hats, flip-flops and socks on display amidst the wine selection
Stadiapa Steps Out in Nikeys
My Dad wanted to head out to dinner to “The Steakhouse” on Woodville Road. The eatery sets across the street from an oil refinery and adjacent to an old, no longer existent Kroger store he used to service.
He forgot his shoes.
We ordered and on the way out I surveyed the dining room after washing my hands.
“That’s ok Dad,” I said. (I wore my Nikeys out, too). “One table of guys was seated with their ballcaps on. At the table next to them was a woman wearing her flip-flops with socks.”
I “won” a Malibu and soda this summer at one of my pool haunts.
The air pump was down; or no where to be found (I can’t recall which), and I set up shop in a lounge chair and added air via my own two lungs.
Unbeknownst to me the local women at the pool bar put their pennies down and bet the local men I would be able to inflate the SUNNYLiFE circular sensation (filled with glitter).
Needless to say I won; and was given the opportunity to boast of my water logged resume. We quickly turned the topic to OceanGate; a global news tragedy I am captivated with. After spending two summers in SCUBA gear with this outfit the question is posed as to why anyone would opt to risk their life.
My reasons are the same as the adventure explorers on the submersible which made waves with the phrase we all now know: implosion, taking the lives of everyone inside.
Number one is ocean exploration; and then, there is the almighty ego.
At this point in my life my ego has drown; and life is blissful. My lungs are intact and working wonderfully now that I’ve given up oak milk. I’ll take my pool floats, books, snorkel gear, swimwear, cabana, dry sand, pool tile, master’s swim workouts and jumping in to assist with the kids’ swim lessons over life-threatening depths, chasing ocean creatures and seasickness.
Let’s enjoy what’s left of summer now that the sun has started to fade before 9 p.m.
One could smell and easily detect the ambiance of the old digs upon arrival. Uptown Amherst was home to “Amherst Party Shop & Video,” a carryall that catered to the town’s revelry and endless entertainment with store shelves stocked with beer, wine, liquor and every accessory to accommodate the occasion. Everything’s now posh and new. Everything’s now organic, fresh and wonderfully good for you.
I grew up a kid in Amherst in the 80s. The bedroom community of twenty-five thousand residents was developed then with every amenity a youngster could want. The atmosphere was made alive with an uptown bowling alley, movie theatre, a Ben Franklin’s, library, public pool, sledding hills plus shopping.
I’m thrilled, during visits back to the 44001 homeland, the digs in 2023 a still fit the asterial ambiance of the Amherst Comets.
Complete with a Cat 5 Labor Day Hurricane Storyline
The granddaughter of a Latin Teacher, my mom retired after twenty four years of teaching English, Reading and Applied Communications to Seniors in the Sandusky County School District. She was a slave to her students and their academic instruction.
Retirement didn’t last long. She set sail for an island south of Miami and Labor Day Weekend 2020 marks the ideal time to focus on her new Florida Keys “employment”.
To Work with Mommy
She’s conducting educational tours to visitors from around the world on Pigeon Key, an island rich in development, tropical and hurricane history. Most notably the Labor Day Hurricane of 1935. One could spend years studying the strength and devastation of this storm. The Director of the island asked her to share her enthusiasm for the island and years of classroom instruction and to be the spokeswoman for the schooling. She agreed, but “not for free.” Nice work mom! We taught her well. She named the price on her paycheck.
I went to work with her and captured a slideshow earlier this year.
A brief background. This remote island, now only accessible via ferry provided he backdrop for many family getsaways, gatherings, bonfires, and overnight stays.
And check this out: My mom and me for this year’s 2020 photo op against the old railroad bridge destroyed by the Labor Day Hurricane of 1935.
We didn’t plan this. The same pier with an altered pose of the 2012 Save the Bridge Calendar Shoot that landed me on the pages as Miss May.
Hurray! Time to celebrate all that time at the grind. St. Hazards on Middle Bass Island, Lake Erie provides the laid back land for anyone looking to escape the punch of the time clock with a Pina Colada. Make that a Pina Colada with a Captain Morgan Spiced Rum Float. Besides lounge chairs, a full menu, campground and fire pits, the property, nestled a fifty minute ferry ride out into Lake Erie, sells, serves, or rents all of the other fundamentals to make forgetting about slaving away simple.
The anti-slog list is straightforward. A straw hat from the gift shop.
A MBI bracelet from the gift shop, and a coconut to showcase the selection of Caribbean Rum cocktails.
Golf carts and beach cruiser bicycles are also for rent. The Panama Jack hat and ballcap add to the island ambiance of anti-industry.
Banana dress and Sperrys my own. The sweat and servitude can stay on the mainland where they belong. See everyone poolside to mark Labor Day Weekend 2020.
While we all wait for the main attraction at St. Hazard’s, the pool, to return to the hue of the Mediterranean Sea; let’s turn our attention to another resort feature: the island gift shop. Inside one can typically not only hear the phone ring with eager travelers wanting to know how to reach the ferry; and even more importantly, potential guests wanting to know “how close is Put-in-Bay,” but the entrance area is loaded with gear to wear on site for an island experience.
A look at the prices of all items shown.
Note there isn’t any sticker shock. Shop away while maintenance shocks the pool. We are anticipating pristine pool water for another wonderful weekend ahead.
A two and a half hour flight out of Detroit or Cleveland and a two and a half hour drive to an island south of Miami lands me at my mom’s. She recently departed from her estate on Ohio’s north coast.
The new guest room has cute seashells. After all of the planing, boating and pulse of the tropical sun I am zapped. There I can toss on a long sleeve shirt, fuzzy socks and can take an afternoon siesta in the sheets.
Once recharged guests can throw on swimwear, grab a beach hat, a towel and head over to the pool for some r&r.
Soda Pup likes to greet guests at the gate.
Fifty miles more of US 1 and a trip across the seven mile bridge puts everyone on the island of Key West. Fun nights with my mom around the corner from my old loft included drag queen entertainment.
Let’s expand on the black bag I am touting for Christmastide. (I lost track of the days, as always, and don’t remember how many of my favorite goods I’ve already shown readers.) The Epiphany is still on where the three Wise Men bring gifts. My Brahmin Daisy Wristlet is Crocodile Embossed.
Meaning: the fabric is not actual reptile hide, but is instead a stamped bovine leather.
I haven’t taken a purse, wristlet, wallet or phone out with me since oh, I don’t know… 2010 or 2012. There is a reason for this. Here is a rare occasion I had a green wristlet with a gold alligator detail. The style isn’t reflective of any climate north of Orlando.
I realized I needed something to take with me when meeting my girlfriends out to toss my keys and Pure Color Lip Envy into with a compact, business cards, cash, credit card and driver’s license.
The Wristlet from the Melbourne collection also comes in Pecan and sells for less than one hundred dollars.
Is everyone tired of celebrating? I’m glad I have some organic lemon juice chilled in the fridge leftover from making the Limoncello. After all of this eating, drinking, celebrating, decorating, tearing down the Christmas Trees and opening presents I am ready for a reprieve. Even Bosco has been spoiled beyond belief with new toys and treats. Have you seen his new bed?
Buy the Brahmin here. Click here to shop the artisan collection.