There are a lot of perks inherent in living in north-central Florida. The weather is good, the countryside is pretty and there is always a Moon Pie store close by. If you do live here, though, it will not take you long to realize that you live smack-dab in the middle of Goober Central, an extensive part of Paradise that has been reserved exclusively for religious fanatics of the first order. Or so they think. Of course, these people don’t consider themselves fanatics. They think they are just like “everyone else,” which, to their way of thinking, means church-going Christians. Now, those pitiful few of us who are not so inclined are perfectly content to let these people lead their misguided lives in peace and quiet, worshipping as they see fit, handing over significant parts of their miserable incomes to Cadillac-driving ministers while they chow down on hominy and grits. The trouble IS they are not willing to do the same for us. Take the matter of the Ten Commandments, for instance.
If there’s anything Christians hold dear it’s their beloved Ten Commandments, which were delivered directly from God to Moses, who has the Fedex receipt to prove it. These people don’t necessarily observe the Ten Commandments all that much but they sure do like to look at them sitting there, etched into stone monuments. They have one of these stone monuments in nearby Starke, a well-named town just down the road in redneck Bradford County. It sits out there in front of the courthouse for all good Christians to purr and cluck over. Sticking in the Christian craw, however, is the other monument sitting out there with it. The one the atheists put up when the local judiciary decided public property is not the exclusive sandbox of Christians. The God folks don’t especially like it, but hey, c’est la vie.
Anyway, now, right next door in little Williston, Florida, we have an issue. Willistonites, being as greedy as any other self-respecting Christian community, would like to have their cake and eat it too, please. They also have their Ten Commandments monument but they are nonplussed over the possibility it may be joined by an atheist monolith. Didn’t their mothers speak to them as tiny tots about sharing? Apparently not. A fellow named Ray Sparrow, who is the head honcho of Williston Atheists, has requested a spot on the courthouse lawn of Levy County eleven miles down the road in Bronson. The Levy County Commission told him his application and proposed monument “didn’t comply with certain guidelines,” but we think they’re just stalling. Williston Atheists doesn’t plan to let the matter drop. And not everybody in town has a problem with the nonbelievers putting up their Atheist Bench. Pat Trageser, 66, a long-time Bronson resident says, “It’s their choice to be Godless. I’ll sit on their bench and pray for them.”
Another local, Sam Norris, 73, said he doesn’t think either monument should be there. He doesn’t especially like the idea of an Atheist Bench but he thinks the Ten Commandment monument is “profane, because it is polarizing people. The use of it is being perverted.” You go, Sam. As usual, the issue is headed for court. God knows, there is plenty of extra government money available these days to play around with, who cares about paying teachers or filling potholes?
Meanwhile, the Christians are busy on other fronts. You probably don’t know this, but 46% of Americans believe that humans were “created by God” just 6000 years ago, making all that scientific evidence about evolution just plain wrong! The number of Republicans who believe in Creationism and pooh-pooh evolution has increased since 2009 from 47% to 56% (stats from Ann McFeatters, writing for McClatchy-Tribune News Service). The statistics are higher in Kansas, where EVERY SINGLE PERSON believes in Creationism. Anyway, they want equal time in classes with people teaching evolution. Oh, and don’t let us hear anything about that silly Global Warming stuff, either. Even though 97% of climate experts assure us that it’s true, 37% of the American public continue to keep their noggins firmly ensconced in the sand. Guess how many of them are Christians. Despite what we might have suspected, the Flat Earth Society is not dead yet. God and his pals are Keeping Hope Alive.
Internet Hero Eats
We finally made our way to Lynn’s Bistro and it is, as billed, the best French restaurant on the Eastside. Excellent prix fixe (or, in our case, prix nada). I had a baked goat cheese salad, then duck breast in a cherry reduction sauce, Sonoma Cutter chardonnay and a glass of Sauterne to accompany the bread pudding dessert. Natalie had swordfish and a salad. We both enjoyed it tremendously. The place is great because it is just a modest space near the center of whatever action downtown Kirkland claims to have and they have a small but excellent menu. The couple which run the restaurant also serve as cooks. Many thanks for this memorable meal. when I come back to Florida, I’ll find Fairfield’s finest foodery and we will fully and festively feast, using my funds.
Marty & Natalie
Um, yeah, Marty….about Fairfield’s finest foodery….
The Day Of Wine And Roses (Part II)
It’s Valentine’s Day, so back to Cedar Key go Bill and Siobhan for their annual dinner at the Island Hotel. Used to be, you could just show up at the place, now you can’t even make reservations two days beforehand. Must be all the free publicity in The Flying Pie. We went anyway and they worked us in. Surprisingly—to me, anyway—the majority of the tables were set for four or more people rather than for couples. What kind of Valentine’s dinner is that? Where’s the romance? Where’s the cootchie-coo? This is an opportunity for intimate conversation, for questions to ask and answer that might not be broached in less loving climes. Let’s take advantage of the setting, this is not your average meal celebrating Lincoln’s birthday or the discovery of Xenon. Do ALL people over fifty HAVE to go to dinner with other couples? It’s abysmal.
Of course, there was that time in the mid eighties when even Bill went to dinner with another couple. Not MY idea, of course. Entering the Gainesville Hilton restaurant on Valentine’s Day with the lovely and talented Betsy Harper, who did I run into but my old friend Stuart Bentler and his charming wife, Leslie. Now, Betsy had a pretty nice figure and didn’t try too hard to hide it. What the hell, it was Valentine’s Day, right? Anyway, she was wearing a somewhat diaphanous dress, something guaranteed to get Stuart’s attention. He suggested we sit together. Leslie wisely suggested otherwise. As so often happened with Stuart Bentler, however, opposition turned out to be fruitless and we all wound up sitting at a table for four for a pleasant but not very Valentiney repast. That was the first and last time my Valentine’s Day party exceeded two. It may have been worth it, though. Twenty years later, Stuart still brought up the subject of Betsy’s “see-through” dress.
Despite the crush of lovers at the restaurant, Cedar Key remains the quiet little community it always has been. At this time of year, many of the hotels and condos are occupied by visitors from the North, seeking to escape the nightmare that is this year’s winter. We always get to meet them when it’s time to get our picture taken over by the water. First golf cart by gets to be Official Photographer. This year’s couple, Norm and Frieda, was from Pittsburgh, loving the place and staying for six weeks. Now, I like Cedar Key as much as the next person and I am very aware of the difficult circumstances everywhere north of here, but whoosh, SIX WEEKS on a tiny island would make me break out with hives or apoplectic disconsolation, at least. I know, because I went to a tiny island once with second wife Harolyn. It was called Yelapa, near Puerto Vallarta, in Mexico.
Now, Yelapa is the kind of place the travel merchants love to promote. Come on down, bring your sweetie! You can ride horses along the banks of our fabuloso river, sleep in thatched huts, luxuriate in the sun and sand! And it was true—Yelapa had all these fine enhancements. You just might want to give a little thought to potential activities during the non-romantic hours, of which there will be many if you are a normal human being. Oh, and also—those nice, primitive thatched huts? How do you think you get water in there? That’s right, you use the manual labor approach. You don’t even want to know about bathroom issues. The next morning, I was the first one out on the sand with my binoculars, hoping to espy the boat on its way in to provide deliverance. Alright, I admit it, I have been spoiled by the niceties of a busier society, so sue me. But it’s like Clint Eastwood said—a man has to know his limitations.
For me, there are one-day towns, two-day towns, etc. If it is not Mardi Gras season, New Orleans, for instance, is a two-day town. New York and L.A. are seven-day towns, at least. Cleveland is a one-day town. And Cedar Key, in every way, is its equal.
Valentine’s Day Greetings From Cedar Key!
The Dress
It’s hard to get a reading on our outlier group of readers, but by virtue of emails received I perceive a slight male majority. Of the people we notify of publication each Thursday, however, and the characters who choose to be “members,” 60% or so are card-carrying subscribers of the distaff persuasion. So when we have incidents such as the one where Siobhan gets her hair cut after 50 years, these women are eager to see the results. Readership skyrockets. Supportive ladies send emails praising the result, even if they are lying. Now, last week we published a perfectly innocent old photograph of Siobhan wearing a very nice dress, circa 1987. The ladies screamed. “That picture is too SMALL!” and “We can’t see any details!” and “Where did she get it?” Geez, Louise. Who knew anybody cared?
Okay, then. I bought the dress that year at The Falls, a Miami area outside mall near beautiful Kendall. At the time, there was a retailer there, a French women, who sold only dresses made in Paris. This creation, all made of lace and clouds, cost a sprightly $500, more than I had ever paid for a dress before. Hell, even Harolyn’s wedding dress from goddam Bonwit-Teller didn’t cost that much. Everything in the woman’s store was monstrously expensive. I went back a year later and she was gone. Less than shocking. Anyway, just for those who asked, below is a larger photo, taken a couple of days ago. The dress still fits perfectly. And no, you cannot borrow it.
Cosmic Update.
Because you asked, Cosmic Flash made it through his first Gulfstream work in one piece. He goes out again Saturday. If things continue to amble along perfectly, we might be racing by the end of March. Like the coaches always say, we’re taking it one day at a time. Hey, when you’re our age you’re never sure you’re getting any more than that.
That’s all, folks….
