I'm in day six of my
"spring break." The weather has been ideal. I am clicking away at my keyboard while sitting at the patio bar of the friends I am staying with. This is where they have their coffee every morning, 340 days a year. It's also their gathering spot for happy hour or night-time libations. Florida
They live on a golf course -- it is
South Florida after all. Every 15 or 20 minutes another rickety old golfer comes staggering up to the pool screen looking for his or her ball. Two-thirds of them have Brooklyn accents as they yell back and forth to one another. "Ira, did you see where my bowl went?"
Living on a golf course has its advantages. I lived on one down here for a couple of years and other than the errant ball that came crashing through a window every once in a while, the pluses out weighed the minuses. I could do without the mowers and leaf blowers going at in the morning, but, like living next to a railroad track, you eventually filter out the noise.
In the meantime, you have a nice view and no obnoxious (which most of them are) neighbors butting up to your backyard. What's not to like?
Today and tomorrow will be the business portion of this trip. I have to head to
for a Subaru event tonight and tomorrow. They are putting me up at the Fountainebleau Hotel. I've stayed there previously; it's quite the happening spot. Tomorrow we are to press on to Miami Key Largo where we will drive Subarus to our heart's content. Then it will be a slugfest through rush-hour traffic getting back up to . The Donner Party made better time than I will tomorrow, inching my way back to civilization. Palm Beach County
I never make this trip, though, without remembering the battle cry of
, "The last American out of the city, bring the flag!" Miami
It may actually be too late.