I've not done an update on this blog in a long time ..... only excuse: life in general. This posting was to go on our regular blog about life with our daughter, but it merits being posted here do to it's content. Enjoy .....
The time came when HomeDaddy required a day off from his appointed duties serving The Empress. MamaBe also desired some ‘alone’ time in the presence of royalty. It was decided that HD would go to the beach while MB remained behind in their humble abode just out the back door of Disney.
After signing off some paperwork at the attorney’s office for the young one’s Florida Birth Certificate, it was off to New Smyrna Beach, a somewhat sleepy beach town about 10 miles south of Daytona Beach. Around this time, it tends to liven up a bit with the overflow of spring breakers, and HomeDaddy found out that he was just on the edge of the revelers making their full blown presence known. The annual event would be in total swing by next weekend.
HD had been suffering from a bulging disc (to match his bulging waistline) for some time, and felt quite good on Friday, after checking in at his oceanfront room (not really as glamorous as it sounds), so a short walk up the beach seemed perfectly in order. Then it hit …. Shots of pain up and down the right leg from the hip to the ankle and back. Turning around to start back, he realizes that he’s gone farther than he should have and limps, gimps and staggers his way south as the last ray of light disappears behind another slinky dink motel marring what once was a pristine natural beach. He sits down and comes to the
realization that his trek along the ocean would be a lot longer than originally planned. No more cars on the beach …. Can’t hitchhike back. Limp, gimp, stagger. Finally, the lights of the flickering neon sign came into view …. HD was never so glad to see The Surf High Motel. Back in the bare bones room: “Bartender. A round of Tylenol 3 for everyone!” The snores could be heard out on A1A sounding like a beached sea monster.
Next morning, after trying to stretch out the stiffness, it was off to the nearest Starbucks. A sad fact: not one was to be found between NSB and Daytona. This town is so laid back that residents haven’t the foggiest what a Double MachoCappoFrappoLatto is. It would be totally out of character for a Starbucks to occupy a storefront on Flagler Avenue, a 4 block street with several bars, musty eateries, trendy beach shoppes and rental offices. My
favorite dive is The Breakers, located directly on the beach with an open air seating area overlooking all the activity at Oceanside. I avoided my usual basket of fried clams for an ahi tuna salad which hit the spot when accompanied by a $5.00 Blue Moon draft. The entertainment on the beach at spring break brought back memories of college days as I tried to remember if I had a memory back then.
The pain returned to my leg and back around mid-afternoon, so a lounge next to the pool with a book sounded like a good thing. “The Smokers Over 65
Convention” must have been in town. Their smoke, complimented by odors of sunscreen, sweat, and cheap cologne gently wafting my way on an occasional sea breeze made for an aromatic as well as visual feast. I then remembered why I am drawn to the beach – walking and swimming. With my leg on the fritz, it made it impossible to participate in my favorite pastimes and caused me to look at the scene at poolside. I don’t want this to be me in a few years. It caused me to miss dearly my 2 year old daughter and super-woman wife and reflect on the necessity to maintain my health in order to be there when they need me.
I thought “Gee. Sure glad I had the ahi instead of the fried nasties.” Well, it was a start.
A tuna sub for dinner, followed by a Tylenol 3 chaser and it was lights out at 9. I missed the gleaming of the dawn’s early light over the ocean as it was a difficult night with pain and opted to take off early for home in the Magic Kingdom. MamaBe and The Empress were at church (bad HomeDaddy played hookie – I’m gonna die and go to hell – wait – different dogma) and it wasn’t long before being greeted to the shrill screams of “Daddy! Daddy!” It was music to my ears.
This week: more physical therapy and a look at what I’m putting in my pie hole. I need to be around for the important stuff…….
The time came when HomeDaddy required a day off from his appointed duties serving The Empress. MamaBe also desired some ‘alone’ time in the presence of royalty. It was decided that HD would go to the beach while MB remained behind in their humble abode just out the back door of Disney.
After signing off some paperwork at the attorney’s office for the young one’s Florida Birth Certificate, it was off to New Smyrna Beach, a somewhat sleepy beach town about 10 miles south of Daytona Beach. Around this time, it tends to liven up a bit with the overflow of spring breakers, and HomeDaddy found out that he was just on the edge of the revelers making their full blown presence known. The annual event would be in total swing by next weekend.
HD had been suffering from a bulging disc (to match his bulging waistline) for some time, and felt quite good on Friday, after checking in at his oceanfront room (not really as glamorous as it sounds), so a short walk up the beach seemed perfectly in order. Then it hit …. Shots of pain up and down the right leg from the hip to the ankle and back. Turning around to start back, he realizes that he’s gone farther than he should have and limps, gimps and staggers his way south as the last ray of light disappears behind another slinky dink motel marring what once was a pristine natural beach. He sits down and comes to the
realization that his trek along the ocean would be a lot longer than originally planned. No more cars on the beach …. Can’t hitchhike back. Limp, gimp, stagger. Finally, the lights of the flickering neon sign came into view …. HD was never so glad to see The Surf High Motel. Back in the bare bones room: “Bartender. A round of Tylenol 3 for everyone!” The snores could be heard out on A1A sounding like a beached sea monster.Next morning, after trying to stretch out the stiffness, it was off to the nearest Starbucks. A sad fact: not one was to be found between NSB and Daytona. This town is so laid back that residents haven’t the foggiest what a Double MachoCappoFrappoLatto is. It would be totally out of character for a Starbucks to occupy a storefront on Flagler Avenue, a 4 block street with several bars, musty eateries, trendy beach shoppes and rental offices. My
favorite dive is The Breakers, located directly on the beach with an open air seating area overlooking all the activity at Oceanside. I avoided my usual basket of fried clams for an ahi tuna salad which hit the spot when accompanied by a $5.00 Blue Moon draft. The entertainment on the beach at spring break brought back memories of college days as I tried to remember if I had a memory back then.The pain returned to my leg and back around mid-afternoon, so a lounge next to the pool with a book sounded like a good thing. “The Smokers Over 65
Convention” must have been in town. Their smoke, complimented by odors of sunscreen, sweat, and cheap cologne gently wafting my way on an occasional sea breeze made for an aromatic as well as visual feast. I then remembered why I am drawn to the beach – walking and swimming. With my leg on the fritz, it made it impossible to participate in my favorite pastimes and caused me to look at the scene at poolside. I don’t want this to be me in a few years. It caused me to miss dearly my 2 year old daughter and super-woman wife and reflect on the necessity to maintain my health in order to be there when they need me.I thought “Gee. Sure glad I had the ahi instead of the fried nasties.” Well, it was a start.
A tuna sub for dinner, followed by a Tylenol 3 chaser and it was lights out at 9. I missed the gleaming of the dawn’s early light over the ocean as it was a difficult night with pain and opted to take off early for home in the Magic Kingdom. MamaBe and The Empress were at church (bad HomeDaddy played hookie – I’m gonna die and go to hell – wait – different dogma) and it wasn’t long before being greeted to the shrill screams of “Daddy! Daddy!” It was music to my ears.
This week: more physical therapy and a look at what I’m putting in my pie hole. I need to be around for the important stuff…….
