Stayed in Ocala on the off chance my occasionally disappearing-into-the-ether son would answer the page I sent him. He's been torqued off at me for quite awhile and, based upon multiple failures to connect, odds are he still is. I suspect in the end it'll come down to a matter of wills. And I have one.
Pulled into the metropolis of Tavares, FL to visit my sister and her husband.
Jim was kind enough to demonstrate why I own a condo.
My (twin) sister, Judy with granddaughter, Kylie. Kylie has the greatest smile, but was able to ration it whenever I tried to take a picture. She is unable to hide that Meg Ryan-downturned mouth. That's why the smile (on both) is so good, it's juxtaposed with a starting frown.
Had a nice visit with Judy and left with a book of Dorothy Parker stories (one of my favorite authors). Judy is always good for a good book. Must run in the family.
Next stop: the person responsible for all this, my Mom.
Don't let the smile fool ya. This is one of the toughest people I've ever known. When she gets riled, she can go bear hunting with a switch. (Hint: look at the sign on the door.)
Had a great visit with Mom, reminiscing of days past. Fortunately, my sister wasn't present. Whenever they start reminiscing together it usually entails a history lesson on all the dastardly deeds I've committed in my life. Hmmm, come to think of it, scientist studying memory loss in the elderly should look into the fact that together they can remember every crappy thing I've ever done, but separately, they can hide their own Easter eggs. There's some kind of cooperative brainwave thingy going on here that merits study. And it ain't good for the fat kid.
After visiting with Mom, I stopped at King's BBQ for a couple of slabs and rode over to Lake Helen to stay with my brother Ron. Everyone has their own favorite BBQ and all argue their relative merits. King's is undoubtedly the best in the country and I don't care if you want to argue Kansas City, Memphis, North Carolina pulled pork, Texas brisket. It just doesn't matter. This is the best BBQ in America. Proof? Yeah, a priori, but yeah.
King's is located in the center of the Afro-American neighborhood in Eustis. I don't know when Mr. Thomas first started serving BBQ on Palmetto street, it's been there as long as I can remember. To my knowledge, there has never been a racial incident there; not even during the height of racial confrontation in American in the late 1950s and 1960s. And central Florida has a deserved and terrible history of oppression and Klan activity. For some reason, though, King's was sort of an undeclared demilitarized zone. If you want ribs or chicken you drive to King's get in line and place your order. It's been that way forever.
Ron and Donna live in Lake Helen right next to Cassadaga, Fla. This proximity is appropriate where my brother is concerned. He's been something other than normal as long as I've known him. He still ain't right, though he seems to do everything that way. If you've never heard of Cassadaga, it's essentially the central point for mediums and paranormal activities in America. (See recent Rolling Stone article at http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/album/13990886/review/14010793/cassadaga).
In any event, my brother just ain't right (probably ain't fittin' either). But he married well. Donna is one of the neatest people I've ever encountered. She shares a lot of traits with my Aunt Francis. And that's high ground in anyone's book.
See what I mean about him? He suggested this Grant Wood take-off. Were Wood still alive he'd undoubtedly be looking at a career change.
Nephew Lee. Jury's out on just how much this guy takes after his father. Yeah, we're worried.
Ron and I went to the pickin' and grinnin' session later. The guys get together every Friday night and play and sing, and carry on. The wives let it happen because it keeps 'em off the streets and away from hookers. (Hey, I'm just guessing here...what other reason could they possibly have?) Worked...didn't see a single one.
Finally started checking my eyelids for holes at about 1:00 a.m. That's awfully late for an old guy like me. I need my beauty sleep, plus I've got to start for home tomorrow.
Ring, Ring Goes The Bell
Got a very pleasant, and needed, surprise from Ron when I got here. He replaced my lost bell (see Day 4). This is significant, because, for the bell to work its magic it must be given to you, you just can't go buy your own and put it on your bike and expect gremlin-free operation. It just doesn't work that way. Ron remembered that he had a bell that would be the perfect replacement for my loss. And he was right. Thanks, brother. Made me much more comfortable on the ride home.
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