April 1, 2022, Americus, GA- That would be this southwest Georgia city’s Windsor Hotel, built in 1892, as part of the then-inchoate “snowbird” travel industry that was unfolding in Alabama, Florida, Georgia and South Carolina. The Windsor is now a Best Western property, but no less regal than in the day. She certainly rules downtown Americus.
Windsor Hotel, Americus, GAWindsor Hotel and Lamar Street, AmericusInterior lobby, Windsor Hotel, Americus, GA
The town itself was founded in 1830 and named for Amerigo Vespucci, as were, of course, our very continents. Jokesters among the town’s first settlers called themselves the “merry cusses”, but that’s another story. Some prominent folks have visited here: Franklin D. Roosevelt, when he was Governor of New York (his favoured winter haunt, Warm Springs, is not far to the north) and George W. Bush, as President, after the town was shattered by a tornado, in 2007. Then, there was “Shoeless Joe” Jackson, of Black Sox Scandal infamy, who coached Americus’ baseball team, after his being disgraced. Perhaps most closely associated with Americus is former President Jimmy Carter, of nearby Plains.
Sweet Georgia Bakery and Cafe is across the street from the Windsor. It’s one of those spots that give any city a homey feel, so breakfast at Sweet Georgia, it was, this morning. I later took a walk past Muckalee Creek, wider in some spots than in others.
Muckalee Creek, on north side of AmericusMuckalee Creek, near park west of Americus
It is certainly “mucky”, but so are a good many bodies of fresh water in the Southeast. Local fish and reptiles seem to prefer it that way. Americus, anyway, is a nice place to catch one’s breath and regroup, after a busy and rewarding journey around the periphery of peninsular Florida. Tomorrow will bring Koinonia Farm, Jimmy Carter National Historic Site and the memorial to the Tuskegee Airmen.
March 31, 2022, Americus, GA- The young server’s energy seemed to fill the room, as she took my order one minute, helped her boss set up for a birthday group the next and returned with my drink and two sets of checks for departing patrons, three minutes later. It was clear from her focus and poise that P enjoys her job, and equally clear that she is destined for higher ground. For now, she is everywhere at once, in Cowboys Firepit Grill.
Earlier in the day, I had a couple of lengthy conversations with T, who seemed to be almost a permanent desk clerk at the motel where I stayed, in Weeki Wachee, Florida-more a sign of the times, than an overwhelming desire on her part to hang out at her workplace. Shining through our talks were her love for, and worry over, her daughter (what single parent doesn’t wish for more time with their child?), and her focus on the quality of service provided by the motel.
When I went to a branch of my bank, in Lutz-about forty minutes southeast of Weeki Wachee, in order to take care of my April apartment rent, long distance, D, the teller, took the time to walk me through navigation of the bank’s application on my phone, and processed the transaction as quickly as my account’s minders back in Arizona would allow-which was ten minutes. During this time, D also helped three other customers get either started or finished with their transactions. He also showed me that the bank has an electronic money transfer system that is shared by my landlord’s bank-for future reference. This will certainly make things easier, the next time I’m on the road at the end of a month.
There have been several slackers I’ve encountered on this observational journey, but the three people I mention above, a teenaged woman, a thirty-something single mother and a man in his mid-twenties, embody the kind of work ethic that so many people my age see as having gone by the wayside. Diligence and pride in work are far from dead. None of these people gave an inch in their attention to detail or maintenance of professional standards. Thus did they also mirror my younger sister-in-law, who works two jobs, and with whom I had dinner on Wednesday evening. They mirror my middle brother, who worked diligently in the management of four companies, over a forty-year period, and who hosted me at his home, at the beginning of this trip. I see some of myself in each of the three, though I wish I’d had their focus, at a comparable stage in my own working life.
In short, pride in work is far from passe’. P told me to be sure to stop by again, if I am in the area. I’ll do her one better and pass the word on Cowboys Firepit Grill and Bar, Lake Park, GA, to my brother and his crew back in Atlanta. It’s worth the time, especially as he likes exploring small towns around Georgia.
March 30, 2022, Weeki Wachee, FL- The hapless individual, wearing a health agency tee shirt, began to clutch the area just below her rib cage. Her nurse friends got a chair and had her sit down, while they summoned a team to offer a higher level of care. Those in the waiting area made sure that she did not fall out of the chair, in the interim. Her pain did not abate and within twenty minutes, an ambulance arrived and took her to a larger facility.
The psychologist Leon Festinger offers the theory that much disbelief that interferes with a person acknowledging what is clearly taking place in front of him, is the result of cognitive dissonance-the distinction between normative unfolding of events (“business as usual”) and a drastic, wholly unexpected changed sequence of events, which is nonetheless real.
It took me a few seconds to look past the tee-shirt and see only another human being in acute distress. Yes, my guard was up for her safety until a proper team gathered around her and off they went to hospital. I relayed the gist of this incident to others without, of course, identifying so much as the location of the facility. My presence there was only to get a few stitches removed, from a procedure that was done two weeks ago. That matter took mere minutes. The poor lady’s husband arrived on scene and was likewise driven to her hospital by a close friend of theirs. Their ordeal may well have taken hours, perhaps much longer.
The cognitive dissonance that is vocalized by “It can’t happen here!”, is again and again being tossed in our faces, by a system that is collapsing, in one way nor another-and is being replaced by a structure that is both ground up and side by side. There is a top down element, but it is not the sort that the once dominant forces think they want. Those whose mantra is the above statement cannot but be increasingly confused by all that seems to be happening around us.
I am more certain that many of the changes we see will redound to the betterment of the human race. Those that don’t do so will likely bring changes in other ways, that will be to our betterment over time. We could discuss this all night, but it’s time for this one to rest.
March 29, 2022, Spring Hill, FL- I sat patiently on one of the rock benches outside the Dali Museum, whilst a budding model was having a short photo shoot on the limestone pillar that is one of the building’s supports. Once it was completed, her photographer came over and asked if I would be so kind as to take a photo of the two of them and their male friend. I agreed, and as they were delighted with my photograph, a couple of shots of me at the rock pillar were taken. Thus was a memorable encounter with Kellie, Tyler and the model, who wouldn’t give her name. It is always a joy to encourage young people in their endeavours, however these may look at first glance.
Limestone support, Dali Museum, St. Petersburg
The day began in the one and only hostel dedicated to the memory of the one and only Gram Parsons. The rock/country music fusion pioneer, so bedeviled in his personal life, like so many musicians of the 1960s and ’70s, still casts a giant shadow on the music scene, forty-nine years after his death. Like the man himself, Gram’s Place is eclectic, over the top and leaves an indelible impression.
Entry to Gram’s Place, Tampa
The Flying Burrito Brothers were an offshoot of The Byrds, organized professionally by Gram and a fellow Byrds alumnus, Chris Hillman. Gram worked with this band from early 1969, until mid 1970, freely admitting he was a bit on the lazy side, while still coming up with amazing material, when he was so moved.
This take on a Bob Dylan song captures both Gram’s talent and his nonchalance. It also foreshadows his passing.Chaotic Montage, Gram’s Place. Tampa
You just never know what you might find, on the grounds of this fascinating hostel. It’ll rank as one of the best places at which I’ve ever stayed. Luxury is nice, but authenticity rules!
It was soon on to downtown Tampa. Parking my vehicle in a spacious lot, I set a loop that took in the city’s Riverwalk, went over a bridge across the Hillsborough River and through Plant Park (named for Henry S. Plant, a railway pioneer) and the University of Tampa. The city was in a fairly relaxed frame of mind, into early afternoon.
Curtis Hixon Waterfront Park, TampaHillsborough River, TampaBank of America Plaza, Tampa
In January, 2002, a teenager, Charles Bishop (nee Bishara), crashed a stolen Cessna into the Bank of America building. He was the sole casualty of the crash. He left a letter, claiming to have been inspired by al-Qaida.
Bridge across Hillsborough River, from Riverwalk to West Side, TampaPropeller sculpture, commemorating the first commercial plane flight, from St. Petersburg to Tampa, 3/1/1914
Tony Jannus, a 25-year-old pilot, transported a former mayor of St. Petersburg, and a bag of mail, on the nation’s first commercial flight, across Tampa Bay.
First Baptist Church, west side of TampaPlant Hall, University of Tampa
This large complex was once a hotel, operated by the entrepreneur, Henry Plant. It became the University of Tampa, in 1932. The steel minarets were regarded by Mr. Plant as a symbol of majesty. They are a point of pride for the city and for U of T’s students.
Veterans Memorial, Plant Park, Tampa
Once back across the river, it was time to head to Tampa’s sister, St. Petersburg-named, on a coin toss, by Peter Demens, a Russian immigrant, after his home city. Had the coin toss gone the other way, “St. Pete” may well have been named Detroit.
Fountain, Veterans Memorial Park, St. Petersburg, FLGeneral Tadieusz Kosciusko
Brigadier General Kosciusko, who cam from Poland to assist the Continental Army in America’s War for Independence, also sought freedom for enslaved Africans, and bequeathed funds for their education and training, after emancipation. Alas, this wish of his would not be met, even in rudimentary fashion, until the 1860s.
City of St. Petersburg MarinaWhite ibis, looking for dinner, St. PetersburgDali Museum, St. Petersburg“Eagle Catcher”, outside James Museum of Western and Wildlife Art, St. Petersburg
This sculpture by Vic Payne is found in various cities. It does capture the spirit of St. Petersburg, as much as it does any other city. After a lovely day in the “Florida Twins”, I was ready for the quieter clime of Spring Hill, an hour to the north.
March 28, 2022, Tampa- The boaters, bicyclists and joggers were out in force, on Sunday night. Not so, the swimmers. Lake Okeechobee has been something of a sink, for pesticides, over the past half-century. It is a matter of expedience, for the sugar industry and other agricultural concerns-with only passing interest in the welfare of their neighbours on either coast. Fort Myers, on the Gulf, gets much of the toxic release, but Palm Beach isn’t spared either. More consistent watchers than yours truly point out: https://www.tcpalm.com/story/opinion/2022/01/14/florida-must-enforce-pollution-rules-lake-okeechobee-our-view/6510462001/.
I can see where this body of water could easily be another bonus for Florida, if the will to correct archaic views on the processing of sugar and the disposal of toxic elements were in place. The berms would have to come down, and jetties/marinas built, over a decade of correction. We have seen cases where people in Belle Glade, on the south shore of “Lake O” and Pahokee, on the north shore, became terribly ill from the presence of waste that got into their drinking water. That aspect has been somewhat corrected- Big Sugar can’t have its workforce debilitated. The plagues that hit both coasts, though, with algae blooms off Fort Myers, Cape Coral and Port St. Lucie, in recent years, have scarcely been addressed.
I spent about six hours in Clewiston, on the southwest corner of Okeechobee, just long enough to see the effects of the current malaise on the populace. As in any community with a naturally salubrious environment that has been ravaged, (Gary, IN and Niagara Falls, NY also come to mind), there is fair measure of civic pride, just below the surface. The manager of the motel, where I stayed on Sunday night was effusive in telling me about the places “where the action is” and was outside in the evening, hosing down the parking lot-just enough so there was no runoff. Lake Okeechobee has a trail encircling it, which ought to be an integral part of a tourist and hiker-infused economy.
Back channel at Lake Okeechobee, Clewiston, FL Channel shore, Lake Okeechobee, Clewiston
March 27, 2022, Naples. FL– Not long ago, I made contact with a man who has the same first and last name as me. This Gary Boivin is Assistant Director of Naples Botanical Garden. The emphasis in this exquisite facility is on the sights and smells of tropical plants from all corners of the globe.
For this post, I am going to let the pictures tell their own stories. Here are a dozen of the best.
Entryway to GardenBrazilian GardenLotus Pond, Brazilian GardenCaribbean GardenGround cover, Caribbean GardenShaving Brush, Caribbean GardenFrame from Mahabharata, Asian GardenMixed beds, Asian Garden“Lost City”, Asian GardenLayered Waterfalls, Asian GardenCaribbean GardenNesting Bald Eagle
Though I did not actually meet my eponym, I have to say this body of work, the efforts of nearly a hundred people, is well worth an extended visit by anyone who finds self in Southwest Florida.
March 26, 2022, Naples, Florida- The sweet-spirited young woman was glad as heck, that someone entered her family’s small cafe, just as she was opening the door to business. I felt like royalty, being welcomed as if I was the first soul in years to stop by. It didn’t hurt that she had a gorgeous smile and a barely concealed measure of confidence. When I ordered coffee and a piece of fry bread, (a staple among the Miccosukee, as well as among First Nations people around the United States and Canada-a testimony to the creative use of worm-shot flour, back in the Nineteenth Century.), J placed the order for the bread and turned to her uncle and me, admitting that she only knew how to use a Keurig. Uncle D was nonplussed, and calmly showed his teenaged niece how to make coffee using a drip system. Her coffee was superb, as was her mother’s fry bread.
These are the extended family of my late Aunt Grace, who left Big Cypress after World War II, and never returned, even after leaving her husband. Gracie was content to raise her five children and work as a waitress at a discount department store’s lunch counter, until she died a few years back, at age 90. She was pleased when I went to work with other First Nations people, though. She was quiet. but firm in her assessment of things- much like young J.
The Miccosukee are a southern branch of the Seminole, who came to central and southern Florida in the 1700s, and are the branch of Seminole who managed to elude Andrew Jackson’s forces, when he was appointed military governor of Florida, in 1821. Today, they live along the Tamiami Trail and in sections of the Everglades and Big Cypress natural preserves. No sane United States official, today, would recommend moving these careful stewards from the Federal lands. South Florida is rightly viewed as a proving ground for our species’ commitment to conserving water and all other living natural resources.
I spent about an hour in Osceola Panther, as Uncle D’s small village and store are called. Here are some of the scenes from the store and along the Tamiami Canal outside.
Traditional Miccosukee Spirit MaskTraditional Miccosukee familyTamiami Canal, at Osceola PantherMiccosukee shade chickee
Another hour was spent, up the road, at Big Cypress National Preserve, which offers extensive programs to educate the public on the intertwining topographic areas of savanna and wetlands, which comprise most of southern and central Florida.
Here are a few scenes of everyone’s favourite swamp creature: The alligator.
Alligator feeding at Big Cypress National PreserveTwo alligators at rest.Juvenile alligator, looking for food
The heat became a bit enervating, after noon, when I found myself dealing with the hyper-energy of Naples, southwest Florida’s southern anchor community. Here, I found that I had returned to suburbia, intense high-speed traffic and people who had scant patience for one another. After a brief preliminary visit to Naples’ excellent Botanical Garden, I rested, took in a Baha’i planning session and rested more.
March 25, 2022, Miami Beach- “Key West is exactly right there!”, the little boy announced to his family, whilst looking over at the high rise apartments west of South Pointe, this city’s simultaneously trendy and well-preserved public park space/avant-garde neighbourhood.
I hope he gets the chance to see the real deal, while admiring the ever amazing range of a young imagination. South Pointe, about a thousand wonderful steps, end to end, presented a vibrant range of human activity-an example that would be well emulated by Floridians, and others, whose commitment to the car culture is rapidly reaching its limit. I was glad to have been able to walk there from the hostel in which I have been staying. The group of youths with whom I made an outing to Key West, yesterday, were off at a music festival and attending parties, but they had done this walk and enthusiastically recommended it to me.
There were many people swimming, playing beach football, fishing, catamaran racing, jet skiing and speedboat racing. Then there were the gymnasts- one young lady managed to balance herself, handstanding while supported by her male companion, who helped her shift position and weight, for over eight minutes. She easily outlasted three young men who were inspired to do their own handsprings and somersaults.
I admit to having been rejuvenated by a delightful small meal at Tanuki Japanese Restaurant, where I was served by five different people-four of whom seemed to be in competition to see who could be the most solicitous. (The world-weary manager of Bikini Hostel, where I am staying, thinks this is true, across the board, in Miami Beach.) The meal was lovely, despite the semblance of hustling.
It was sweet to see the full mix of humanity, from laid back surfer dudes to ladies and gentlemen dressed to the Nines, all within a quarter-mile radius of one another. All were just enjoying the wonder that is South Florida’s original “party beach”. (I am one of those who remembers “Surfside 6”, with Troy Donahue, Diane McBain and a young Mary Tyler Moore.)
South Pointe has lost none of the charm it exhibited on that show.
Lifeguard Tower, South BeachSouth Pointe Pier, Miami BeachNorthward view of South Pointe and South BeachJenga on the beach, with the leaning tower of South Pointe adjacent?Whale-sized drift wood, South Beach
This is not Papa Hemingway’s house. We never got over there today, but it comes close. This home is representative of the more modest homes in Key West, laid back but every bit as modern as any community in the United States.
Six of us came here, for a three-hour visit, which of course was extended to five hours-once traffic delays resulted in our Noon arrival becoming a 2 p.m. affair. We stayed in Key West proper until 6, then made stops for a couple of ladies to swim at Smathers Beach, as well as at the Southernmost Beach in the Continental United States and for my friends to get a drink at the Southernmost Bar in the Continental United States. We topped the day by taking in the sunset at Bahia Honda State Park, Big Pine Key-home to Key Deer, a mini deer that is only found in the middle Florida Keys. We did not see any deer.
We did enjoy butterflies, though, and two raucous flamingos. One butterfly landed on my broad-brimmed sun hat and another on the shoulder of one of the ladies. I will share a photo of my butterfly attempted-hitchhiker, when it is sent me by my friendly photographer. Here, in the meantime, are the flamingos.
Flamingos at Butterfly and Nature Conservancy, Key West
Here are a few scenes from the Southernmost Beach in the Continental United States.
Diaz-Carrasco House, Key WestSouthernmost Guest House in the Continental U.S., Key WestKey West Marine Park
Next is Smathers Beach, east of Key West.
Smathers Beach, Key WestFinally, a Keys sunset, at Bahai Honda State Park
Key West is a one-of-a-kind experience, even with a five hour drive from Miami.
March 23, 2022, Miami Beach- The belligerent man demanded I leave the small gathering, to which I’d been invited by a fellow hosteler from Nigeria. The angry one’s tone was fueled by alcohol, but was rooted in machismo. His whole premise was that no other man (other than the African gentleman, whom he somehow did not view as a threat) should be present at the table, whilst he was socializing with four women.
He correctly stated that a man my age had no business “romancing” women young enough to be my daughters, or granddaughters. That’s where the righteousness began to fray at the edges. He himself was old enough to be the father of two of the ladies.
Machismo is a false flag, rooted in insecurity. When he saw that I was not moved by his anger, a thoughtfulness, rooted in surety, took hold of the man, and he apologized profusely for his earlier outburst. It helped that the ladies, one of whom was, and remains, not inclined to be friendly towards either one of us, were a bit put off by his vitriol.
I long ago turned my back on machismo, and embraced a more genuine and fulfilling sense of masculinity, which is rooted in the same personhood as femininity. The hopes, dreams, legitimate aspirations of allare to be cherished and supported, regardless of any outward trappings that house a human’s spirit.
With that, I simply close with a scene of a Miami Beach sunset.
A Sagittarian Seeker 