Tag: Tallahassee

Wayward Memory

It’s 6:54 a.m. and 52° here in Tallahassee, FL.

I’m sitting in my car in the parking lot of Trousdale aquatics center waiting for my water aerobics class to begin and giving myself a pep talk that goes something like “You’re going to freeze to death. Enjoy!”

Oh, and today’s my birthday.

A steady stream of young women, high school age by the look of them, leave the pool area, heading to their cars so they can make it to first period classes on time.

I count a shiny new Jeep and a Lexus among their rides. A far cry from the ‘57 army green Ford Galaxie I drove in high school.

That Galaxie was built like a tank. Ugly as sin, it could withstand just about anything man or beast could throw at it. And one morning, when I was a high schooler myself, racing from band practice at the junior high to the high school for my next class, my friend, Ray’s car didn’t stop quickly enough on the newly graveled street and, bam! He plowed into my Galaxie and a geyser of steam erupted from beneath his hood.

That Galaxie, though, didn’t even flinch.

I hope those high school girls make it safely to their destinations. There wasn’t a single ‘57 Ford Galaxie in the mix. Tsk. Tsk.

Peace, people!

Not Funny

Studly Doright and I don’t go out much other than to dinner on the weekend. Occasionally his golf course offers some entertainment on Friday or Saturday night and if he isn’t too worn out from his work week we’ll head out there for a good time because he knows I crave live music. I only suggest stuff that I think we both will enjoy.

So, when I saw that comedian Rob Schneider was coming to Tallahassee for a one-night comedy show, I thought that could be fun. Studly agreed and I purchased tickets for Saturday night’s show.

Now I have seen Schneider in the Duece Bigelow movies, and Adam Sandler often has a role for Rob. He’s funny in those parts—and while no one’s ever going to consider him for an Oscar, he makes Studly laugh. And Studly’s laugh is THE best. I was really looking forward to hearing that laugh.

Unfortunately, Mr. Schneider used the stage as a pulpit to rage against liberals. I’m a big girl. I can laugh at good-natured ribbing about politics. I know the Democrats aren’t perfect and there’s a lot of humor to be had making fun of us. But Schneider just never let up. Or maybe he finally did—we left about 45 minutes in.

He’s an anti-vaxxer. He has a problem with masks. Okay, so did a lot of people. I get it. He voted for Trump because, something to the effect of, I know the guy, oh and his opponent was a murderer…

It was at that point Studly asked if I wanted to leave. “Not yet,” I said. “I paid good money for these seats.”

So we stayed, watching as others began “going to the restroom and never returning.” When Schneider announced that we can’t say “woman” in America anymore and the WOMAN beside me clapped and cheered and said something nasty about liberals, I turned to Studly and said, “Now we can go.”

Schneider’s running joke for the evening was “I don’t want to get “Chris Rocked” or “Dave Chappelled” tonight. My thoughts as I was strolling out the door: “Honey, you’re not in their league, and I’m not spending a night in jail over the likes of you.”

The worst part is, I didn’t get to hear Studly’s laugh. Sure wish I’d done my research on Mr. Schneider.

Peace, people.

A Stroll Through Dorothy P. Oven Park

On Saturday morning I rose early and drove across Tallahassee to stroll around a Christmas craft fair at Dorothy P. Oven Park. I didn’t buy anything, but I enjoyed the misty morning while wandering around the expansive grounds of this beautiful park. I’m not the greatest photographer, but maybe you can get an idea of how lovely this place is.

Peace, people.

Made With Love

Life can be so hard. People do bad things out of greed or ignorance. Others judge their fellow humans based on race, religion, skin color, gender identity, and a whole host of other categories. Wars are fought. Innocents die. No one ever really wins.

It’d be so easy to become angry, embittered, jaded.

But then, you have lunch at a vegan place where they know you by name. Where they care about you and are glad to see you. Where they do stuff like this:

My friends at Sweet Pea Cafe did this.

And for a little while, all is right with the world.

Peace, people.

Rock Steady

On my way into the mall where my favorite coffee shop is located I paused to hold open the door for an older gentleman. It was one of those awkward situations—he was just outside of the distance that demanded the courtesy, but of an age that I worried about his stamina. I erred on the side of being an overly concerned citizen.

He thanked me with a smile. “This old man appreciates your help.”

“Old? Hardly. Besides, I see by your t-shirt that you’re one of the folks who’s part of the boxing class that works out here. I doubt you need any help at all.”

I’d noticed the Rock Steady t-shirts before on elderly boxers at the small fitness center in the mall. The boxers always looked serious in a fun way. Like, “I could probably kick your ass, but I won’t ’cause I’m a nice guy.”

The man laughed. “Well, the class is only for folks with Parkinson’s, so depending on the day, I just might need your help.”

“I had no idea. Does the boxing help?”

He stopped at the entrance to the gym. “Absolutely. Best thing I’ve ever done for myself. Helps me forget what this disease has taken from me. Makes me feel young again.”

“Maybe I should take up boxing,” I said.

He smiled. “I highly recommend it. Thanks again young lady.”

I resisted the urge to hug him for the young lady remark, and hurried on in hopes of securing my favorite table at the coffee shop—the one in the corner that allows me to people watch as I work on editing my current work in progress. After ordering my usual chai latte I set up my laptop in the highly coveted location and scanned through yesterday’s pages. Outside the window I caught a flash of red. Boxing gloves. The Parkinson’s pugilists were throwing punches at unseen opponents. It was a beautiful sight.

Peace, people!

Here’s a link to the Tallahassee gym that offers the Rock Steady boxing program for those diagnosed with Parkinson’s. https://sweattherapyfitness.com

Rock Steady has its own website to provide further information and to direct folks to facilities near them that offer the fitness program. If you’d like to donate you can do so there, as well. https://www.rocksteadyboxing.org/

From Pinterest

Peace, people!

A Second Date

Several days ago I wrote about having lunch with a lizard. (Link below).

https://nananoyz5forme.com/2021/09/13/lunch-companion/

It was a pleasant lunch, but the lizard and I didn’t exchange phone numbers or anything, so I was surprised and a little bit flattered to find him saving a table for us when I arrived at Sweet Pea Cafe for lunch this morning.

Stanley (I believe he looks like a Stanley) was at the same table as last time, but didn’t skitter away when I approached. Instead, he waited patiently while I placed my lunch and lemonade near him.

The unfurling of my napkin seemed to unnerve him, so Stanley slid into the space between the slats where he watched me take out my book and unwrap my fork.

He emerged a bit to study me as I ate. I offered to direct some ants in his direction, but he said he’d already eaten.

He stayed this close to me the entire time I was engaged in eating.

Several other diners commented on my companion. A small child squealed in delight and Stanley dove beneath the table. He was still nearby, though, when it was time for me to leave. I didn’t get his number, but I think we might have some ESP going on. ‘Til next time, Stan.

Peace, people.

Sweet Pea Specials

Since switching to a vegan diet I’ve become a frequent diner at Sweet Pea Cafe in Tallahassee. I have favorite dishes—the Caesar Wrap is one, and Rancheros is another, but I give a thumbs up to everything on their menu. It’s all vegan, all the time.

The specials board never fails to make me smile even if I’m not enticed to try what’s listed. I’m a messy person and sometimes the special isn’t suited to dining in one’s car.

Today’s specials were particularly inventive.

The BBQ Streisand was tempting, but I could well imagine the resulting bbq splotches on my tee shirt.

If you live anywhere near Tallahassee pay this little unassuming cafe on Tharpe Street a visit. Tell them Leslie sent you.

Peace, people!

Estate Sale Art

In Tallahassee estate sales are often nothing more than glorified yard sales. I never get my hopes up that I’ll find something that will make my heart smile. But occasionally I come away with a perfect purchase.

Saturday morning I followed my GPS directions to a home in an older part of Tallahassee. Parking was interesting. The street adjacent to the house was narrow and curvy and the home sat atop a hill with a driveway right out of the Alps. One had to walk up the hill to access the home, and I felt like yodeling when I crested the rise. The reward for that climb was a nondescript home surrounded by overgrown shrubbery.

I considered just walking back down the steep incline and going to brunch, but my heart was still thumping from the walk up to the house, so I decided to go inside and just meander around until I could catch my breath.

So glad I did. If ever there was a truth behind “don’t judge a book by its cover” this was it. My only problem was not having enough money to buy every piece of art in the home.

Two professionally framed prints by artist Ted DeGrazia came home with me.

“Roadrunner”
“Free as the Wind”

They look beautiful in my Texas-themed bedroom, replacing a goofy painting of a sunflower that I did years ago. I’m a lousy artist, so the sunflower will likely go to Goodwill or into a dumpster. I’m not sure Goodwill will accept it.

Peace, people!

Not a Rhetorical Question

How did I get here? In search of an estate sale in north Tallahassee, I missed a turn and ended up on a narrow dirt road in my effort to find the way back. My gps has a weird sense of humor sometimes.

It was a pretty shortcut; although, the track grew a bit too narrow in places for my liking.

Where I’m Going
Where I’d Been

And my little Chrysler really isn’t an off-road vehicle. A couple of times I wondered about turning around and going back the way I’d come, but there wasn’t an opportunity to do so.

After all my travails in the wilderness, the estate sale was disappointing. It’s as if I’d been lost on the Oregon Trail and there was no gold when I reached California. At least no one died of dysentery.

Peace, people!

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