Travel: To & From Florida... Part 2

Greetings!... from Florida, the land of swaying palms and pink flamingoes.

Actually we're home... been back for a while.

Came home to two mailboxes jam-packed with letters, magazines, and circulars  meant to be collected upon our return. Obviously, someone missed the memo... the one mistakenly delivered with the rest of our mail.

And in the mail were official notices... two from the courts, federal and county, for jury duty, and another from the township, about a water main project beginning on our block the very next day!

Welcome Home!... to life and its many surprises.

Much like our trip to Florida, where our biggest surprise was winning the lottery!

That would be the TSA precheck airport lottery, traveling in both directions, when we were randomly selected to forgo the crazy rituals of removing our shoes, belts, metal objects and having our carry-ons and electronic devices overly scrutinized. Instead, we were given quick passes to our terminals without any delay... well maybe just one, when at the last minute, Michael was also chosen by security to have his hands swiped for explosives. Twice!

Random or deliberate? That would be Michael, my husband, the once suspected 'alarm'-ticking terrorist (for details see 'Travel: To & From Florida... Part 1).

And once on-board, there were more surprises... roses and fluted glasses filled with champagne served to those of us in Coach!... while someone in First Class knelt down on one knee, and with confidence proposed marriage! Talk about long distance relationships and commitment! This engaged couple had been taking turns flying USAIR, every weekend, between Philadelphia and Fort Lauderdale for the past year... just to be together!

Here's the 'bride to be' walking down the aisle collecting roses and congratulations from passengers and crew after saying yes to her in-flight proposal.

What entertainment!... Better than watching a movie! Do they still show movies on planes or did that disappear with free meals?

Speaking of meals, we had some good ones once we landed... upscale French, authentic Italian, classic American. Besides tasting good, the prices were crazy good too!... early bird specials (full-sized meals at reduced prices) and 2 for 1's (two meals for the price of one)!

Here's my down-home favorite... the Moonlite Diner.

I could eat there day and night, which obviously we did. Besides the super-friendly staff, really good food, milkshakes to die for, they had vending machines filled with plastic toys!

Here are some little Domos I got for 25 cents apiece. Cheap thrills... a quarter in the slot and turn... even the colorful capsules are cute. The xylophone caught my eye while shopping for bottled water at Publix, the local supermarket. For a teeny toy, the small sound is surprisingly good.

For big sound... we attended a four-hour musical event with two films and a lecture at the main branch of the Fort Lauderdale Library... a library with its own theater and a budget to produce a free six-week series focusing on great American musical genres. Our genre, the last in the series, was from Mambo to Hip Hop with performances by Miguelangel Estampa, 'Flamenca: Music of Cuba and Rumba Flamenca' and a Hip Hop performance by VerseWon.

At least once, I'd like to be in Florida during the annual International art exhibitions of Art Miami and Art Basel. Unfortunately, during this visit, all the museums were closed in preparation for these upcoming events, but to our surprise, the Wynwood Walls and nearby galleries in Miami were open.

Here's a bit of what we saw...

Here's some street art from the surrounding Wynwood area. For more about the Wynwood Walls go here and for their website go here.

Here's work from a couple of Wynwood galleries. The first two pieces are by Fedrico Uribe from his installation at the Now Contemporary Art Gallery. For a video by Uribe go here.

These two works are by Carlito Dalceggio shown at the Ricart Gallery Miami. Mickey was in the gallery while Pinocchio was on the building's rooftop. The making of an installation by Dalceggio here and an article about him in the Miami New Times here.

What we didn't get to see was the ocean... never walked the beach, never collected seashells or colored, polished glass. We ran out of time. Besides, we weren't on vacation. We were here to spend time with my mother, who resides in Florida.

So when we weren't all running around eating and doing a few cultural events, we were busy with mom and her new iPad, a gift we gave her. For someone with no computer skills, my mom is sharp!... both smart and youthful beyond her years. She can now download apps, email, use the internet, take photos, read newspapers online, play Scrabble and win, and decipher an iPad manual!

Here's a photo of mom's condo pool taken with her iPad.

Here's a photo of our pool at the Westin Hotel, Cypress Creek, taken with my camera moments before heading to the airport on our way home.

Goodbye palm trees... hello home... and time for poetry!

Welcome Home

Welcome home

to all things familiar

of walls and doors,

tables and chairs, beds and drawers

easily navigated

with eyes closed.

Welcome home

to the absence

of heartbeats

and the presence

of objects

still standing

where you left them.

Welcome home

to the place

that knows

your name,

supports, comforts and sustains you,

and beams, creaks and brightens

with your every return.

Welcome Home!

Safe travels and may all your returns be welcomed.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

XOX... Dyan

Travel: To & From Florida... Part 1

My mind is full of swaying palm trees

landscapes cloaked in pink and aquamarine

of glistening pools

and sun-kissed people

wading 

as thunderous clouds

clamor over Miami

No time for poetry. I need to pack.

Soon, we'll be on a plane to Florida. Until then, there are clothes and sundries to buy, plane and train tickets to purchase, reservations to be made, bills to be paid, mail to be held, security arranged, laundry to sort, and before Thanksgiving, luggage to stuff.

Have I told you how much I hate packing?... or should I say 'over packing'!

Luggage should come with a manual or at least tags with warnings like... 'Filling this suitcase with everything you imagine may create emotional distress when trying to lift and transport it to an airport'.

Experienced during the 'Meltdown of 1990', just hours before departing on a month-long trip to Europe when I couldn't pry my packed suitcase from the bed.

Or this one... 'Failure to remove batteries from appliances before closing luggage and boarding a plane may result in arrest and imprisonment'.

Terrified, I once watched my husband escorted from a plane ready for takeoff and made to open his suitcase that had been extracted from cargo and placed on the runway. Note: Ticking travel clocks will be identified as bombs waiting to detonate.

Whoever said "Success is a journey, not a destination - half the fun is getting there" hasn't traveled with me, been frisked by guards with guns, had the contents of her backback emptied, scrutinized, and cameras disassembled because she fit the daily profile of a terrorist.... that would be me.

And the boredom of hours spent killing time in terminals and other security regulations: the removal of belts, shoes or metal objects from pockets, the search and seizure of necessary items like nail clippers, scissors, tweezers, liquids more than a few ounces, and those scanners rendering you naked as if you haven't already been stripped of your privacy before purchasing your tickets.

And fear... fear of flying 30,000 feet above solid ground, of confinement and tight spaces elbow to elbow with strangers, people sneezing behind you, the lack of fresh air, turbulence, and what to do with those inflatable lifejackets stored under your seat.

It's the price we pay to be with family.

Until the world is safe again or teleportation is perfected, we do what we can...

Safe Travels

and to all of America

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

'Here and Next'... Travel: To & From Florida, Part 2... coming soon!

XOX...Dyan

Knock, Knock & Stuff We Own

Knock, Knock.

Someone's knocking at my door.

"Who is it?" I question... but say nothing.

UPS never knocks, just throws packages on the porch with a thud. It's too early for political canvassing, too late for soliciting to change electric companies, Jehovah Witnesses don't come calling on weekdays, and friends always phone first.

Whoever it is and whatever they want, I pretend no one is home.

Before I can say, "Good, they're gone", another single knock... soft, hesitant, as if made by a child, only someone smaller, more skittish and with a bushy tail.

Why would a squirrel with a green apple shoved in her mouth be knocking on my door? I have no clue, but she's sitting near my feet with her pointy face looking up at me as if to say... "Trick or Treat!"

Perhaps she's paying me a visit as a kind of peace offering for chewing the telephone wires leaving us without service for days. Yes, we still have a landline. Or maybe she's here to apologize for knocking over the bird feeders and spewing sunflower seeds all over the yard.

"All of nature talks to me. If I could just figure out what it was trying to tell me."... lyrics to 'Sharkey's Day' by Laurie Anderson.

No matter, one look at me, and my furry friend is off, no message, just a small green semi-rotten apple left on my doorstep.

Make that 'apples'... plural. I now have a collection of her fruit all over the porch. Thank you very much, but I have my own collection of stuff inside the house.

People are a lot like squirrels... always on the move, always in a hurry, always accumulating stuff we think we need or want. And we bury our possessions, maybe not in the ground, but in boxes, bins, closets, drawers and sometimes storage units. Then, when we've forgotten where we've put our things, in desperation, or because we can or want, we search for new stuff.

Whoever said, "You are what you eat" missed the plate.

"We are what we own" and what we own, sometimes owns us!

I own mostly inexpensive things preferring paper and plastic to diamonds and gold.

Plastic jewelry, toys, even oddities like tags off of bread bags and little hangers from packaged socks.  Boxes and boxes that hold paper: books, written material, photocopied articles, personal journals, letters / cards, and scratchy handwritten notes that become cryptic over time... paper and plastic with unlimited potential.

Paul Rand in his book, 'Paul Rand: A Designer's Art', when discussing 'Ideas about Ideas' says, "The artist is a collection of things imaginary or real. He accumulates things with the same enthusiasm that a little boy stuffs his pockets. The scrap heap and the museum are embraced with equal curiosity. He takes snapshots, makes notes, records impressions on tablecloths or newspapers and the backs of envelopes or matchbooks. Why one thing and not another is part of the mystery, but he is omnivorous... Without the harvest of visual experience, he would be unable to cope with the plethora of problems, mundane or otherwise, that confront him in his daily work."

Artist or not, we all long to thrive, not just survive, and the things we own are the substances that define us.

Michael Johansson

If objects could talk, I guess mine might say that I'm practical yet quirky, a pursuant of ideas with a strong desire to transform them.

Which doesn't excuse the pile of clutter surrounding me now.

Anais Nin once said, "When I cannot bear outer pressures anymore, I begin to put order in my belongings... As if unable to organize and control my life, I seek to exert this on the world of objects"... my sentiments exactly.

Thankfully, I am not a hoarder. As much as I love collecting things that may or may not have significance, I also get great pleasure and comfort from creating order from chaos, paring down, and sifting through things I've acquired.

Like this horoscope written by Rob Brezsny, which reads..."Right now your life may seem like a loose tangle of disparate threads. But this is merely an illusion designed by God to rouse your passion to create harmony and unity. The proper response to the scattered vibes, then, is not to mourn but to organize... Don't be a slave to the things you control... Greater personal power will flow to you as a result of the thoughtful surrender... A surprise gift will arrive after you give up a supposed asset you don't really need or use."

Having gained knowledge from this horoscope while in full declutter mode, I shred the paper it's written on and take a break. I decide to get some fresh air and capture my squirrel friend with my camera. 

Instead, I find this on the ground at the end of the driveway.

Who loses a bra and doesn't notice it missing?... especially one that's hot pink!

It is a surprise, but hopefully not 'my' surprise for getting rid of a few possessions.

I leave the bra as I find it and a few hours later it's gone.

Perhaps back on some small-breasted woman or lining a sexy squirrel's nest.

Sugar Bush Squirrel

One man's trash is another man's / squirrel's treasure, if we can just figure out where to put it all.

Do you wrestle with clutter or do you have a place for everything and everything in its place?

What sorts of objects do you gravitate towards and what do they say about You?

Here are a few links you might find interesting:

'Recycling in Style', a short video on Michael Johansson here and some of his exterior installations here.

Laurie Anderson's music video  'Sharkey's Day' here.

Sugar Bush: The World's Most Photographed Squirrel here.

'Things Organized Neatly' here.

A written piece on Philadelphia's Dumpster Divers here and a short video here.

How Clutter affects you and what you can do about it here.

Squirrel to 'Here and Next'

Knock, Knock

Who's there?

Leaf

Leaf who?

Leaf me alone I'm too busy collecting rotten apples.

 XOX... Dyan

Loaves & Fishes

Michael and I shop or do take-out almost every day for lunch or dinner.

If we purchase groceries too far in advance, food gets wasted, or worse, we risk getting sick.

Things either rest safely inside our freezer forever hidden among the bits of frozen bread and bags of frozen vegetables in 'the land that time forgot' or are kept in the refrigerator, stored appropriately in plastic or glass containers, often without labels and 'sell by' dates. Or what we do have that's fresh and ready to eat, by mealtime no longer appeals to us.

So we shop or do take-out almost every day for lunch or dinner.

When shopping for groceries, we either wander the aisles looking for ideas, clueless about what to eat, or know exactly what we crave and dart between carts and customers at record speed as if on a mission... grab 'n go'.

Today we're in Whole Foods on such a mission.

There's a pound of antibiotic free, hormone free, ground beef sitting in our refrigerator ready to turn green if not cooked today or by the latest tomorrow. If we can locate a jar of mild 'Liberty City Chili', some homemade cornbread and a small container of 365 Organic Plain Greek Style Yogurt, nonfat and less calories than sour cream and just as good, we'll be home free... Mission Accomplished!

But there are no jars of 'MILD' chili anywhere... just 'HOT'... cough, cough.

Busted we move to Plan B: Burgers.

We head to the bread aisle for a bag of ultra soft mini potato buns, but we're told they are all sold out. A new shipment will be in tomorrow, but tomorrow doesn't help today.

So we carry on with Plan C: Cheese

Well not just cheese. Since we already have the ground beef and plenty of boxes of De Cecco Thin Spaghetti no. 11 at home, we're hoping to pick up some grated Parmesan cheese and butter beans from the olive bar to compliment a meal of spaghetti and meatballs. So what are the odds of nabbing these two items today? Apparently, 0:0, zip, nada, giant goose egg, zero! Okay, so neither the cheese nor the beans are crucial to the dish, but hey... we weren't exactly married to the idea of pasta in the first place.

So in a last ditch effort it's Plan: D

Dump the ground beef for one more night and go with... whatever!

Only 'whatever' isn't making itself known to us.

'Mission Impossible' is now 'Mission Aborted'.

Defeated, we decide to head home where Michael will do magic with leftovers and I'll have a bowl of Trader Joe's High Fiber Cereal and Organic Valley Lactose Free, Fat Free Milk or some 365 Brand standards, Organic Salt-Free Peanut Butter and Organic Strawberry Conserve on Unsalted Saltine Crackers, my go to food by default.

But just as we're ready to leave...

I spot a stack of baguettes on the counter in the bakery department... and they're warm! Fresh from the oven!

Most unusual as most of the French and Italian loaves of bread are kept at room temperature... cold, stored upright in vertical bins, hard and crusty on the outside, sometimes just as hard and crusty on the inside. Not today and probably never again, will these loaves ever be as wonderful.

I grab some goat cheese and a jar of fig preserves both in eye shot while Michael chooses Seaside Cheddar (cheese from England) and then takes off for organic produce.

I find him in the seafood department waiting for some salmon to accompany his intended side dish of melted cheese on toast topped with spinach and tomatoes.

I stand next to him in front of bins packed with ice that hold whole fish... the shimmery silver kind with heads, bodies, tails, intact and sad eyes that appear glazed.

Fish doesn't appeal to me, but they sure are mesmerizing this little seven-year-old boy, who managed to wedge himself between the bins and me. Instantly, I'm reminded of Walker Evans, his photograph titled: "Roadside Stand Near Birmingham, Alabama" and his words:

"Stare. It is the way to educate your eye, and more. Stare, pry, listen, eavesdrop. Die knowing something. You are not here long."

"Roadside Stand Near Birmingham, Alabama" by Walker Evans

Staring long and hard, the boy turns to his father and quietly asks, "Daddy, can I have fish for dinner?... some Tilapia?" You could tell dad was proud. Hey, a boy who knows fish by name and knows how to eat healthy, I'm impressed. But not so impressed when the boy's younger sister, sitting in a cart, shouts out for the entire Baederwood Shopping Center to hear... "DADDY! I WANT McDONALDS!!"

"Maybe she'll order the Filet-O-Fish," I say encouragingly, while 'Fat Chance' is written all over dad's face.

I was raised on McDonalds... McDonalds and Swanson TV dinners.

Truth is... our family didn't have money to burn.

My father's mantra was either..."HOW MUCH does that cost??" or "What do you need that for?" Either way, his words always managed to kill my desire to buy anything. On the flip-side, when it came to food, my dad was a VERY generous man.

On weekends, he'd go to Waldbaums for fresh bagels, lox and whitefish. Then stop at Bambi's Bakery for a box of assorted pastries: jelly-filled powdered donuts, bear claws, and Danish topped with fruit or filled with cheese. This was breakfast.

For dinner, he'd drive the distance to Zorn's for a large bucket of the best ever fried chicken and containers full of potato salad and coleslaw. On special occasions, we'd go to a restaurant, Italian or Chinese, where my brother would deliberately order the most expensive item on the menu, making my dad cringe without any comment.

During the week, meals consisted of take-out hamburgers and fries from McDonalds, TV dinners baked in the oven, or food prepared by my mother, usually frozen minute steaks, directly from the freezer into the broiler, twenty minutes on each side and a side of potatoes.

  

Other than potatoes, I don't recall eating vegetables or cooked fish, but what kid would remember except maybe the seven-year-old at Whole Foods Market.

I think it made my dad happy to be able to provide for us and put food on the table, something I still appreciate to this day.

My dad retired early. I'm glad he did. He lived a brief life of just 57 years.

In the book I'm reading by Tom Shadyac, 'Life's Operating Manual: With the Fear and Truth Dialogues', which asks what's wrong with the world and what can we do about it, there's an interesting parable about a man who lived in a cottage by the sea... 

Every morning the man went fishing and caught just enough fish for the day. Afterward, he would spend time playing with his son, take a siesta, and enjoy lunch with his family. In the evening, he and his wife would meet friends at a local bar, and they'd tell stories, play music and dance the night away.

One day a tourist saw the fisherman and his meager catch and asked, "Why do you only catch 3 or 4 fish?"

"That's all my family needs for today," the  fisherman replied.

But the tourist had gone to business school and could not help but offer advice: "You know if you catch a few more fish and sell them at the market, you could make some extra money."

"Why would I want to do that?" the fisherman asked.

"With the extra money you could save up and buy a boat. Then you could catch even more fish and make even more money, which you could use to buy an entire fleet of boats!"

"Why do I need so many boats?" queried the fisherman.

"Don't you see? With a fleet of boats, you could sell more fish and with the extra money, you could move to New York, run an international business and sell fish all over the world!"

"And how long would this take?" the fisherman asked.

"Maybe 10 or 20 years" the businessman said.

"Then what?" The fisherman said.

"Then you could sell your company for millions, retire, buy a cottage by the sea, go fishing every morning, take a siesta every afternoon, enjoy lunch with your family and spend evenings with friends, playing music and dancing!"

For now, Michael and I shop or do take-out almost every day for lunch or dinner. Other times we enjoy dining in restaurants.

Food is a necessity. For some, it can also be a luxury and a pleasure. From food stamps to four-star establishments, we've lived both lives.

Sometimes life is easy, sometimes hard, sometimes profound and sometimes straightforward like ... a jar of 'MILD' chili... temporarily unattainable.

~ May food always be readily available to you and plentiful on your table ~

What are some of your favorite foods, food routines or dining experiences?

Here are a few links you might find interesting:

"Loaves and Fishes" a poem by one of my favorite poets David Whyte here.

'Big Appetites' by artist Christopher Boffoli viewed here.

'Cheese Portraits' by artist and friend Mike Geno here and an article about him titled: "Like the Mona Lisa, but on a Cracker" here.

A short written history of the TV Dinner here, with a short video version here and a British take on it here.

Cool Food Facts here.

Here's to Those Who Make a Difference.

Philabundance

Our favorite non-profit organization whose 'Mission' is to 

'reduce hunger and food insecurity in the Delaware Valley

by providing food access to people in need,

in partnership with organizations and individuals'.

A brief behind-the-scenes look at Philabundance here.

XOX... Dyan