Little could be more exciting than wake up as the leading edge of a “severe t-storm” rages across StAndrewsBay and through town. My only surpassing such was at HighHeaven, 15th floor, I looked it up: Tuesday, October 14, 2014, storm seemingly as violent as standing inside a tornado. HighHeaven sold us on 7H, and here we are.
In his program years ago 25? a lawyer in our Rotary Club at Apalachicola briefed us on the progressively tyrannical administrative federalism enslaving Americans. No political radical, I’d never thought of it until that moment, but have never stopped noticing it since. No p.c. radical either, neither way, left nor right, I nevertheless notice and increasingly hate (yep) the vigorous little dictatorships in Washington going after the Redskins, use of restrooms in public schools, lying Justice Department lawyers; and incomprehensibly extreme stupidity during the Bush era, tour guides in some national parks forbidden to discuss the geologic age of park features because the earth is actually only five thousand years old. It isn't just the Blues or the Reds, it’s wherever there is human power and whoever has it. Sadly, I wonder if in twenty years one will fear speaking against the President-for-Life, males wearing a DonaldT-Cut lest there come a knock on the door. All the symptoms are the same, populist politician taking advantage of popular disenchantment and anger. Yet at the same time, I fear a continuation of the sickeningly hesitant war strategy of the opposition. Whoever is elected in November, I'm moving to the moon for the next eight years.
But then I’m a holy man, not a rabble-rouser, n.v?
We don’t walk during t-storms, so breakfast on my 7H porch. Still raining, cool breeze, eggs over-medium on dry, thin wheat toast. Eggs cooked in an old-fashioned black iron skillet. Before moving in here, we changed two features of the condo: new, chair-height toilets; and replace all kitchen appliances, old range with a new to us induction range: the frying pan is instantly hot, but magnetism-based induction technology requires iron pots and pans, no stainless, aluminum, copper. And as ever, the old ways are best: mama’s black cast iron skillets.
Exciting here. TJCC coming this evening. One of them doesn’t realize that 44 years old, she’s still and always Daddy’s girl.
Small container vessel arriving from Progresso in light rain as I type. Larger ship in last night after sunset, superstructure and bridge at the bow. Thunder still, not so distant, to the south and east of me.
Pelicans flying home last evening, a single row of them, just above the water. Linda counted 39 birds in the string.
In my next life I may be a pelican. I sure as hell won’t be a human again, but if I am I will be Anthony Bourdain.