ALL THAT GLITTERS … MIGHT BE GOLD!

October 13, 2025 by 11 Comments

Two circles of my life have intersected like a Venn Diagram. The life of the retired senior who drives an aging Mini and tends to hold on to things “just in case” has overlapped with the life of the person who writes operations manuals for franchise companies. I don’t feel the need for a haircut when I write for a salon, nor the urge for a hamburger when I write for a restaurant, but the decluttering manuals were a call to action!

As I looked at the boxes that hadn’t been opened in years, including some with our parents and even our grandparents’ belongings, I realized that it wasn’t fair to leave three generations of “stuff” for our children to deal with.  And who knew what treasure might be hiding in those boxes that they wouldn’t recognize as “valuable.” Tracy McCubbin’s book Making Space: Clutter Free became my action plan! It was fun to read, and she didn’t make me feel guilty about keeping boxes labeled “Cyndee’s High School Memorabilia” or “Perk’s Navy Papers.”

THE GREAT PURGE

Perk and I started with the garage where we had golf clubs in cracked vinyl bags (we haven’t played golf in over thirty years), electric hedge trimmers (we live in a condo), empty boxes that we might need just in case we dropped Amazon Prime (highly unlikely). We purged, and we threw away, and we decluttered, and suddenly we had open shelving and empty storage bins! The good news was that we found no creepy-crawlies. The bad news was that we found no treasure.

A few weeks later, we tackled our walk-in closet. When was I going to wear a size Small beach coverup that I bought in Manzanillo thirty-five years ago? How many Hudson Bay blankets does one need in Florida?  Why was there a bin of Christmas stocking stuffers that no one wanted? We found blank checks from accounts closed years ago and a bin of 3.5 floppy discs with unknown data, but nothing of value. Going, going, gone!

We progressed through the linen closet, kitchen cupboards, shelves of books and games until the latest effort – my jewelry boxes filled with items that I no longer wear in this retired, casual, senior lifestyle.

PAY DIRT!

The price of gold has shot through the roof into the condo above us! Gold buyers throughout Florida distribute flyers and set up shop in local hotels to buy cast-off jewelry. Ads to sell gold pop up on social media feeds. Even celebrities hawk “cash in your gold” on local TV.

But how to declutter jewelry boxes? I decided to start with McCubbin’s first question: WHY are you keeping this? And then I added, WHAT are you going to do with it?

Should I keep the jewelry? Should I sell it as scrap?

I separated my jewelry into four groups:

  1. Jewelry with sentimental value that is priceless- literally
  2. Jewelry that I rarely wear, and might be willing to part with
  3. Jewelry that has no sentimental value, and if it’s worth its weight in gold, then it’s on the block!
  4. Jewelry that should go to a thrift store for a Halloween costume … or into the trash

I took groups two and three to Amore Jewelers in Bonita Springs. Bill Skidmore spent an hour helping me understand why certain pieces of jewelry had value and why I might NOT want to sell them. What was their history? Would I regret letting them go? What would I do with the gems if I sold the gold settings? By the end of the hour, I had several items to keep, and we had discarded a few costume pieces. Bill had a small pile of 14 karat gold jewelry and a small pile of 22 karat gold jewelry that he weighed separately; and those two small piles of glittering gold jewelry that I cared nothing about … turned out to be worth a surprising amount of money! Treasure indeed!!

A CHARMED LIFE

A gold charm bracelet, the first gift Perk ever gave me, was in group one – priceless. The first charm was a mortarboard celebrating our college graduation, followed by an engagement ring charm, a wedding disk, a trinacria from Sicily, children’s births, an abacus, a cartouche, a kangaroo — golden mementos of a lifetime together. I haven’t worn the bracelet in decades. It snags my clothes, disturbs other concert goers, and dangles too close to candle flames when we’re dining out.

I was keeping the bracelet, but what was I going to do with it? I wanted to share the memories, not let them grow even older in a jewelry box. And I came up with the perfect solution!

Bill removed the charms from the bracelet, restored them to their original glow, and secured the loops so that I could string the charms together on a golden chain of embroidery floss. I looped the garland through the lighted branches of a tabletop birch tree so the memories glimmer like dangling holiday ornaments. And I made a booklet recording each charm and its story for our children and grandchildren to read, should they ever be interested.

Unlike my mother’s Murano glass swan, great-grandmother’s Limoges china, and the wax records of my teenage aunts singing “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” in 1943, our children will not look at the charm bracelet one day and say with exasperation, “What should we do with this!?” They can divvy up the charms of their own memories, put them back on the bracelet, or sell them for glittering scrap gold …

The moral of this story is, if you’re going to look for treasure while you’re decluttering your home, start small. Forget the garage. Forget the walk-in closets. Go straight to the jewelry boxes!

Filed Under: "Aging Process", Life in Florida, Retirement Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

AI KEEPS US ADORABLE

September 19, 2025 by 11 Comments

Nearly twenty years ago during a veritable monsoon in Houston, I drove our VW convertible through a puddle that turned out to be a pond. Water surged over the hood of the car which chug … chug…ged to a slow halt. I waded knee-deep to the curb where a sympathetic neighbor brought me an umbrella.

When I received a call from the repair shop, “Cody” sorrowfully reported that the car was totaled. Totaled? Our fun little convertible? I sputtered, “Can’t you do something? It wasn’t salt water. It was rainwater; my mother used to wash her hair in rainwater! It can’t hurt anything! Can’t you just dry out the sparkplugs with a hairdryer? What’s the big deal?” After a moment of silence, Cody drawled, “No disrespect, Ma’am, but just how old are you?”

When I didn’t reply, he explained patiently, “It’s the electronics, Ma’am. They got wet and they’re done for – like if you dropped your computer into the bathtub. Better check out your insurance.”

Young at Heart

Luckily the convertible was a second car, so we weren’t in a hurry to replace it. We finally chose a pearl white Mini Cooper S with a blue top and blue leather upholstery; it had all the “bells and whistles” of 2006 – cruise control and two side beepers if you came too close to another car when parking. Backup cameras, lane control devices, automatic brakes were Marty McFly accessories of the future. The car was small enough that our Texas friends could toss it onto the bed of one of their pickups if we ever ran into trouble!

Because the Mini was marketed to younger people and most Texans preferred oversized powerful vehicles, Perk and I often received surprised looks as we scooted through the traffic of Houston with the top down, driving it through the Texas Hill Country, going on jaunts to see fossilized dinosaur tracks in riverbeds and photographing the fields of blue bonnets. We felt young and carefree in the Mini. One day as we stopped at a red light, a pickup truck full of teenage boys sped by. One leaned out of the back of the truck and shouted, “Hey! Your car matches the color of your hair!!” And they were right, of course!

One evening when we were getting into the Mini, two couples in their thirties crossed the parking lot to ask about it. We were enthusiastic about the mileage, how fun it was to drive, that it had a low center of gravity and hugged the curves in the Hill Country, how we could squeeze into parking lots that were supposedly full.  As they walked away toward their pickups, we heard one of the women say, “Aren’t they adorable?”  Oops! Again we realized that although the car made us feel young, we didn’t look that way!

Retired, but Not Tired

A Mini is rarely seen in southwest Florida because it’s not comfortable for retired senior citizens: it’s hot to drive it with the top down, it’s difficult to get in and out of as your muscles tighten and your bones creak with age, mature women don’t like their hair blowing in the wind and mature men don’t want their bald heads to sunburn. But Perk and I refuse to give in. We’re young at heart and we’re driving a car that proves it!

We were in the technology education business and, hairdryers and sparkplugs aside, we have embraced the new technologies. I love all the safety features on the new cars. I love my smart phone, my tablet, my camera, my Kindle, my computer and its oversized monitor. And with retirement, I have had time to embrace all of them. When AI and Chat GPT became easily available, I was an enthusiastic adopter. I have used it for such diverse tasks as planning menus for friends who have chronic kidney failure, experimenting with apartment decor, valuing antiques, and troubleshooting why my oven quit working. AI is Alexa or Siri on steroids!

Got Gas?

No, I’m not resorting to a flatulence joke. A few weeks ago we opened the Mini’s garage and smelled gasoline! We hastily called REA Automotive owned by our favorite mechanic. Ryan has maintained the Mini for twelve years and the aging car is his joy almost as much as it is ours – after nearly 20 years, the engine still purrs and the car accelerates as if it just came off the showroom floor.

He ran tests for five days – every possible check from the EVAP hoses and charcoal canister to UV fluorescent dye detection. No test revealed a gas leak, but he could smell it. The leak was there – somewhere. At last Ryan called a “family council.” We sat in his office, mourning the next step. (It made me think of our children sometime in the future, trying to decide what to do with us!) Ryan advised taking the Mini to the dealership to sell it for parts because we didn’t want to endanger someone by selling it to them to drive. We reluctantly concurred.

Chat GPT: The New Anti-Aging Solution

But when we got home, Perk declared, “Let’s not give up. The Mini is US. It’s old, but fun to have around occasionally – just like we are! I’m going to ask Chat GPT.”

Opening the AI function he wrote, “What could cause a gas leak in a 2006 Mini Cooper S with 76,000 miles on it?” Within seconds, Chat GPT replied with a lengthy list of possible causes – all of which Ryan had already investigated. Until the very last one: a miniscule hairline crack in a part that could only be discovered by removing the back seat of the car and using a floodlamp.

And there Ryan found it. And fixed it.

And here we are, thanks to AI, driving the Mini with its top down, our white hair blowing in the breeze, and of course, still adorable!

Filed Under: "Aging Process", Life in Florida, Retirement, technology Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

TO SEE OR NOT TO SEE

August 7, 2025 by 25 Comments

Because I was a dutiful fourth-grade student, my desk was at the back of the classroom – sixth seat in the row of six wooden desks with cast-iron legs. Bobby Arnold sat in front of me in the fifth seat. The troublemakers, of course, sat in the front of the room close to Mrs. Boomgarden’s desk and her ever-watchful eye.

One fateful morning, Mrs. Boomgarden had written our six-week math test on the blackboard at the front of the room. The test was hidden behind the pull-down map of the world and the pull-down map of the US; their cords swung ominously marking time as she paced in front of them giving the test directions. We had 30 minutes to copy and complete the problems. Blank papers and sharpened pencils lay on our desks; there would be no excuse to leave our seats during the test (and possibly sneak a peek at a neighbor’s work). She yanked the cords. With a crack like a starting gun, the maps snapped up and the test began!

After thirty minutes, Mrs. Boomgarden called “Time,” and started to collect the papers. When she came to me, she asked suspiciously, “Why aren’t you done?” And my reply of “I had to wait for Bobby to finish and give me his glasses so I could see the board” opened a new world! I was marched to the nurse’s office, told to read the eyechart (I could see the big “E”), and my parents were called.

The Eyes Have It

The snow was gusting across South Dakota as my father drove me to the ophthalmologist’s office, grumbling that this was a waste of time – he could see perfectly, my mother could see perfectly, and I always had my nose in a book, so obviously I could see perfectly. “No kid of mine needs glasses!” he fumed as we slipped and slid on the icy roads which made him even more grumpy. He sat in a chair behind me during the eye test, rigidly annoyed, but as the tests went on, he occasionally murmured incredulously, “You can’t see that?” And when the tests were over, his eyes teared as he said, “Why didn’t you tell us you need glasses!” Because I thought everyone saw the world through a gauzy curtain… except, of course, for Bobby Arnold!

And so began my visual odyssey – from the expensive clear plastic frames my father agreed to buy and that I hoped no one would notice, to my first pair of contact lens that were so big they covered most of my eyeballs, to losing one of my lens in the silk folds of my wedding dress as my father prepared to escort me down the aisle – and at last to yesterday’s astonishing result of having the first of my two cataracts removed!

Everyone assured me that my life would change. I was sure they were right, but I worried about HOW my life would change! I love my life! I play tennis, I write and edit franchise manuals, I take photos for wall art, I devour books – what if something goes wrong? One slip of the knife, of the laser, and my life would change irrevocably! But I reluctantly agreed … because I really needed to see better if I were going to continue playing tennis, writing, taking pictures, reading…

The surgery was painless, in and out of the office in a couple of hours, instructions received, eye-drops provided, and I went home to take a nap.

Rinso White! Rinso Bright! Happy Little Washday Song!

Yes, I am a Boomer. As a child I grew up listening to the radio with jolly commercial jingles.

“I’d walk a mile for a mild, mild Camel. They’re so mild, they suit me to a T’.”

“Double your pleasure, Double your fun, Doublemint, Doublemint, Doublemint Gum!”

And today I am living the Rinso commercial, complete with the before/after laundry detergent effect!

When I look out of my left eye with good vision provided by my contact lens, I see everything with a yellow, murky overtone caused by a cataract – the Before Rinso Look. When I look out of my new right eye, everything is dazzling and bright – like Rinso-washed laundry hanging on a clothesline in the sun!

The eyesight with the new lens is everything that everyone promised – clear, bright, and much better than the vision I was born with!

But the new brightness and improved vision did not come without a cost! I had been warned that I would suddenly be aware of dust bunnies lurking in corners, smudges on windows, and shocking facial wrinkles. Happily my house is cleaner than I thought and the once-creamy walls are still the gallery white I prefer. But then, I looked into the mirror … and instead of seeing a face with wrinkles softened by obscuring cataracts, I saw myself in a new light – literally!

Have a Good Day, Honey

No wonder salespeople tend to call me “Dear”, and strangers offer to lift my bag into the overhead compartment on a plane. Even though I can run around on the tennis court like the Energizer Bunny, I look really OLD! After I finished gasping at my reflection, I decided to face the facts; my mother had a ton of wrinkles, my grandmother had wrinkles, and my great-grandmother had wrinkles. No amount of Ponds Vanishing Cream was going to take mine away. Temporarily mitigate? Maybe. But genes are genes, after all.

Yet now I wonder – could there be future lens implants with facial softening software, like my phone app? Even if I couldn’t fool you IRL, at least I could go back to fooling myself!

Filed Under: Life in Florida Tagged With: , , , , , , ,

GRANDMA MOSES and ME

October 6, 2024 by 5 Comments

I’m not quite sure what I thought “retirement” was going to be, but I lasted six weeks! Reading my previous blogs has made me realize that I thought I was ready to enjoy endless days of bonbons, reading novels, being amused by the police reports of a retirement community and watching nature.

But in truth, how many times can you watch a rabbit hopping through your hedge? After a few weeks, even an early morning bobcat prowling the backyard or a 6-foot invasive iguana on the other side of the creek didn’t get my blood racing.

I dug out my racquet and headed to the community tennis facility to take up the sport again after thirty+ years. The pro took my racquet and asked, “Did you ever ski?”

Not knowing where this was going, I replied, “Not recently.”

He continued, “Were you ever in a ski lodge?” Yes.

“Did you ever notice what was above the fireplace in the lodge?” Old skis.

He handed the racquet back. “Do you have a fireplace?”

I loved his humor and got the message that I should upgrade my equipment! So I bought a new racquet and joined a tennis team.

Weeks later, my body was moving, but my brain was getting mushy. I could guess “who done it,” after the 3rd or 4th chapter in a book. I contacted a friend, who called a friend who offered me a job as a contract writer for FranWise, a company that produces manuals for franchised businesses.

I absolutely love my job! It combines my love of language, my experience in franchising, and my desire to learn about new things. (It also keeps me from foraging in the refrigerator!) I have explored diverse business concepts, ranging from QSR (I used to call it “Fast Food,” but it’s now “Quick Service Restaurants”) to eyelash salons. I have flirted with AI. I’ve learned to write in gender-neutral pronouns, although I admit that it’s tough to type “They is…”

But even with tennis and contract writing, I still had way too much extra time. When Perk and I went on a tour to China in 1979 (our only organized tour), he was the photographer. I was the pack mule carrying lenses, film, filters, and tripods. On that trip we learned that we see different things, and I drove him nuts saying, “ Did you get that? … Oh, take that picture! … Oh, no, you missed the shot of the baby in the embroidered jacket!” I was so annoying that one of the other travelers said, in a snide voice, “Did you ever think of getting your own camera?”

Thirty+ years later,  I got a great camera. I have learned that I love photography far beyond “recording the event.” I love seeing what others don’t see, looking for new angles, catching the light, and creating new art by combining elements of several photos. I have them printed on canvas, giving the pictures the look of paintings.

I often tilt over a pier to get an aerial view of a heron fishing in the shallows below; people step over me as I lie on the path photographing a lotus dewy in the morning light, or frown as I sneak too near an alligator sunning on the shore or a horned owl standing sentinel on the creekbank.

I’m thinking of renaming this blog “Pictures, Predicaments, and Perk,” because he’s the one who holds my camera bag and extra batteries, grabs my shirttail when I lean too far over the rail, and hoists me to my feet when I’ve been lying near a lotus pond.

But the best news is that a fun retirement hobby has turned into a mini-business! I’ve won a couple of prizes in a local art show, and have sold several pieces of large custom wall art. I’m the Grandma Moses of Photography!!

Click here to see some of the photos that I love most!

Filed Under: Life in Florida, Photography, Travel Adventures, Travel Tips Tagged With: , ,

A WALK ON THE WILD SIDE

October 1, 2014 by 4 Comments

Leopard Correct 2

Leopard at Mala Mala

Nature has never been “my thing.” I’m more in tune with books and technology – a Kindle freak and a camera junkie. Our kids had the usual assortment of pets – from dogs and cats to rabbits and hamsters. Our family frequented zoos, of course, and even took a photographic safari to Mala Mala in Africa, but actually seeking out animals in the wild on my own was absolutely foreign to me. The closest I ever came to nature was when a wood duck plummeted down our fireplace chimney in Minnesota and had to be rescued.

Eventually we moved to Texas and I was forced to confront nature in the raw. When a wolf spider the size of my fist decided to explore my VW convertible, I exploded from the car screaming, “Ragno, Ragno –Aiuto! Aiuto!” I couldn’t think of “spider” or “help” in Spanish and reverted to Italian; the Hispanic groundskeepers at our office looked heavenward for spiritual succor and hastily backed away from the hysterical woman screaming in a foreign language!

At times baby copperheads slithered down the hall outside my office, fire ants found me particularly delectable, and once a Portuguese Man-o-War wrapped itself around my thigh at the Galveston beach. I learned to check out my surroundings in Texas.

But now I live in Southwest Florida. Sometimes when I sit on our lanai in the early morning, I feel as though I am channeling Walt Disney! As the sun brightens the treetops, baby bunnies and squirrels have been known to peer through the screen at me, owls hoot in the nearby nature preserve, anhingas pose on the creekbed rocks behind our condo and stretch their wings to dry. The setting is so idyllic that when I rouse myself to refill my coffee mug, I would not be surprised if bluebirds tied an apron around my waist and told Cinderella to get to work!

Not HONY, but AOSWF

Having lived mostly in “the North,” I am enamored by the Animals of Southwest Florida. My camera (a Nikon P600) has been key to helping me discover nature in detail. With its 60X optical zoom, I see things through the camera that I could never see otherwise. I love shelling at Barefoot Beach where osprey shelter their young 30 feet above me on nesting platforms.Osprey (Once a friend and I watched a young osprey learning to fly in fits and spurts; I was so mesmerized that I forgot to take pictures!) Sometimes I use the camera on my phone to photograph the shore birds as they snatch minnows and crabs in the ripples. Gopher tortoises poke their heads out of their burrows, then emerge to stroll to nearby grasses for a leisurely snack. Cranes, herons and pelicans eye fisherman and try to steal their bait.

Egrets fish and ibis grub in our back yard. Dolphins gambol in the wake of the pontoon boat ferrying us to an island beach, where even the jellyfish are Disney benign!Dolphin A couple of weeks ago, I saw the beach rangers  gently carrying platter-sized jelly fish from the shallows back into the waves. I could feel those burning man-o-war tentacles grasping my thigh as I remonstrated with the rangers – surely they should at least have gloves and shirts on their bare hands and arms! But, no, they patiently explained, these were moon jellies and not dangerous to humans.

Birds, dolphins, jellyfish were all good subjects, of course, but I was eager to photograph an alligator in the wild. Our neighbors regaled us with tales of eight foot gators sauntering down the road in front of our condo; but when pinned down, they confessed that it was five or six or maybe ten years ago – not recently. I went on lengthy walks, checked out ponds, looked in reeds for sleeping logs, but to no avail. The keepers at the Naples Zoo told us that alligators feed at night, that they were uninterested in humans unless someone had been foolish enough to feed them. Regretfully I concluded that gators were unlikely to be cruising my suburban neighborhood. I was ten years too late.

Call of the Wild

Our young grandson loves netting minnows in the creek behind our condo – hanging on to tree branches to get a longer reach into the brackish, murky water. Our son-in-law (he of intrepid driver fame in a previous blog) likes to cast for bass from the bank and has caught some big ones.

Late one afternoon I heard a call, “Cyndee, better get your camera!” I ran to the creek before the big one got away. A cast – SNAP! An unseen fish grabbed the shiny lure, then spit it back into the water! Another cast – another snap! Only this time the “fish” was visible – a log with sharp teeth, beady eyes and large nostrils. And it looked annoyed that the shiny lure was not a silvery bass!Alligator

I took lots of pictures of our creek visitor, but I confess that I am no longer quite so carefree about walking near the ponds and reeds looking for wild life in the neighborhood. I’ve photographed more gators lurking in the water and sunning themselves on the shore of the nature preserve during the day, but I remain reading my Kindle comfortably on the lanai at night. I’m still channeling Walt Disney, of course, but in the evening I’m more in tune with Peter Pan and the ticking croc, than with Cinderella and the bluebirds!

Filed Under: Life in Florida, Travel Adventures Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

NORTH TO ALASKA: Two if by Sea

September 24, 2014 by Leave a Comment

GUEST BLOGGER: DAVID RHODES

PART TWO: Two if by Sea

Disclaimer: Neither Dina nor I have ever been on a cruise (not counting the Staten Island Ferry) – and never harbored any desire to do so.

At the Whittier dock we stood in line with hundreds of other people readying to board the Coral Princess. My violently shaking right hand held my boarding pass. Canadian Customs officials eyed me suspiciously as I approached. You could read their mind – “Is it contagious?” “Should he be quarantined?” Much to my surprise the official in charge asked, “Have you ever been on a cruise before?” I answered “No” and his body language eased. Just another cruise newbie.

The Coral Princess can accommodate 1,974 passengers, has 14 decks, 1398 staterooms/suites, 9 restaurants, 4 performance spaces, numerous bars, a casino, outdoor pool, sports deck, hot tubs, an outdoor movie theatre and is 964 ft. long. It’s an ocean going hotel. As long as you have a Coral Princess ID card the world, or in this case the Coral Princess, is your oyster.Coral Princess Card

Most cruise ships stop at different ports during the day so passengers can go on day excursions and cruise to the next port at night. Excursions are a huge money-maker for cruise lines. The premise is once you have the cow, or in this case passengers, milk the heck out of them. As soon as you sign up for a cruise, information regarding various available excursions floods your in-box and doesn’t stop – whale watching, scenic train rides, glacier landings, high-speed power boat river rides, nature adventures, dog sledding, salmon fishing, visits to totem pole parks…

SkagwayOur ports of call were Skagway, Juneau, Ketchikan with a final destination of Vancouver. The main industry in the first three (discounting Vancouver) is tourism. All towns were no more than a five minute walk from our docked ship, and each had its overwhelming number of discount jewelry, t-shirt, Harley Davidson and tchotchke shops. So much so that I felt that the real towns were hiding a few miles away and we were exploring sets built for the tourists.

Glacier BayOn our way to Skagway we spent an amazing afternoon cruising Glacier Bay National Park, which is on Alaska’s Inside Passage and covers some 3.3 million acres. Glaciers are constantly moving masses of ice under tremendous amounts of pressure. As tidewater glaciers reach the water, large pieces break off, or calve, and form icebergs. The sound of these massive chunks of ice plummeting into the water around us was thunderous and eerie.

Our first port of call was Skagway, a town founded in 1897 at the head of the Taiya Inlet – the northern most point of the Inside Passage. After having our fill of tourist shops we boarded the White Pass & Yukon Route Railway for the 40-mile White Pass Summit Excursion. White Pass TrainThe breath taking ride in vintage passenger coaches took us along wild flower festooned valleys, mile high waterfalls, mammoth glaciers, snow peaked mountains, and part of the original Klondike Trail, a narrow trail where countless lives were lost in the search for gold.

Our next port of call was Juneau, founded in 1890 and the capital of Alaska. It has the distinction of being the only U.S. state capital with no road access. Could its founding fathers have needed their “alone time”? If you want to get to Juneau you either fly or sail in. (Alaska has the highest number of pilots per capita than any other U.S. state)

By this point in the trip, with passengers having gone on numerous excursions, a game of one-upmanship commenced. During communal meals claims like “I saw 2 bear”, or “Well, I saw 7 moose”, and “Big deal – I saw 6 bald eagles” were common. I found myself being swept up in the moment. Up until that point Dina and I had only seen 3 moose and some spawning salmon but out of my mouth came “Well, we’ve seen 4 black bears, 6 whales, 9 moose, 8 bald eagles and 3 squirrels”. Ooops. What does a kid from Brooklyn know about animals in the Northern wild? While in Juneau, however, Dina and I went on a whale watch and spotted numerous humpback whales breaching and sea lions sunning themselves along deserted beaches. We were ready to play the game again! Emergency Sign

Food is served 24-hours a day on a cruise ship and you’re never farther than 3-minutes from a meal. Passengers have their choice of Anytime, Traditional, or Buffet style dining. For an additional charge you can have dinner at one of the ship’s five Specialty Restaurants (remember the cow theory). If that were not enough, you can also graze at The Grill & Bar, Ice Cream Bar, Princess Pizzeria, and International Pastry & Coffee Bar.

At home, except for dinner, our meals are simple and quick. I boarded the ship determined to hold to the same regimen. Keep in mind that one of the big activities on a cruise ship is eating – and most passengers whole-heartedly embrace the activity. Suffice to say that I left the ship weighing an additional 5 lbs.

SelfieWe chose Anytime dining for meals. Now we had the option of eating by ourselves or at a communal table. The first night we chose to dine alone. Were we embracing the Alaskan concept of “alone time”? Or was it that I like people only when I’m in the mood? During dinner we struck up a conversation with a couple at the next table. Steve and Barbara from Arizona were in their mid 80’s and had gotten married in the last year. We had a pleasant conversation which led us to choose communal dining from that point on.

Over the next 6 days we ate with roughly 144 interesting people and heard some fascinating stories. We met a husband and wife from Burbank, CA who collect and restore 1956 Cadillacs, a couple from Australia who take 3-month vacations several times a year, and a woman from South Africa who ended up becoming sick on vacation in Russia and convalescing in a hospital there. (Here’s a shout-out to Tom and Paula from Delaware and Jack and Judy from Colorado. It was great meeting you!) I truly enjoyed taking my meals and talking with many of the 144 people – except for one right wing wing-nut from Ohio. Maybe it was the fact that I’ve worked alone at home for the past 21 years and needed some time around people.

Ketchikan, the least touristy town of the three, was our next port. By that time we had our fill of excursions so we just meandered around. The highlight of the day was visiting Burger Queen on Water Street – an excellent burger joint with killer malteds. It was the best malted I’ve had since living in the East Village. I suggest the pistachio – even with a hamburger. Some women like to buy jewelry on vacation. What was my wife’s treasured purchase? A 3” tall pewter moose purchased in Ketchikan that now sits proudly on our living room mantel.Moose

Vancouver was the final destination. By that time we both needed our “alone time” so we stayed for 3 days and shunned people. Did I have a good vacation? I had a great vacation! Did I enjoy the cruise? Most definitely! Would I do another cruise? Probably not, but I did confront my fears and the nightmares have finally stopped!

Filed Under: Travel Adventures Tagged With: , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

NORTH to ALASKA: One if by Land

September 17, 2014 by 4 Comments

GUEST BLOGGER: DAVID RHODES

PART ONE: One if by Land

Eventually we all have to confront our fears. My time came this summer. Young DavidEver since I was young I’ve had a reoccurring nightmare of being trapped at sea on a mid-size cruise ship in a cold climate. While on this ship I’m forced by tribal customs to eat sizeable meals every 4 hours and make pleasant conversation with large numbers of people from all over the world. (But more about my nightmare later.)

This year was my wife’s turn to pick our summer vacation destination and Dina chose Alaska. I believe she selected it in retaliation for my choosing Cuba last summer. Dina is not a fan of hot weather, humidity or nail polish, and I’m not a fan of cold weather, gated communities or cruise ships. The dagger to my heart was that, in addition to the cold of Alaska, part of the trip would be spent on a cruise ship.Coral Princess

The first thing I did was research weather in Alaska in August. Not too bad – a high of low 60’s to 70˚F. What did concern me was descriptions like “weather highly unpredictable”, “dress in layers” and “Alaska gets rainier as the summer progresses”. We set off on July 29th with our first stop being Anchorage. The weather gods must have been listening to my prayers, because when we landed it was 80˚F and sunny. And I do mean sunny because at that time of year Anchorage experiences 20 hours of sunlight per day. Lucky for us our hotel room had blackout curtains.

What’s the first thing to do after landing in Anchorage? Play “Anchorage” by Michelle Shocked – a personal favorite of mine. What’s the second thing? Find a place to eat some great seafood. For us it was Simon’s and Seafort’s Saloon & Grill. After consuming a dozen local oysters, wild Alaska salmon Carpaccio, crab cakes, and several glasses of sauvignon blanc while watching the sun go down over the bay, we were ready to start our Alaskan adventure.

Mt. McKinley RangeOur first stop was the Mt. McKinley Princess Wilderness Lodge, where Mt. McKinley (proper name is Mt. Denali – meaning “The High One”) could be seen in the distance. Standing at 20,237 feet tall it’s the highest mountain peak in North America and only fully visible 33% of the time. We took a short bus ride to Talkeetna, a small village at the base of the mountain, for a glacier landing with K2Aviation. Put this awesome adventure on your bucket list!

Jeff BabcockJeff Babcock, a retired 28 year veteran pilot of the Alaskan State Troopers was our pilot and enjoys his job. As soon as the de Havilland Otter took off, Jeff’s shoulders relaxed and he cracked jokes through our headsets. After flying over moose grazing below, we were within a mile of one of the most amazing sights in the world. To accentuate the moment Jeff pressed play on his iPod mini and we were instantly grooving to Johnny Horton singing “North to Alaska” followed by John Denver’s “Rocky Mountain High”. Yes, I know where the second song takes place, but it still worked.

Glacier LandingWe landed at an elevation of 5600 feet on the Ruth Glacier. Alaska is aptly nicknamed “The Last Wilderness”. The scene was one of austere beauty – vast, quiet, pristine and uninhabited. Dina and I were as silent as the landscape, awed and aware that we were in a place that only a small percentage of the world population will ever see.

The following day we panned for gold with Rich Humphrey, the new owner of Denali Gold Tours in Trappers Creek, Alaska. Rich was born in Alaska and has spent his entire life there except for a hitch in the U.S. Marine Corps. Since Dina and I were the only people on the tour that day, Rich had time to talk about Alaskans. The best way to sum them up is “friendly people who need their alone time”. Many live off the grid with no running water, electricity and little contact with neighbors – and prefer it that way.

Even though Dina and I have faced numerous precarious situations while living in NYC, we were nervous driving 20 miles down gravel roads into the back country with a man carrying two hand guns. Rich assured us that the guns were only a precaution in case we encountered bears. His explanation shifted our worry from him and his two guns to possible bear confrontations.Gold Panning

We were lucky since no bears were sighted, but we did see moose and spawning salmon. Dina proved to be a master gold panner in the mountain-fed freezing river as she found several flecks of gold. The best I could find was some flour gold – so small it wasn’t worth saving. Our back breaking labor was rewarded with a gourmet lunch of Reindeer Dogs and cold drinks at the local 7-Eleven equivalent and a visit to the Trapper Creek Museum. (Best of luck with the new business, Rich!)

Our next stop was a 2-hour drive to Denali, Alaska. There we took a half day tour of the six million acre Denali National Park and Preserve, filled with snow capped mountains and virgin forests. Our visit included an exhibition of overzealous 80-100 lb. dogs pulling a sled. The excited dogs almost pulled their trainers out of their boots as they went from the kennels to the sled. The trainers had to restrain the dogs’ enthusiasm by grasping their collars and lifting their front paws off the ground. No matter what the Coalition to Ban Horse-Drawn Carriages says about cruelty to horses, these dogs love pulling a sled.Lake WasillaDog Sled Exhibition

The next day we left on the McKinley Explorer glass-domed train for a relaxing six-hour train ride from Denali to Whittier, Alaska. The ride took us through endless acres of forests, over rivers and gorges, past Sarah Palin’s summer home on Lake Lucille in Wasilla, Alaska and down the coast along the Prince William Sound to Whittier. The train did stop briefly in Wasilla, but as hard as I tried …  I couldn’t see Russia from there!

NEXT WEEK

PART TWO : Two if by Sea

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Cuba Part 2: Just Look Up

July 23, 2013 by 4 Comments

GUEST BLOGGER: DAVID RHODES

At some point in the past decade, people began walking with their heads down.

Why? What are people looking for?   Looking at?   Their feet?   The ground?   Avoiding gum?   No, they are looking at cell phones in their hands. With the invention of the smart phone, the art of personal interaction and communication started changing.

Wherever you travel these days there’s an internet connection. Or so I thought. We were told in advance that internet connections could be “spotty” in Cuba. Even though I travel with a smart phone and iPad, I found the prospect of limited access intriguing. I activated the auto reply on my business email, recorded a voice mail greeting informing clients I was out of the office, and off we went.

Pedicab in Havana

Pedicab in Havana

As digital protocol dictated, on arrival I checked my email on the iPad. In Cuba my smart phone was useless except as a clock or camera. The hotel wifi connection was slow the first day. On the second day – even slower. I could brush my teeth and shower by the time my email loaded. (Unlike home, our hotel shower was extremely luxurious resulting in my taking an abnormally long shower.) This lengthy shower enabled all my vital communications to download. After so much time and effort and so little reward (important emails vs. junk emails), I decided to turn off all electronics and experience being “digitally disconnected” for the remainder of the trip. I felt a sudden strange sense of freedom.

For me, cutting the digital cord was not as hard as you might think. Unlike many of my contemporaries, technology doesn’t play a large part in my life. Outside of work, I don’t Tweet, post on Facebook or check in on Foursquare. I do have a Facebook account, but only have a small number of friends – and they “friended” me. My wife says I’m antisocial.  She’s probably right, but I think it’s only a part time condition.

Poster at Hotel SaratogaBeing digitally free, I had more time to explore my surroundings. One day, while wandering around the Hotel Saratoga lobby, I noticed an interesting wall decoration. On it were signatures of people from all over the world who had stayed at the hotel. At the bottom were the words Brooklyn, NYC and a website address: Olivesveryvintage.com. Since I was born in Brooklyn and my son had recently moved there, it piqued my curiosity.

The photo and website address stayed in the back of my mind until I returned home. I found out that olivesveryvintage.com is the website of Olive and Olaf’s, a store in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn and an online shopping website for vintage fashions and home décor items. On a lark I clicked on the company’s email link and sent the photo and a short email detailing how I came to take it. Later that day I received an email from Jen McCulloch, the founder and owner of Olive and Olaf’s. She was amazed that someone would contact her regarding a poster she had signed 5 years earlier. I just might drop in to Olive and Olaf’s next time I’m in need of something vintage to wear. (It’s funny that after refraining from using technology, I needed it to connect with Jen.)

While traveling around Cuba I saw little evidence of people using smart phones or tablets. Because of poor or nonexistent internet connections, if you do see a smart phone it’s for voice conversations or texting. Even in people’s homes internet connections are rare due to the high cost, limited bandwidth and censorship of online content.

On one hand limited technology hinders progress in Cuba, but at the same time facilitates an atmosphere for people to people communication. People talk directly to one another – not via technology. They tend to live in the moment, their moment, not through someone else’s life on Facebook.

Wall Graffiti

Wall Graffiti

Walking through the streets of Havana, while looking up, I noticed interesting graffiti on the outside wall of a bar. The bar turned out to be La Bodeguita Del Medio, one,of  Ernest Hemingway’s many favorite watering holes.  The bar & restaurant was also a favorite of former Chilean President Salvador Allende and the poet Pablo Neruda. It lays claim to being the birthplace of the mojito.

Hemingway's Hangout

Hemingway’s Hangout

While in Cuba I consumed more alcohol (mojitos and cervezas) than I have in the last two years combined. I rationalized this consumption as a way of staying hydrated. And I did.

La Bodeguita Del Medio was packed and alive with conversation as I entered. No one was looking down at their hands. Drinks were being consumed, food shared and stories exchanged. Unfortunately I couldn’t understand one word, but I knew everyone was thoroughly engrossed in the moment.

People to People

People to People

In the evening many Cubans congregate along malecons with the hope of catching a breeze and meeting friends. Face-to-face conversation is the main entertainment … and perhaps receiving a free bottle of rum from a passing carload of crazy Americanos. One night, with Matt our tour guide from Austin and Cindy and Terry from Michigan, I cruised the malecon in Havana.

While speaking with a Cuban about the local social scene, a young woman came up to me and posed for pictures her friend was taking. She was about 20 years old, extremely attractive, and had a great smile. This led to a conversation with Matt translating, since he was the only one in our group fluent in Spanish. Through Matt I asked why she wanted pictures with me, secretly hoping I still had that certain “something” (which I’m not sure I ever had). Or was it that I reminded her of her father? It turns out she just wanted pictures with an American tourist. She gave us her phone number and told us to call if she could be of any help during our stay in Cuba. I’m still waiting for her to “friend” me.

As I get older, I have a growing desire to find the world of my early years. Where neighbors would go outside on a hot summer night and speak over the fence. Where children would see how many fireflies or bees they could catch in a jar.Dina Photo Web 2

To facilitate a true “people-to-people” experience on vacation, you might first want to attend a 3-day retreat at Digital Detox in Ukiah, CA., where the theme is “disconnect to reconnect”. After attending you could take a flight directly to Cuba and truly enjoy a “people-to-people” experience. All you need to do is just Look Up! If not you might miss something like this – click here!

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Cuba Part 1: People to People

July 16, 2013 by 7 Comments

GUEST BLOGGER: DAVID RHODES

OK. How many of you have taken a vacation where the apparent goal was to visit as many churches (even if you’re Jewish) and museums as possible? Or at least until the funds ran out?

Raise your hand…

This year was my turn to pick our summer vacation destination, and I vowed to do something different. After all I had just had one of those “decade” birthdays. After much deliberation I chose Cuba. When informed of my choice, the only thing my wife said was “Cuba?” This she repeated several times over the next two days. On the third day, it changed to “Cuba!”

Hanging out at a Cuban market

Hanging out at a Cuban market

Since travel to Cuba for U.S. citizens (unless you’re Jay-Z and Beyonce) is restricted for the most part to educational, cultural or religious programs, we needed to find a group to travel with. A friend recommended Grand Circle Foundation, a company that runs People-to-People Cultural Exchange Programs that help the countries they visit. The Foundation has pledged or donated more than $91 million throughout the world. The programs emphasize meeting and speaking with “real” people.

“People-to-People” travel licenses were created under former President Bill Clinton. Along with many other missteps, they were stopped due to travel restrictions imposed by George W. Bush and later reinstated by the Obama administration. For this reason alone, Cubans love Obama.

Hotel Saratoga, Havana

Hotel Saratoga, Havana

We landed in Havana and checked into the Hotel Saratoga – the very same hotel where Jay-Z and Beyonce had stayed. Being in the same hotel as A-list celebrities was a new experience for my wife and me. During the next several days we argued with one of our tour group members from Michigan, as to who had Jay-Z and Beyonce’s room. In the end, for the sake of tour group relations, we resolved that she had their room and we had Cyndi Lauper’s room. Why Cyndi? We had just seen Kinky Boots on Broadway. (Has she ever been to Cuba? If not, she can say she stayed in the Rhodes’ room when she visits!)

Art Deco in Havana

Art Deco in Havana

Walking through the streets of Havana you see a city that has been in architectural decline for decades. Buildings once magnificent are now in dire need of TLC. In spite of this, the city still has an amazing air of dignity and style.  Some of the finest examples of Art Deco architecture can be found in Havana. This year Havana was the host site of the World Congress on Art Deco.

Baseball is a large part of Cuban culture. In our tour guide Roberto’s quest to arrange spontaneous “people-to-people” experiences, he organized a pick-up baseball game for Austin, an 18 year-old tour group member who had just received a full baseball athletic scholarship to New Mexico State. Roberto approached a group of young men on a street corner in Cienfuegos, the home of Los Angeles Dodgers rookie phenom Yasiel Puig with the promise of rum and other swag if they could assemble enough friends for a ballgame at the local field that afternoon.

Pick-up baseball in Cienfuegos

Pick-up baseball in Cienfuegos

With no advance warning we drove to the ball field – which was really a flat field full of rocks and scattered horse droppings. In Cuba horses and other animals are used as lawn mowers. Needless to say, we did not strike fear in the hearts of our opponents as we unloaded from the bus. Sixteen Americans, some slightly overweight (count me in), some in flip flops (count me in) who probably had not played ball in over 25 years (count me in) …if at all.

Trash talking is not nearly so effective when your opponent doesn’t speak the same language, but it didn’t stop either side. No one was keeping score, since we already knew who the winner would be. The game was pure comedy – easy grounders missed, fly balls dropped, horse manure stepped in, not enough gloves to go around, pitches flailed at, cars almost hit, and some friendly cheating. Our side did manage to score a few runs with the help of my 2 for 3 performance at the plate.

Leena and husband

Leena and husband

One afternoon Roberto invited my wife and me to visit Leena, a woman in her late 60’s he had met 12 months prior. She lives in a tiny apartment with her husband off the town square. Leena told Roberto of her dream the prior week that he would visit her soon. She was overjoyed to see him.

During our visit Roberto gave Leena two bottles of Aleve. When they first met, she had mentioned that she suffered from arthritis. To her the medicine was like gold. Even though there is free health care in Cuba, citizens must pay high prices for any medications needed.

Dance Practice

Dance Practice

The Arts have been supported as much as financially possible by the government. Music and dance permeate Cuban culture. At a rest stop between Havana and Cienfuegos our driver Felix offered Laura, a young dancer waiting for a bus, a ride. Before we reached our destination, Roberto had arranged for us to see a rehearsal of Laura’s dance company the following day.

Even though the wood floors in the rehearsal space were warped and probably had never been refinished and the temperature was well over 90 degrees, the dancers vibrated to the beats coming out of a boom box. The condition of the location was irrelevant to the dancers. The pride in their craft was what mattered.

When we checked in at our hotel in Trinidad each group member received a bottle of aged Cuban rum. Since the rum could not be brought back to the US and we couldn’t possibly drink it all, our tour guide Roberto said he had something in mind for the bottles. After finishing an incredible meal in Havana on our last night, we exited the restaurant to find four vintage 1940’s American convertibles -pink, orange, blue and white- waiting to take us back to the Hotel Nacional.

People to People

People to People

Could Hollywood have scripted a better ending to a vacation? Sixteen tourists piled into four vintage convertibles, cruising down the malecon under a starlit Havana sky, horns honking, stopping and passing out bottles of excellent rum to random Cubans. The look on their faces was indescribable when presented with the rum.

Could it get any more “people-to-people” than that???

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Relax…Breathe…

June 27, 2013 by 10 Comments

The highway digital sign crying “Silver Alert – Missing elderly man in gray Mercedes, License XXXX” signaled our entry into Florida. Having spent the last twenty years living in the suburbs of DC and Houston, we are accustomed to snipers, car-jacking , kidnapping and Amber alerts, murder and mayhem…missing children, but not missing seniors!

Loving the Beach!

Loving the Beach!

Whenever we relocate, we approach the adventure as if we were moving to a foreign country – new foods, new vocabulary, new customs. We followed the same process with this move to the Naples area.

We quickly adapted to the new foods: Tex Mex has been replaced by Italian and fresh seafood restaurants.

New vocabulary: “In Season” no longer means to wear white after Memorial Day, but refers to the time of year when tourists invade the Florida beaches.

New customs: Relax…breathe…relax…  Keeping up with the 80 MPH traffic on the Interstates around Houston has given me a heavy foot and an attitude. Traffic on Highway 41 (Tamiami Road) to Fort Myers is nearly as congested as it is on Beltway 8 in Houston, except that it moves at 1/3 the speed; instead of eighteen wheelers and super big pick-ups rocketing past us on the Interstate, a plodding phalanx of luxury cars block all three lanes. We are trying to learn to calm our ulcers and enjoy the pace.  After all, we are retired. We don’t HAVE to be anywhere! Relax..breathe…

All the News…

I am a print newspaper person. Yes, I have my Kindle for books, my tablet for research, my phone for email, and my computer for blog writing. But I love my paper and coffee in the morning, even though the news is 24 hours old and I’ve already read the highlights on Google.  Embarrassed though I am to confess it, my favorite part of the Daily News is the police reports!

The first one I read hooked me forever:  a motorized wheelchair had been found in downtown Naples; if not claimed in 90 days, the wheelchair would be turned over to the finder.

I pondered with another cup of coffee: did the chair take off on its own? did junior high kids joy-ride in a stolen wheel chair, and then abandon it? was the occupant of the chair suddenly raptured?  Did he appear in heaven wearing his clothes, but leaving his wheelchair behind?

After the murder and mayhem of Houston, the domestic “violence” reports here are lifted from the 50’s. A few of my favorites from the last weeks are:

  • The couple who were arrested because he scratched her neck and left a red mark after she struck him with a phone charger cord. This is violence?  Have they never heard of assault weapons?
  • A woman who attacked another with a hair dryer. That was the whole story in the paper. I want to know more! Was the dryer set at full power and on hot? Did the victim’s hair stand on end?
  • The adult who threw a soup can at the teen-age boy who had not started his chores. The boy had a bruised arm and “the soup can was taken into evidence.” With some fast thinking by the “perp,” this report could have been the gentler version of the Alfred Hitchcock episode where Mary killed her husband with a frozen leg of lamb, then roasted it and served it to the investigating officers. Why didn’t the guy have lunch before the police arrived?

And the crime stopper:

  • A man was arrested for operating a dental office out of a one-car garage. He picked up people at the local grocery store and drove them to his place of business. He quoted undercover agents $350 for a root canal, and was charged with practicing dental hygiene without a license! Where can I get a license for flossing? Target? CVS? Walgreens?

Barefoot

Lest you think I don’t like it here, let me extol the virtues: really nice people, amazing photo ops, great restaurants and beaches. Beaches and more beaches, and all within a few minutes’ drive! We often have to remind ourselves that that we don’t have to “go back” in a few days – we’re not on vacation. We actually LIVE here!

Now if we could only learn to relax…

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