A Floridian’s apology for thinking it’s ‘cold’

I’m sorry our cold isn’t really cold, but the fact is, I’m still cold, and I’m not sorry about that. This is the lament of a Floridian every winter. How we poor, wretched, warmth-deprived beings have to fear how our commentary on the temperature will be taken the wrong way if mentioned in the wrong company. Know what I’m talking about? Happened to mention to a visitor from up north how you feel about our weather — even casually. “How am I doing? Well, it’s cold enough outside to freeze the freckles right off my body!” I will say. You know pretty quickly you’ve made a mistake by the indignation on the person’s face. It is as if Mount Vesuvius is about to uncork. That you are about to be beaten to a pulp for something you have said that is so insulting, so degrading and so blatantly ignorant that it could freeze the freckles right off your body. “Cold?!?” comes the reply, and it’s icy. “You call this ‘cold?!?’ It’s 134 degrees BELOW zero back at my home in Boston. It’s so cold, the ice got frostbite.” Ouch! And then, shivering Floridian that you are, you have to apologize and blush and feel awkward and say things like, “Well, shucks, that is cold! I just meant for us, we bronze-skinned Southern natives who don’t own any clothes that don’t incorporate flip-flops and shorts. We just find it a little … you know … chilly.” By that point we have […]

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A little advice on turning 40

As my younger brother prepares to turn 40, I thought I would take a moment to hand down some sage advice that I have acquired after two years in the “Enchanted Land of Four Decades:” ? If you’re going to have a mid-life crisis, make it a cheap one. I’ve been fortunate because my indecisiveness means I’ve never settled on the ideal mid-life crisis for me. And I will probably draw it out until I’m 62, when it will seem silly, absurd and just too time-consuming. But if you’re going to choose one, don’t go the expensive route. You know, crashing Ferraris or anything like that. Just take up drinking milk straight from the carton or diagnosing other people’s illnesses. Much cheaper that way. ? If people ask your age, don’t get upset. Just politely reply that “it’s none of their (insert curse here) business” and to get away from you because you’re about to have an unmedicated episode. That should solve it pretty quickly. ? Remember that 40 is only half way to 80. And consequently, 80 is only half way to 160. And if you calculate the square root of 160, it will require going and finding your calculator. By the time you find a calculator, you will have forgotten what you were thinking about in the first place. ? Remember that turning 40 is not the hard part. No, that’s actually quite easy. The ticking clock does all the work. The hard part is actually BEING 40. […]

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Some brotherly advice on turning 40

As my younger brother prepares to turn 40, I thought I would take a moment to hand down some sage advice that I have acquired after two years in the “Enchanted Land of Four Decades:” • If you’re going to have a mid-life crisis, make it a cheap one. I’ve been fortunate because my indecisiveness means I’ve never settled on the ideal mid-life crisis for me. And I will probably draw it out until I’m 62, when it will seem silly, absurd and just too time-consuming. But if you’re going to choose one, don’t go the expensive route. You know, crashing Ferraris or anything like that. Just take up drinking milk straight from the carton or diagnosing other people’s illnesses. Much cheaper that way. • If people ask your age, don’t get upset. Just politely reply that “it’s none of their (insert curse here) business” and to get away from you because you’re about to have an un-medicated episode. That should solve it pretty quickly. • Remember that 40 is only half way to 80. And consequently, 80 is only half way to 160. And if you calculate the square root of 160, it will require going and finding your calculator. By the time you find a calculator, you will have forgotten what you were thinking about in the first place.

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The board game switcheroo

My daughter and I will have to come to terms with something pretty soon. For her, she will have to understand that for much of her life I’ve been mostly letting her win at games, or at least giving her a fair chance. Parents do that, right? Don’t want to discourage their children, so they let off the gas. Give them a shot. Feign exasperation as they’re completely dismantled by their little one. It happens. But me, I will have to come to terms with the fact that she’s 9 years old now and none of that matters anymore. Those days are gone. Letting off the gas is stupid because it makes me look stupid. She can beat me out right. I learned that the other day playing Monopoly. When I didn’t have to feign anything and was completely dismantled by a not so little one. At one point she had a stack of $100 bills that must have been a foot tall. I had $32, mostly in $1 bills. I don’t know if it’s her getting smarter, me getting dumber, or just the natural order of things. That I should start asking her to cut up my chicken and drive my friends and me to the movies. Boy, some of that could be great. But for now it’s disorienting. To have lost fair and square in Monopoly! She had a hotel on Pennsylvania Avenue when I went out. A HOTEL on Pennsylvania! And she owned all the railroads. On […]

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The official St. Augustine chalupa rowing team

“Do you want to row a chalupa?” I was asked. A strange question. Not one you get every day. And not one easy to take while keeping a straight face. “A chalupa?” I thought to myself. “The Mexican dish? Like a taco! How do you row a taco?!?” No, no, no. Not a taco. That would be good, wouldn’t it? But this is a chalupa — a 16th-century, 37-foot Spanish longboat. Early settlers used them for all manner of purposes as they navigated local waters, offloaded supplies from larger ships and explored Florida’s uncharted coastline, probably looking for taco shops. I’ve been informed there were no engines in the 16th century. Men rowed these boats with their calloused hands and strong, bulging arms. The St. Augustine Maritime Heritage Foundation, with the help of the Lighthouse Archeological Maritime Program, has been building a chalupa at the Fountain of Youth Archaeological Park for a while now. It’s to commemorate St. Augustine’s 450th anniversary, and they plan to float it soon. “We need people to row it — this ‘nontaco’ chalupa,” I was told (added emphasis was placed on the “nontaco.”) “You want to join this historic team?” A million questions raced through my mind. I set them all free. “Do you need to know your starboard from your port?” I asked. “Because I always thought ‘starboard’ was up — you know, where the stars are — and that ‘port’ was where you parked your boat. I’m told this is incorrect and could […]

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