Tag: florida

Behold The National Rifle Association’s Worm in the Florida Apple

https://www.msnbc.com/stephanie-ruhle/watch/new-yorker-nra-lobbyist-in-fl-has-unprecedented-power-and-influence-1168600643717

Watch the entire video link from MSNBC, and see why I am fuming.

I live near Tallahassee, Florida, and have personally attended hearings on gun laws at the Capitol. On my first visit the bill being considered in our House of Representatives was to allow open carry in our state. The opening process was mundane–lots of parliamentary procedures and much palavering.

Then one by one people from both sides of the argument were called upon to explain in front of a panel of legislators why they either were for or against the right of Floridians to openly carry firearms. One older woman wearing a red hunting jacket and sporting a grey pageboy style haircut sat right up front, not quite part of the panel, but not a part of the regular gallery like myself. It was Marion Hammer.

I heard during this hearing that Marion, who is NOT a duly elected official in the state of Florida, had helped craft this open carry bill. Every time there was a proposed change to the bill or a question about what was included this woman was called forward to consult with our ELECTED lawmakers. She holds an immense amount of power, but again, IS NOT AN ELECTED OFFICIAL.

There is something rotten about a system that gives one person the power Ms. Hammer wields. Didn’t Americans launch a revolution based on our right to be represented by duly elected officials? Right now her favor or lack of it can make or break a politician in this state. She needs to go.

A Long Walk

On Wednesday, February 21, I took a long walk up Apalachee Parkway in Tallahassee. It wasn’t for exercise; although, my heart rate certainly sped up as I strode across a bridge on my way to the historic capitol building.

Students representing Marjory Stoneman Douglas high school in Parkland, Florida, the site of our nation’s most recent school shooting, traveled more than six hours to the state capitol this week. Some of the survivors of the shooting met with state legislators in small groups on Tuesday, petitioning their representatives in Florida’s House of Representatives to take up a proposed ban on semi-automatic weapons.

The representatives ignored the students’ pleas, but hey, they did vote to ban pornography, so there’s that. I hope you can read the anger in that sentence. That action, that slap in the face the legislators handed these young people, spurred me to drive into Tallahassee on Wednesday to support their cause as they marched to the capitol. I wasn’t the only one.

There were no available parking places near the capitol grounds.After driving around for about 45 minutes in search of a parking spot, I finally found a shaded place in the Chili’s parking lot half a mile away. As I locked my car I crossed my fingers that the car wouldn’t be towed during my trek. I had some place special to be, and if I got towed, so be it.

The crowd grew as I got closer. People were pouring in from every direction. Some were gawkers, but most were there to offer support. We were all inspired. These teenagers spoke passionately, articulately, and with a maturity that puts a certain current president to shame. They are fired up and angry. Many will soon be able to vote. And they won’t forget the snubs of their elected officials.

Peace, for our kids’ sake, people.

Anyone Know a Good Blacksmith?

When I took my new-to-me CanAm Spyder out for a test run yesterday I never expected I’d throw a shoe. Isn’t that an event reserved for horses?

And yet as I pulled into a parking lot in Mariana, Florida, in search of a place to have lunch I felt an odd sensation on the bottom of my left foot. The entire sole of my boot had detached and slipped off onto the asphalt.

Fortunately there’s a layer of leather between my foot and the sole; otherwise, I’d have been in a barefoot pickle! I guess I could’ve bought a pair of tennis shoes or cheap work boots at the local Beall’s department store, but I’d have had to ride the mile or so back in that direction and then gone limping inside to shop. Maybe it’s time for new boots. Or a good glue–has anyone ever tried that on motorcycle boots?

I put about 150 miles on the bike today. The ride is a bit different from that of a two-wheel motorcycle. One doesn’t counter steer on the Spyder, and there’s no front brake handle. I know eventually I’ll stop reaching for the handle and feeling ridiculous when I grasp nothing but air, but it may take awhile.

The bike “walks” a bit from side as opposed to a two-wheeler, and it catches wind in ways I’m not accustomed to, but it never feels unstable. Plus, not having to put my feet down upon stopping is priceless.

Additionally, one doesn’t lean into turns on the three-wheel Spyder. I was never a knee dragger, but I caught myself in leaning mode a couple of times today, and the bike is having none of that nonsense. I kept expecting it to rap my knuckles and admonish me to “sit up straight, for pity’s sake.”

I am in love with the reverse gear, the cruise control, and the radio. My windshield is adjustable and the bike has heated handgrips, as well! Those are all accoutrements I’ve never had on a bike before.

After my ride my shoulders and thighs were pretty tight and sore. Those are sure signs I need to relax a bit more. And for those of you who don’t ride motorcycles, 150 miles on a bike can feel like 350 if you’re tense.

Experienced Spyder owners tell me it’ll take about 500 miles to really appreciate everything the bike can do, so I’m off to a great start. If only I had boots, I’d ride again today.

Peace, people.

My New Toy

Studly Doright took Friday afternoon off of work and we drove to Crestview where I purchased this beauty:

It’s a 2010 Can Am Spyder RT and it’s stunning. Both Studly and I took our riding gear along. I’d intended to ride the bike home, but after Studly took it for a test ride he suggested that I drive the pickup home while he familiarized himself with the quirks of the Spyder.

The three wheel configuration requires a completely different style of riding than a standard motorcycle, and my guy didn’t want me getting used to it on a busy interstate. I didn’t grumble much and we took separate paths home.

Once we were both back at Doright Manor Studly gave me a tutorial and I put the Spyder through its paces on the narrow, twisty roads running through our neighborhood. It’s a blast, and while I still have a great deal to learn, I think the bike is a good fit for me.

Now, though, since the Spyder is definitely a “want” and not a “need” I have to get rid of four extra items on this 17th day of February, in order to meet the requirements of the Minimalist Challenge. Might be time to clean out the holiday closet. First I’m going for a ride!

Peace, people!

Jury Duty Today

I received the jury summons several weeks ago. To my credit, upon reading the summons I didn’t stomp my feet or throw myself on the floor in a tantrum; although, I did grab my calendar to see if I was scheduled for anything that might be used to excuse me from serving. Not a flipping thing. Sigh.

So off I go this morning to do my civic duty in Gadsden County, Florida. Last time I served I ended up as the foreman on a hit and run case in Champaign, Illinois. I’m hoping to blend more quietly into the background this time; although, I did keep the panel from getting bogged down in the swamp of “what ifs.”

And I’m pretty sure I did a better job of delivering the jury’s decision than Yoda:

Peace, people!

Yesterday

Yesterday as I exited the Publix grocery store on Ocala Street in Tallahassee I saw a little boy, maybe a seven-year-old, playing on the sidewalk directly in front of the store. I spoke to him, something innocuous like, “Hey pal,” but he didn’t respond.

I looked around, but didn’t see any adults nearby. He seemed to be keeping close to the store, so I went on to my car. No sooner had I packed my groceries into my car than I saw a little blur dash behind me. It was the little boy running hell bent for leather through the busy parking lot towards an even busier street. This 61-year-old, out of shape grandmother took off after him.

Just as he reached the intersection a car turned into the Publix parking lot and with inches to spare missed hitting him. Without hesitating the child swerved back into the parking lot and just stopped, standing stock still. The car’s driver, a young college student, pulled over and the student’s mom got out and took the child’s hand.

I had begun calling 9-1-1, but so had she. Now that I was close to him I realized he most likely was autistic. Leaving the child in her capable hands I walked back to the store and found a manager and a clerk looking out into the parking lot. Figuring they might be looking for the little guy I asked and sure enough they’d been approached by an anxious mom who’d lost her kid while shopping. So I took them out to where the woman still held the child by the hand.

We watched as mom and child were reunited and the woman who had held his hand while I ran up to the store kind of fell apart for a minute. So did I.

“I thought my son was going to hit him,” she cried on my shoulder.

“Thank God for young reflexes,” I said, patting her on the back while shaking her son’s hand.

I honestly thought I was going to see this little guy go under the wheels of a car. Once back into my own vehicle I sat shaking before I could even start it up. His angels were working overtime yesterday.

And now, the Beatles. How’s that for a segue?

https://g.co/kgs/ckwySv

Looking for a Whatsit

Yesterday I posted about the Happy Painter, aka Janie Roberts, and her shop out at The House of Plywood in Tallahassee’s Railroad Square Art Park. I was specifically looking for a replacement for this piece:

This was the crowning glory of a decorative candle holder my eldest sister-in-law, Lyn, had given me four years ago as a housewarming gift. It fit atop this piece,

and enjoyed a place of prominence on my dining room table. Upon presenting me with the gift Lyn had made just for me, she advised me to avoid picking it up by the top. For three and a half years I was so careful to follow her advice, but one day I moved it without thinking and you see the results above.

I’d tried to describe to Janie at The Happy Painter just what it was I was looking for–a sconce, a globe, a whatsit, but until I took the piece in she wasn’t sure exactly what I meant. The minute she saw it she sent me to another vendor, Chip, who has a wonderful lamp shop in Railroad Square. I’ll do a whole piece on Chip’s shop one of these days. I’m not even sure of the name of the place, but he found me a possible replacement for a reasonable price.

Now I just have to break out the old glass and affix this new whatsit to the wrought iron piece. I’ll get Studly Doright to help me with that. There’ll likely be less bloodshed that way.

So what is the proper name for this? Is it a sconce? A globe? A whatsit?

Happy Painter Art and Furniture Studio

On Friday I had two appointments in Tallahassee and a big stretch of time between the two. Rather than return to Doright Manor after appointment number one I had lunch at a cafe and then treated myself to a Lemon Cooler cookie from the Cake Shop. Yum! Even then I still had over two hours to kill before appointment number two, so I drove out to Railroad Square Art Park.

Railroad Square is a fun place with all sorts of shops ranging from the relatively bland (a construction company) to the bohemian (an herbalist), and there’s even a great brewery called “Proof.”

Lately I’ve been on a mission to find a couple of specific items, so I went to the fabulously named House of Plywood.

The House of Plywood is an artisans’ craft mall with unique shops lining the breezeway. I’d wandered in before, but today I got no farther than artist Janie Lou Roberts’s shop.

Janie remembered me and what I was in search of from my previous visit several weeks before! For someone like me who can scarcely remember what my husband looks like on a day to day basis (I make him wear a name tag to cut down on the awkwardness), her recall was astounding, and a bit flattering. (Note to self: Really TRY to remember what Studly Doright looks like.)

Janie and I discussed the object I was looking for (I’ll post about this object tomorrow) and she made some more suggestions as to where I might find one. Then I took time to look around Janie’s shop–“The Happy Painter and Furniture Studio.”

Janie paints happy paintings. I didn’t take pictures because I wasn’t thinking. That’s not uncommon in my life. But Janie’s paintings are vivid and engaging. She painted one of a pair of sunflowers that made me think of a sunshiny, floral American Gothic. I could find it on her page, but this is her profile picture from Janie’s Facebook page:

Here another of Janie from Facebook:

In addition to happy paintings, Janie sells books, small pieces of furniture, and all sorts of little accessories. Even better, she’s a genuinely nice person, and if she doesn’t have what you’re looking for, she’ll point you in the right direction.

(I receive no compensation for this post. I just want people to check out Janie and her business.)

Peace, people!

Hanging Out In Quincy, FL

Doright Manor, where I reside with my husband, Studly Doright, is in a rural housing development about eight miles west of Tallahassee, Florida. We have a Havana, FL, address, but we’re geographically closer to the town of Quincy.

Typically when I shop I head to Tallahassee, with Havana being my second choice, but on Wednesday I needed something small (eye liner) and decided to see if I could find it in Quincy at the CVS. Sure enough they had what I wanted and much too soon I was driving home.

Quincy is the county seat, so I drove around the courthouse square to see if there was anything of interest. I noticed a business I hadn’t seen on any of my previous visits. Could it be an antique/junk shop? It was! Be still my heart!

My photos aren’t great, but the shop is. It’s called The Junktion and it’s been open for a couple of months. The delightful owner, (whose name I’ve forgotten thanks to my advanced age) is still sorting through things and she has some treasures.

I couldn’t quite keep myself out of the photo above. It is always all about me anyway.

And the owner is in this one above. She is adorable and has big plans for her shop. The photos, as I said, aren’t great, but the shop is.

Just next door to The Junktion is the Gadsden Arts Center. I wasn’t in any hurry to go home, so I popped in there for bit.

I’d never taken the time to properly stroll through the galleries of the arts center, having in the past merely popped in for directions or to ask a question, but now after spending some time there I realize that the Gadsden Arts Center is a real gem. In addition to the galleries, the center is adding a gift shop, and they offer classes and studio time. I’m not much of an artist, but it would be fun to take a class.

http://gadsdenarts.org/exhibitions.aspx

I definitely need to spend more time in Quincy.

Peace, people.

Do I Look Like a Twinkle to You?

I’ve been called by a variety of names over the course of my 61 years on earth: Leslie, Sis, Mommy, Mom, Nana, Boobsie (don’t ask), and a few less flattering ones I’m not going to mention. But a couple of days ago I was offered a new moniker.

On Thursday afternoon I had volunteered to transport a meal to a group of young single moms in Tallahassee. The coordinator paired me with someone named Robin who would prepare a meal, and my task was to meet up with Robin and then deliver the meal to the meeting in a timely fashion.

In spite of numerous texts and emails between Robin and me, we managed to get our wires crossed and ended up at two different locations. I was at one truck stop and Robin was at another just down the road. Before we resolved the issue I was standing outside the Flying J restaurant looking for someone who might be Robin. Since we’d never met I scrutinized everyone.

A car pulled up beside me and a middle-aged man rolled down his window. I thought, “Hmmm, maybe Robin is a man.” I have a male cousin named Robin, so it was a possibility.

Before I could say anything the man asked, “Say, are you Twinkle?”

Briefly taken aback, I retorted, “Hell no. Do I look like a Twinkle to you?”

He quickly rolled up his window and sped away. I got the giggles. I believe he thought I was a prostitute! Me! In my mom jeans and Star Wars t-shirt. Then it occurred to me that the “Twinkle” he was looking for was likely to be a trans prostitute. Guess I fooled him all around. Studly doesn’t call me “Boobsie” for nothing!