A pro-football fan or enthusiast I am not in the least, but favorites from CFB keep popping up here and there, and he was one.
Up at four-thirty, shrimp boat plying StAndrewsBay for the squiggly things, often reminds me of the dawn knock at the rectory door in the nineteen eighties and nineties, a parishioner’s son who was a shrimper not an oysterman offering me the chance to buy some of his overnight catch, ice chests of delectable creatures with their feet still running along the bottom of Apalachicola Bay. It don’t git no fresher, that and mullet still flopping.
So what then. A 1931 Chrysler sedan and a 1933 Buick victoria coupe. What do they have to do with anything? Depends on where the heart is, I reckon.