Category: Florida

Tallahassee Auto Museum

Last Sunday Studly Doright and I took his mom, Saint Helen, to the Tallahassee Automobile Museum. Even though Studly and I have been in Tallahassee a little over three years, this was our first visit to the museum that sits just off Interstate 10 east of Tallahassee.

Elvis Mobile
Weird horse statue greets visitors

Here are just a few of the automobiles on display. The array was dizzying. 

Amphibious car–LBJ had one and loved to prank guests to his Texas ranch by driving into his lake.
Studebaker Avanti: The front looks like the rear.
Disturbing!
DeLorean
Studly and Saint Helen

Batman had his own section.


There were motorcycles in abundance:



Boats


Boat motors:


Tricycles and pedal cars:




Steinway Pianos:






Cash registers:


A vampire hunting kit (I really think I need one):


And lots of other goodies:


Hearse believed to be used to convey Lincoln’s body.

The museum, with its eclectic array of memorabilia, provided us with a couple of hours of entertainment. I think I’m still suffering from antique overload. 

Peace, people.

Casual Car Show

Once a month our local Sonic Drive-in hosts a car show. Studly Doright and I stopped by on our way to see the movie, Doctor Strange, in Tallahassee on Saturday evening. 

I walked around snapping pictures and talking to car owners. Which is your favorite? Can you guess mine?

Car 1
Car 2
Car 3
Car 4
Car 5
Car 6
Car 7
Car 8
Car 9
Car 10
Car 11
Car 12

And then there was this guy…

Dog 1

Sonic drive-ins and classic cars seem like the perfect match. The cheeseburger and tater tots were a bonus.

Peace, people!

Exploring Mule Days (So You Don’t Have To)

Calvary, Georgia, is a small town about 30 minutes from Doright Manor. Once a year they celebrate Mule Days with a parade and crafts show. A friend thought I might find the celebration amusing, so I set off on Saturday morning to explore.

I began to wonder if Mule Days was my kind of event as I neared the venue. There were confederate flags aplenty on either side of the highway, and an ample showing of Trump t-shirts and hats on scruffy looking rednecks. I’m not easily intimidated though, so I kept driving.

Once at the parking area, I realized that Mule Days draws folks from many miles away. I spotted cars with license plates from Alabama and Mississippi in addition to those from Georgia and Florida. 

The walk from the parking lot to the actual Mule Days location was long, unpaved, and arduous. I was immensely proud of myself for having worn tennis shoes rather than my flip flops. 

What I found as I made my way around the acres and acres property was a random mixture of Flea Market, garage sale, crafts, and food vendors.


I tried gator on a stick today. Honestly, it did taste just like chicken. 


There was live music. ‘Nuff said.

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I did find a small gem:


I’ll put chrysanthemums in this for my front courtyard area. 

Chances are I’ll never go to Mule Days again, but given the throngs of people in attendance I doubt they’ll miss me.

Peace, people!

Joe Biden at FAMU/VOTE BLUE 

Warning: This post is all over the place. It started out as a recounting of my experiences at a rally featuring Joe Biden and then it morphed into the lists of accomplishments of both major party candidates. So sue me.

Living in a high-profile state is a treat during presidential election years. In the past six months I’ve attended separate events where former President Bill Clinton, and Vice-presidential nominee, Tim Kaine, have spoken. Today I was privileged to be present at a rally featuring Vice-president Joe Biden and his wife, Dr. Jill Biden. 

Today’s event was held on the campus of Florida A&M University with dozens of local and state Democratic candidates in attendance. I’d been to FAMU before, and gambled that parking would be in the same place even though the venue had changed. It was a great gamble. I quickly made friends with a young woman who was headed to the rally, and we walked up the hill together.

After standing in an epically long line for nearly two hours we finally made it through the metal detectors as some of the local dignitaries finished speaking. I’d resigned myself to being in the back forty when a young man came and asked if my friend and I would like to move closer to the stage. Soon we were standing just a few yards from the the speakers. Better still, we had a shade tree. 

Congresswoman Gwen Graham was on hand to welcome the Bidens. Gwen is a strong voice for Florida in the U.S. House of Representatives. My hope is that she’ll be our governor some day.


By the time the Bidens arrived my feet were in agony. I hadn’t really planned on attending the rally today and had worn boots that, while darned adorable, weren’t all that comfortable. So I did what any sensible person would do–I took them off. Ahhhhh! 

The Bidens took the stage together. Jill spoke about meeting Joe when he was running for office and she was a college student. She’d attended a campaign rally and was impressed by his passion and integrity. So much so that she voted for him.

The Vice-president spoke then. He is personable and funny and invested in making this country a place where everyone has a place at the table. He spoke about the cuts Trump has proposed and the programs those cuts would affect: Social Security, funding for education, and health care chief among them. 


As Joe Biden began winding his speech to a close I decided to put my boots back on in preparation for walking down the hill. I asked a sturdy young man If I could lean on him and he gave me a huge grin. He probably thought I was a nut, but patiently stood there as I got my left boot on. 

When I put my right toe into its boot I got a Charlie horse (cramp) in my calf and almost said a bad word, but managed to restrain myself. I thanked the young man who held my hand through the whole thing. Age does have its privileges. 

The crowd was fired up and ready to vote as we headed in separate directions. My new friend had cut class to be at the rally and thought she might catch the end of it if she hurried. She promised to vote tomorrow.

Tomorrow. Election Day 2016.

I’m sixty years old. I cannot recall a more important or divisive election in my lifetime:

On the one hand we have Trump:

  • a blustering demagogue who has been in bankruptcy proceedings numerous times, even though he encourages people to think he’s a great businessman. 
  • someone with a history of litigation against those he’d rather sue than pay for services rendered.
  • a bully who encourages violence against those exercising their rights to free speech.
  • a misogynist who has bragged about groping women because as a celebrity he can do as he pleases. 
  • a man who has refused to release his tax returns and has shady ties to Russia. 
  • an anti-Semite.
  • a candidate who has mocked the disabled, stereotyped Latinos, Blacks, Muslims, and women. 
  • a man who has been endorsed by the KKK.

Then on the other, dare I say, sane hand, we have Hillary Rodham Clinton:

Cut and pasted from a Daily Kos article:


Oh, she’s also been endorsed by more newspapers, Conservative and Liberal, than any candidate in history.

Is she perfect? No, but she has faced numerous investigations by the FBI and a GOP led congress and neither entity has charged her with a single thing. 

Don’t sit around thinking your vote isn’t needed. It is. 

Peace, and common sense, people.

Rally Sign

Great things were happening in Tallahassee today. 

Tim Kaine came to rally Florida voters to vote early.


Tim is a great speaker and immensely likable. The crowd was huge, so I didn’t get very close. Thank goodness for zoom lenses!

The most moving part of the afternoon, though, was seeing Gabby Giffords and hearing her say she couldn’t wait to speak the words, “Madame President.” 

Speaking clearly is still a struggle for former representative Giffords, who was shot and nearly killed by a gunman at an event in her home state of Arizona in 2011. The woman is an inspiration and a tireless fighter for common sense gun regulations. 


Below, Giffords and her husband, astronaut Mark Kelly.


The energy at the rally was inspiring. Since it was held on the campus of Florida State University a great many of those in attendance were college students who were excited about casting their first votes ever.

Loved this young woman’s shirt.


Pre-rally college students discussed their plans to go vote after the rally.

The line went on and on. Everyone was pumped up. Fired up; ready to vote.

I stood in line with these three adorable students. They thought I was in my 40’s. 


I’ve already voted. I’m always overcome by emotion when I realize what a privilege it is to cast a vote in this country. Even if you are a Republican, even if we disagree, I hope you exercise your right to vote. And then we all need to be prepared to accept the results. 

This has been a divisive campaign. Harsh words have been exchanged–I’ve certainly not minced any syllables. But for my part, if Trump wins this election I will accept his presidency as the voice of a majority of the people. I would hope that he and his supporters will be as gracious if Hillary wins. 

Peace, people. Really.

Home Improvement

When we purchased our home over two years ago we knew eventually we’d want to do something about the front courtyard area. The previous owners, who’d built the home, paid a gardener to tend the two small plots on either side of the front walkway twice a month, but Studly and I weren’t crazy about taking on another bill. Actually I remember the conversation going something like:

Studly: We can’t afford both a gardener and a housekeeper.

Me: Cross off gardener. Check.

And that was the end of that story.

Except that we didn’t really think about the amount of yard work this courtyard area required. There was weeding and raking and digging and more weeding and since neither of us wanted to do any of that it just didn’t get done. Before too long Doright Manor’s entryway was overgrown and under utilized. 

I had the bright idea of having the area done in paving stones, but the estimate in the neighborhood of seven grand put a damper on that idea. Occasionally I’d go putter about trying to clean up all the unidentifiable growing things, but my efforts made it even uglier.

Finally Studly and I drew up a plan to do something simple and hopefully manageable with our courtyard. That was months ago, and we worked on it a little bit in the evenings and on weekends. 


We had to till everything up and cap off sprinklers.


Then we put down heavy duty matting and laid out some big stones before adding mulch.


We plan to add a decorative potting bench and container plants on this side.

Then on the opposite side we placed a little bench that I found at the French Country Flea Market on Friday. I fell in love with the butterfly shape. 


Now we need to personalize the courtyard with accents and plants for a more finished look. I’m not much of a decorator, so I know there will be a good deal of trial and error involved, but maybe this is something we can keep in good order without too much effort from a pair of non-gardeners. And I get to keep my housekeeper. 

Peace, people!

A Tale of Two Boobs

Fridays are mine to do with as I please, and today it pleased me to travel a bit east of Tallahassee to check out the French Country Flea Market at Sweet South Cottage and Farms. This is the fifth year for the Flea Market, but my first visit, so I was eager to see what it was all about.

First though I had to find Sweet South Cottage. Thank goodness for GPS! After stopping at a local truck stop to buy a Diet Dr. Pepper I input the address and was soon merging into traffic on Interstate 10.

Interstate traffic throughout Florida is an interesting exercise in avoiding tourists and elderly citizens who don’t realize that the posted 70 mph is merely a suggested speed at the lower end of the spectrum. Generally I set my cruise for 75 mph and am routinely passed by those who drive 80 to 90. My goal is always to create a little bubble around myself, so as not to impede the speedsters and not to rear end the putterers.

Today as I drove in my bubble towards my destination I wasn’t surprised to see a flurry of brake lights up ahead of me as faster drivers made all manner of evasive maneuvers to avoid hitting a slow moving motorist driving in the passing lane. Since I had ample notice I chose my line carefully and soon was passing the offending driver who wasn’t going over 55 mph. 

He happened to be an older white man with a huge Trump sign in the rear window of his white pickup truck, and he appeared oblivious to the lives he was putting in danger by driving so slowly on I-10.

“What a boob!” I growled, as I glared at him and sped away. Soon after the GPS instructed me to exit and within a few miles I had reached my destination. 

The parking lot was fairly empty when I arrived, and I was directed to a primo parking spot directly across from the ticket booth. I hoped to find a garden bench for sale at the event and surely the great parking spot was a good omen. 

Cute finds were everywhere.


I even found my bench, but forgot to snap a photo and it’s currently jammed into the back of my car. I’m sure it will be featured in a future post. 

So if you paid attention to the title of my piece you might be wondering about the second boob. Boob one was the too slow, Trump supporting driver on I-10. Boob two is just that–a boob, a breast, my right one to be exact. 

After buying my bench I went out to adjust the back seat of my little SUV to accommodate my purchase when literally out of the clear blue Florida sky a bee appeared, whereupon it dive bombed into my bra cup, and proceeded to sting my aforementioned right breast.

I’d love to say I handled the incident calmly, but I’d be lying. I said something awful as I reached inside my shirt to pull the underwire of my bra away from my chest hoping the little bugger would depart in a timely manner. He refused and I ended up squishing him. Yes, I know bees are becoming endangered, and yes, I know I am an awful human.

I was in pain, though, and still had to find some way to remove the stinger. Unfortunately I was out in the middle of a parking lot, so I located a port-a-potty where I successfully used a credit card edge to scrape out the offending appendage in what I now call “Operation Stinger Removal” or just OSR for short.

So, I ask you, was the bee bite on the boob a karmic response to my calling the old Trump supporter that name earlier in the day? If so, I’m certainly glad I didn’t call him an ass.

Exodus Angst

Studly Doright and I didn’t have to evacuate for Hurricane Matthew. Tallahassee is far enough west of the Atlantic that we might not even get any significant rainfall from the storm. However, we are experiencing an unpleasant influx of folks running from the hurricane, and I have strong feelings about that. 

I stopped at the truck stop nearest our home this morning where the queue for the gas pumps was ridiculous! I waited an unthinkable five minutes before having to pay $2.29 a gallon for my gas. Can you imagine? It was outrageous!

Once inside I had to stand in line behind ten people just to get to the Cinnabon counter, and by the time I was served, my favorite Cinnaminis had been decimated. I cry “Foul!” Plus, several of those in line didn’t even look or sound like Floridians. I suppose some of them might be good people, but I swear I heard New York accents. 

Dadgum refugees in their Bermuda shorts and sundresses. Should have brought their own snacks instead of taking my valuable resources. And they’re clogging up MY roads and my restaurants and my movie theatres. Stupid east coast migrants. Don’t they know we barely have enough to survive without the burden of caring for them? Maybe the Florida panhandle should secede from the rest of the state. Build a wall. Make Tallahassee great again. 

Snapshot #41

Let’s call this one, “Live Music on a Friday Night with the Jerry Thigpen Trio,” or maybe just, “Good Times.”

Here’s a little bit of one  of their tunes:

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Best Laid Plans

Studly Doright never sets an alarm. He’s been getting up at the same early hour for the past 40 odd years now unless he’s sick or on vacation. So when I realized he was still in bed at 6:42 this Friday morning I immediately checked to see if he was still breathing.  

Having confirmed that was still among the living I shook him vigorously. “Hey! You’re still in bed.” 

“Mmphm,” he replied.

“You are late for work,” I persisted.

“Not going in today,” he mumbled. 

“Oh.”

“I’m taking you to the beach for your birthday.”

Well, alrighty then!”

So here I am, sitting outside a hotel in Destin, FL. There’s not a beach within a mile.

“I swear,” Studly swears. “I booked us a room at the beach.”

There might be a reason I always book the hotels. Sigh.