She said that she had secured Kathy’s promise that she, too, would ride the Zip-line, but Kathy seemed to be shaking her head in disagreement when Alice wasn’t looking. I am not a bit surprised at this news because Alice is a bit of a daredevil unless there are ferris wheels involved. Roller coasters hold no fear for Alice, who has even been known to drive her car on the notorious L.A. freeways and who, in high school, had aspirations of being a gang moll. A Zip-line is a mere piffle to such women. But what the hell IS a Zip-line, anyway? Well, it’s this:
Zip-line (Wikipedia)
A zip-line (also known as a flying fox, foefie slide, zip wire, aerial runway, death slide or tyrolean crossing consists of a pulley suspended on a cable mounted on an incline. It is designed to enable a user propelled by gravity to travel from the top to the bottom of the inclined cable, usually made of stainless steel, by holding on or attaching to the freely moving pulley. Zip-lines come in many forms, most often used as a means of entertainment. They may be short and low, intended for child’s play and found on some playgrounds. Longer and higher rides are often used as a means of accessing remote areas, such as a rainforest canopy. Zip-line tours are becoming popular vacation activities, found at outdoor adventure camps or upscale resorts, where there may be an element on a larger challenge or ropes course.
Those Wild And Crazy Guys
What the hell is going on with old people these days? In years past, they used to be content to go out in the back yard and play bocce ball or shuffleboard. Now, they’re out there on the Zip-line, for crying out loud. There could be unfortunate consequences, like medical issues. What if you can’t get the rescue helicopter down into the narrow canyon to save somebody with a heart irregularity? What if Auntie Bea panics and stops her Zip-line in the middle of its run, thus creating a gigantic snarl in the proceedings? These are important things to consider. So we wrote a little song. It doesn’t take much to provoke us.
Backup On The Zip-Line (Bill Killeen)
I heard it through the grapevine,
Backup on the Zip-line,
Grandma flipped her trick knee,
Grandpa couldn’t quite see;
Sadie had some late doubts,
Emma threw her back out,
Backup on the Zip-line….
Heard it through the grapevine,
Backup on the Zip-line,
Ezra threw the stop brake,
Martha almost hit Jake,
Freddie was a no go,
It’s better than the Late Show,
Backup on the Zip-Line….
Heard it through the grapevine,
Backup on the Zip-line,
Fibrillators goin’ wild
Hearing aids unreconciled;
Y’gotta give ‘em points for Heart,
After all, they’re old farts….
Backup on the Zip-line….
Of Local Interest
You’ll be surprised to discover that you don’t have to travel to exotic locales to enjoy the Zip-line experience if you live around here. That’s right, we’ve got our very own newly-installed Zip line in Ocala. Some optimists put the thing up on Gainesville Road at the corner of Rte. 326. I checked the other day just to be sure. This, of course, means that we will have to go down there and try it out, even though the price for the “tour” is a discouraging $89. This would be one thing if we were Zip-lining over beautiful canyons, azure lakes and jungle scenery but we’ve got a sneaking suspicion we’ll be traveling over spent quarries, sparse forestland and not much else. Maybe they give a senior discount.
Oh, To Be In England Now That February’s There….
Last week, you’ll be thrilled to know, more people read The Flying Pie than any other, even including the latter weeks of Stuart Bentler’s misadventure. We don’t know why this is unless it’s that people like pirate lore a lot more than we thought. And everybody does want to keep up with Alice. But these explanations seem inadequate. I guess we might include the fact that FORTY-TWO people in the United Kingdom clocked in for some reason, which is about forty more than usual. This could mean that forty-two actual people read our column, which is hard to believe, or that one guy read it 42 times, which is downright impossible to believe, or that 21 people read it twice each or that….well, you get the idea.
We’ve reached out to these foreigners before to no avail. We had our Chinese period, where five or six readers kept showing up in China for weeks on end. Then, we had our guy in Denmark who stayed around for months. We’ve still got somebody in Pelotas, Brazil, who reads us every week, and we’ve got no idea who he is, either. In the past, we’ve politely requested a G-mail asking the outlanders to let us know a little about themselves and how they found us—alas, a fruitless request. But we never give up, especially since England is such a reliable ally. How about a shout out, U.K.? We promise we won’t let Alice visit.
Return Of The Three Stooges
The Republican Presidential candidates rage on in their neverending battle for truth, justice and the American Way (they’re all against each). The whole affair has finally received the attention of Fidel Castro, who remarked “the selection of a Republican candidate for the presidency of this globalized and expansive empire is—and I mean this seriously—the greatest competition of idiocy and ignorance that has ever been.” Which sounds suspiciously like what we were thinking. Newt Gingrich picked up some support recently from the Republican version of Larry, Moe and Curly—none other than Herman Caine, Sarah Palin and Donald Trump—and with backers like this, who needs enemies? We’re just hoping that the whole thing carries on long enough for everybody to realize what a crew of shuckers and jivers this bunch consists of, but we’re not optimistic. I mean, they did elect George Bush (who is, we’ll admit, beginning to look like Albert Einstein in comparison). The traveling freak show moves on to Nevada and points west with bumbling Mitt Romney in the lead, mainly thanks to his recent carpet-bombing of Gingrich (92% negative ads) in Florida, where we always fall for that sort of thing. Meanwhile, the evangelicals and their right-wing cronies are all adither because none of “their” guys are moving forward. It’s hard for a poor old Democrat to know who to root for.
Non-Heroes
Okay, we’ve just about had it with “heroes.” Ever since 9/11, we’ve had heroes coming out our ears. Everybody in the world who wears a uniform of any kind, perhaps excluding the mobile ice-cream man, has now achieved hero status. If you joined the army because you think it’s the best job you can find, don’t worry—you’re a hero. If you became a cop because you like to slap people around, hey, no problem, you’re a hero, too. Coast guard guy patrolling the waters—hero. Boy scout who helps oldsters across the street—hero, also. It’s too much.
Do you remember when we were kids and read Hero Comics? All the heroes in there ran into burning buildings at risk to their lives and hauled out terrified infants. Or raced up to the scenes of highway accidents, broke open the doors or windows of scrunched automobiles and dragged out the passengers before the car blew up. Or jumped into the briny deep where grandma was going down for the third time. Real heroes who put their lives on the line to save somebody else. Now, all you do is march in the parade and smile.
We blame the media, which is often called the “liberal media” by bitter old farts who think “liberal” is everything left of what they believe in. The media, which includes reactionary outfits like the Fox Network, is most assuredly not liberal. For the most part, the media is too intimidated by their critics to express an opinion. Now almost all TV news shows have a representative of each side of a question in residence for any discussion, the better to absolve themselves of prejudice. And, to further enhance their standing in the eyes of the uniform-worshipping public, they have anointed all uniform-wearers “heroes.”
One day, when we were kids fishing in the Shawsheen River in South Lawrence, Paul Brooks fell in and I fished him out before he drowned. Was I a hero? Of course not. I was just the guy who didn’t want to go and tell Paul Brooks’ mother he was dead. A few years ago, on the way home from the movies in Ocala with Siobhan and Karen Brown, a car went spinning into telephone pole and then a fence right in front of us. Karen and I jumped out of the car while Siobhan called 9-1-1. I pried open one of the back doors to free a passenger who had been knocked into the back seat. Then, I got a front door open opposite the driver, who was dead, his feet still near the floorboards on the driver’s side, the rest of him lying on his back across the front seat, eyes wide open. Were we heroes? Never even considered it. We were just the poor unfortunates who happened to be passing by at that moment who did what anyone would do. So enough about heroes, already. Let’s save it for the real ones.
Racing Report
Cosmic Crown is running tomorrow in the 6th race at Gulfstream, morning line odds are 6-1. Which is less than last time, when she finished a nice second. The favorite has more impressive numbers but our girl is training great and has a chance. You can get the results on the Equibase website sometime after 3:30.
That’s all, folks….
3PM: Just to be a wise ass, Donald Trump just endorsed Romney. He'll do anything to mess me up.
