Bimini Goomba

My friend Hallie has a story all of her own and an interesting one to boot but I felt inspired to focus on one chapter. Or maybe I figured if I wrote about it now I wouldn't have to think about it..that much anyway.
A prequel: During my freshman year at Marymount, we went on a day trip to Bimini. This is in S. Florida,remember-not exactly far away. The main attraction was that three miles out, there was no drinking age. And the Bimini excursion was just a few hours of meandering around dusty streets, being stared at by sullen natives. I was happy to get back on the boat. I felt very...uneasy being there.
Fast-forward a few years: I'm a Florida Gator(flunking out mostly). This was before Rhett.I babysat at Gene's house,drank beer at Frat parties and was still virginal. I had an older friend named Hallie who had a nervous breakdown (like I stated earlier,her story is for another day. Or maybe never). While she was committed to the psychiatric wing in Shands hospital, Anita,I and her mother took turns caring for her little boy. Hallie's mom told me the story.
When Hallie was in high school she and her family visited Bimini. While there,she took a liking to a native painting. It depicted a road and a hut along the road. Along the side of the hut on a bench sat an old woman making a basket. Her eyes were downcast,intent on the task at hand.
Hallie was looking at the painting one night as she was wont to do. It hung over the couch in the living room. All of a sudden the old lady's head began to move. Very slowly. Hallie thought she was imagining it. Then her head came all the way up and her eyes, big black holes,stared directly at Hallie. She started to scream and scream."I couldn't run to the door. I couldn't move." she told her mother later. Of course, this was only a cry for help. Hallie had issues she did get help for.
But like I said before, I wanted to write about it so I wouldn't have to think about it. What happened to the painting? I moved it myself-behind the couch facing the wall. I told Anita sternly to"Just leave it" when she said I was being silly.
Note to self-Never lose your mind. Or at least don't invest in native art.
This is Halloween,isn't it? But this is a true story.

He made us laugh.....

R.I.P. Soupy Sales

In Memorium-a record collection :-(

When I left South Florida years ago, my cherished record collection (Yes...real records..LPs) resided in a box in my closet,safely tucked into their album covers. When my mother moved from that house into my grandmother's house,that box was supposed to be put into the utility room. Ah, fool that I was.
Records are heavy and I no longer had a turntable so I admit that they were put on the backburner of my mind.
However, when my mother died and my children went down to the house to go through all the stuff to retrieve things for me (books,photos) I was also notified that that box no longer existed. Instead there was an occasional LP found,no cover. What? What? What in the F happened? Were they used as coasters? Were they given to the neighbor children as frisbees? Did the Miami Dolphins use them for punting practice? I guess I'll never know. So I grieve.
The record album was something special. The record itself,of course,but inside you usually found other treasures-liner notes,posters,tour pictures and always LYRICS. I remember every Beatle album-always momentous. I had a wine party for my friends when I brought home "Jesus Christ Superstar". I sold my favorite Neil Young album to buy food. A few melted in the South Florida heat. A few were stolen.
My one major regret is that I never kept record of them. Every once in a while I'll remember one -oh, that Graham Nash record was really good. But me keeping record?Not in my nature, I guess.
So heres to the old record albums! If you have any,keep them close. The cost of turntables keep going down. Enjoy.