The Farm Boy

A little story to break up the monotone.

So a farmer had a young daughter who was reaching the age of maturity who was showing a good deal of restlessness. The farmer was not ready to marry her off just yet, and besides there were no good candidates nearby. However, he feared for the safety of her immortal soul, and he also didn't want her or his reputation sullied by anyone discovering that this young lady was on the verge of becoming a sexual creature.

The girl's mother, God rest her soul, had been a sexual dynamo, the farmer remembered. It took most of the energy he had to keep her satisfied. For weeks the farmwork was left undone while he carried out his husbandly duties. He was constantly going to the doctor to get more vitamins and tonics - he never told the doctor what they were for, but he suspected the doctor knew.

And now the girl was showing signs of following in the mother's footsteps. How did he know? The walls in the house were thin. As she apparently explored her young sumptuous body at night, she made little cooing gasping and groaning sounds, and even if she put her hand over her mouth, the sounds still made their way to the ears of her father. Over time, she got better at pleasuring herself, and then the cooing gasping and groaning was followed by fast shallow breathing and then shrieking and crying. Then one night, the farmer heard a sound like an electric toothbrush, only it was long after the time when any toothbrushing would be done, and then the usual cooing and groaning, just a little louder than usual, and the shrieking and crying a little sooner and louder too.

During the day when his daughter was out of the house, the farmer paced the livingroom floor, perplexed and troubled. Since he would not be marrying her off any time soon, this self-pleasuring was going to keep on. And he had seen that she looked at people differently now than she used to - not just men, but everyone. It was as if her gaze was saying "oh my god, I have so much fun at night, you have no idea." It was only a matter of time before people started asking if his daughter was ok, just as a generation earlier, people had sometime come up to him and said, "um, is your wife ok?"

What could he do? He knew what the preacher would say: a regimen of prayer and beatings if she kept up the funny stuff at night. That just didn't sound to him like any kind of solution. But that didn't lessen his anxiety any that left untreated, his daughter was in trouble. He remembered how distraught his wife became when he didn't take care of her needs properly. He didn't want his baby girl to go through that.

The next time he was in the county store, he overheard someone talking about a crone who had settled nearby who was very wise, so he thought, "hmmm, maybe I could consult her." He discreetly asked for her whereabouts and planned a trip to meet the old lady.

The hut in the woods was sufficiently dilapidated. The wrinkled nearly blind creature dwelling inside probably had forgotten what a bath was. But when the farmer spoke her name, she brightened up and spoke out in a clear voice, "what do you need, friend?"

He could hardly tell her, but it seemed almost as if she knew before the words were out of her mouth. "This isn't the first time you've seen this kind of behavior, is it my friend?" So then he told her about his wife, and she nodded, listening to the story.

When he had finished talking, she sighed, cleared her throat, and said, "Neighbor, do you have any young men nearby who can be trusted?" The farmer said no quickly, but then realized that there was such a person, a youngster nearly the same age as his daughter who was working for the season at the farm next to his. This farm boy seemed intelligent, and his employers swore that he was very trustworthy and hardworking. He spoke up, and told the crone about this farm boy living so nearby.

She told him what he must do. The only way to restore this girl's virtue and keep her from getting in trouble, and imbuing her with quiet and seemliness was to satiate these desires welling up within her. He must discreetly invite the farm boy over and coax him into giving the daughter what she needed regularly until such time as she recovered her air of chastity.

The farmer scratched his head. He had never heard of such a thing. Actually encourage your own daughter to carry on with a near stranger under your own roof? Would it even work? Well, he was a man of ample imagination of breadth of vision. So he reasoned that as long as this arrangement was kept between the three of them, it could work.

He didn't waste any time getting the farm boy over to his house. He had told the boy's employers that he needed the boy to do some hedge trimming. The boy looked the daughter over as the father explained what he was proposing they do, and without a word of agreement or contradiction, stood up, took the girl by the hand, and led her upstairs to her room.

If the sounds coming out of her room used to keep the farmer awake, they were nothing compared to what he heard now. She screamed as if she was being murdered, for it seemed like hours on end. And then finally she screamed one more time, sighed, and it was over. Two minutes later, the farmer heard a soft knock on his door, and then the farm boy whispering, "it's done, sir. She's asleep now."

Every night after that, it was the same thing. The farmer took to sleeping on the livingroom couch because he thought the noise might be less acute, but it was still loud enough to keep him awake. The shy but gentle farm boy would report to the farmer before he left and walked back to the neighboring farm and his bed in their barn.

Several weeks went by, with the screams taking on a more tempered fashion. Now the farmer could make out his daughter saying things like, "more!" and "oh yes!" Not that he really wanted to make note of exactly what was going on. But he thought a certain amount of knowledge of what was taking place upstairs was important. He was after all doing this for her good, and needed to be sure that it was in fact helping her.

How was she during the day? Still licentious and loose and overly familiar with people, even overly physical with people? Well, maybe a little. She seemed to be making some progress toward being self-contained and proper. He hoped that wasn't just him wanting to see her that way. But he had to be honest. There were still moments when she stared at people as if she wanted to tear their clothes off and have them right then and there.

Weeks passed, with the sounds emerging from her throat during the nightly carryings-on still as lusty and loud as ever. As he lay wide awake on the couch, the farmer started wondering if this experiment was really so wise afterward. He had spent years satisfying his wife, her mother, for weeks or months at a time, thrashing and sucking and licking until he was sore and exhausted, and he didn't ever remember his wife growing less ardent in her desires for love. They did manage to keep the randiness between the four walls of their bedroom. But it never seemed to abate.

The next morning he thought he better pay a second trip to the crone. So he got on his horse and rode over to the wood where her hut lay. He hammered on her door for a good solid 5 minutes before her voice answered an invitation to enter. She sat in a shadowy corner and wouldn't meet his eyes. What he could make out seemed to indicate that she was more disheveled than last time, and had not as many wrinkles as before.

He explained to her how he was unsure that the cure was working. She hoarsely reassured him that he just needed to give the process more time. He tried to listen to the advice, but he was distracted by a growing suspicion. Something told him that he knew this crone. Something in her voice and the curve of her nose and her smell was familiar to him, he could swear. The more she talked, the more he felt he knew her somehow.

"More time, you've got to give it more time," she was saying and then she sneezed, and the farmer could've sworn her hair moved as if it had come loose from her head. "This boy is doing a wonderful job I'm guessing. You just let him work his magic a little while longer..."

The farmer reached forward, not really knowing what he expected to happen, and snatched her hair off her head, to discover that underneath that wig was none other than the farm boy himself. Realizing himself discovered, he jumped up, lunged past the farmer and ran out of the hut and into the woods. The farmer stood up and walked in the direction he'd run. He was less angry with the boy than he was disappointed that his problem being left unsolved.

"Oh well," he thought, "hopefully the farm boy will come back. I'll let him know there's no hard feelings. There's my daughter's well-being to consider here."

Paris memories, part two

So Sunday was Louvre and Pompidour Centre day. First we had that wonderful breakfast again. Then we had to stop at a pharmacy near the Arc de Triomphe - poor Therese was having trouble with a bad tooth, a lot of pain. So we decided we would take the Metro to the Arc, have a little photo op, go to the pharmacy, then walk to the Louvre.

It was fun walking down the Champs Elysees. The day was overcast but not too chilly. Just around the time we reached the Place de la Concorde, a little drizzle started. But we made it to the Louvre ok and entered by the Pont de Lyon courtesy of our Paris museum passes. From there it was a short walk to all the galleries of amazing Italian Renaissance paintings.

Of course, it was all Mona Lisa centered, but we managed to look at lots of other great stuff while the throngs were crushing to see La Gioconda. Titians, Tintorettos, etc., but we never did find the other Da Vinci's which are said to be overlooked by most museumgoers.

Our backs and my knee were bothering us and we were feeling ready for a break, so we traced our way toward the pyramid and a cafe. Two sandwiches, two bags of chips and two beverages was actually pretty reasonable, and Therese saved us a table while I waited in line to pay. The break revived us, and we decided to take some of the lovely over-the-counter pain-managing pills Therese had gotten at the pharmacy.

Next stop, the sculpture gardens in the Richelieu wing. We definitely felt the effects of the medication - we were relaxed, elated even, and had a wonderful time looking at the amazing sculptures. From there we made our way through the Napoleon apartments to Dutch early Baroque paintings. We finished up in a room of Rubens all celebrating a French royal personage - in each painting, she looked imposing, even larger, taller than all other people in the painting. Pretty amazing. And then a man from the Louvre came and told us the museum was closing.

We had thought we would take a break between the museums, but now we decided to go straight from one museum to the next. A short Metro ride and then a short walk found us in front of the original and quite unusual Pompidou Centre.

The current exhibition was all about different aspects of Women's art, with the focus on deconstruction. Some things were more successful than others, but all of it was intriguing. There were a couple outdoor sculpture areas we could see through large windows beyond which were amazing views of Paris - one direction was the Eiffel Tower, another the Sacre Cour.

The floor below that was of art from earlier in the 20th century. The highlight of that for me were the large-format paper-cutouts of Matisse - Oceania and two others whose name I forget.

We left the Pompidou Centre as it started to get dark. What a full day!

Monday we slept in and missed breakfast, so before we did any cultural stuff, we ate lunch, at the Brasserie Lipp in the 6th arrondisement, on St. Germain-des-Prez, across the street from the church of the same night. It was choucroutes and German beer for both of us - potato, sauerkraut and sausages and ham. It tasted like it was all boiled, while the other time I had that dish, it was baked in the oven. So this while equally delicious was a little lighter. A little spicy mustard and we were good.

Then it was across the street to the Church of St. German des Pres. This is a beautiful neighborhood sized church, of incredible antiquity - with big round Romanesque columns and early Gothic ornaments painted everywhere. Unfortunately, the church looks in a state of some disrepair, so it's kind of a sad place. You can't help wondering how glorious and amazing it would look with the rot and mildew wiped away and a new coat of paint. Nevertheless, we found lots to astound us - monuments to two Baroque French knights were pretty amazing, for example.

From there we walked to the Musee de Cluny, the national Medieval museum. For such a compact building, this had an incredibly vast collection of sculpture, stained glass and paintings and treasures from all over France and elsewhere. Therese was really impressed when we came across a couple pages from an antiphonary (I think 14th century) and I was able to translate the Latin text and then also sightread the chant music. She felt like she had her own private expert guide, and I felt very proud to be reminded of how much the Medieval period and its music means to me.

Next was my cigar lounge experience for the trip. On the internet, I'd discovered that the Hotel Lutetia converted an old kitchen into a smoking room, and our concierge has confirmed that it was the best place in Paris to smoke a cigar. We walked to the hotel, I asked at the desk for the smoking lounge, and they directed us to a small room next to the hotel's bar. The room was empty when we entered, and not more than a couple of people joined us while we were in there. I had the field of being buried somewhere where my cigar wouldn't bother anyone. But at least they have gone to the trouble of creating this room. Perhaps if we had been there when there were more people using it, it would've felt different.

Our last day in Paris the weather was once again a little overcast. Therese had decided we needed our Eiffel Tower photo-op, and I agreed. So we went over there and posed and an Asian man took our picture. From there, we took a train to the Musee d'Orsay. Apparently, they are renovating the museum, so that all the incredible Impressionist paintings are not where they normally would be. Even as it is, I was very impressed. I love Renoir's and Van Gogh's and Toulouse Lautrec's and it was great to see so many wonderful paintings I've never seen before, other than in books.

Then we ate lunch in the d'Orsays wonderful cafe. Wow, what a lovely huge room. Our last meal in Paris was perhaps a bit modest, but it was delicious and we enjoyed it quite a bit.

Then it was time to return to pick up our luggage and head to the airport. We both dozed in the taxi on the way, and then endured the long trip back to NY, wishing that the dream pulsing through our brains of this wonderful romantic place would never dim.

Paris, a few weeks after...

OK, so my life has been interesting enough. But that's no excuse for not keeping up! The main thing is I have a new fancy laptop and I will have a new fancy or not fancy roommate soon. But anyway, how was Paris? It was great. Let me tell you a little about it.

Therese knew that our late evening flight was going to be delayed, and unfortunately, she was right, so we didn't leave New York until nearly midnight on Thursday, and arrived at our hotel well into Friday afternoon. And true to form, I slept very little on the airplane, so I needed a nap if we were going to do anything on Friday.

While I slept, Therese got her nails done and talked to the concierge, and explored a little bit. So when I roused myself, she was all ready with a plan: a walk to a brasserie nearby where we would have dinner, followed by a walk through a small park and a bus and tram ride to Sacre Cour Cathedral and Montmartre.

Dinner was great. A "tresor" of seafood - 2 kinds of snails, 3 kinds of shrimp, half a crab, half a lobster, about 5 different kinds of oysters, and dipping sauces and bread, with some white wine to wash it all down. Wow.

Sacre Cour is amazing. First, it's up on this crazy hill, so steep you have to take a tram/elevator. Then it's this insanely huge white building looking kind of spooky at night with all the lights shining on it. We went inside and of course there was a mass going on - just about every church we went into had mass going on (hey wait, isn't France supposed to be a really secular country?).

Therese knew the neighborhood so we walked around a bit to a square filled with touristy restaurants with big terraces, and a handful of artists drawing people's portraits. On the way, we turned and off in the distance through the dark was the Eiffel Tower all ablaze - my first sighting!

So that was it for Friday - I was starting to get really sleepy again. But Saturday we were planning to do the Ile de la Cite - Sainte-Chapelle and Notre Dame and whatever else we stumbled on.

We rose Saturday morning feeling really hungry, went up to the Executive lounge (Therese is a Hilton Diamond level member, so she and by extension me get treated like kings and queens). But um, no room at the inn. However, they gave us coupons for the restaurant downstairs, and that turned out to be a better deal anyway, so we ate breakfast there the whole rest of our stay. Fresh fruit, juices, good bread, cold cuts, croissants in like 10 varieties, sausages, bacon, eggs (with milk, blech), baked beans, stewed tomatoes (you know, all that English breakfast stuff), salmon, mackeral, hard-boiled eggs, and on and on.

We took the Metro to the Tuileries, to discover that they were looking kinda sad - lots of dust and very little in the way of foliage. We walked from there alongside the Louvre down to the bank of the Seine and walked along the river until we got to the Pont Neuf. Pretty cool. Crossing the bridge, we arrived at a triangular plaza - I was thirsty, but the places facing this plaza would only let us sit down if we were going to buy lunch and it was too early for that for us. So we kept walking, around the side of the building in front of us (Palais de Justice?), and found a cafe where we could have a soda. Then we were ready to go into Saint-Chapelle.

Now, they are cleaning some of the windows. But still the upper chapel is breathtaking. Of course, it's kind of small and filled with people, sitting in the chairs rimming the room, and taking pictures. The attendant shushes people when it gets too loud, which I loved.

Below the upper chapel, the first room you see is, duh, the lower chapel, which is also a gift shop. What a setting for a gift shop! Some of the columns and other decorative elements need some sprucing up with paint, but even so this room is pretty spectacular too.

From there we crossed through the next huge plaza to the crypt for Notre Dame, which is really an archeological record of the oldest remnants of the island and Paris itself (since that is where the settlement began in pre-Roman times). Pretty interesting.

Then it was on to Notre Dame, and can I tell you, the clean up job they did has left the church looking gorgeous. Everything looks fresh, and even the details that are a little worn down still look nice and polished - so they look splendid, but also show their age - pretty cool.

The main thing that struck us inside the church was the decoration on the outside of the choir section. The right side was all Passion stuff, while the left side was scenes from Jesus life. Included in the latter was a curious depiction of Mary's cousin Elizabeth embracing Mary and putting her hand on Mary's belly as if to confirm that Mary is really pregnant. I've never seen anything like that. It was very intimate.

Once we finished with Notre Dame, we were feeling a little beat, and hungry. Therese managed to find a particular compact she was looking to buy for her daughter, and we crossed over the bridge onto the Left Bank. Lo and behold, there was an outdoor cafe we saw down a side street. So we stopped there - I had a charcuterie plate, and Therese had some kind of sandwich I think. Anyway, it was just the right amount of food.

We went back to our hotel room for what was supposed to be a brief nap, but which turned into a long nap. So we had to change our plans again a little bit - putting off the Pompidou Centre until the next day, and just going out for dinner.

But again, what a nice dinner. Leon de Bruxelles is the closest thing to fastfood in Paris (unless you go to McDonalds) - mussles and frites and Belgian beer. Yummy! Filling, tasty, and pretty cheap.

More in the next installment...

Are sunsets overrated?

Well, I checked the weather forecast for Paris for the time we are going to be there, and it is mostly clouds with temperatures in the 60s. So it looks like we might not see any of those famous Paris sunsets over the Seine. But I'm sure we will find plenty other things to fire our romantic imagination and get us in the mood if that's where we want to be.

Final preparations are underway for me: laundry tonight, filling in some of the last gaps in the itinerary, that kind of thing. When I left my office this afternoon, I could feel it: I'm already on vacation. I can do anything I can imagine or nothing. I can sleep in all my clothes and spend the day mostly naked. I can read books or stare at the ceiling. I can contemplate the universe or the hairs in my nose.

And for me, the challenge is to try to rearrange my sleep cycle a little bit. See, when I take airplane flights to Europe, I can never sleep. I'm too excited, and also, I'm used to being up way past midnight anyway, so if the plane lands at 7am in France, to my body that would normally be about the time I would want to sleep.

The websites I read about how to sleep on planes all said, don't take drugs. Instead, get up as early as you can, have a full long day before you get to the airport, so that by the time you are on the plane, you'll be ready to sleep. Which means for me to get up at 6am tomorrow and be up all day, without a nap, until my 9:45p departure from JFK airport. We'll see how it works.

I just get so excited when I'm traveling. It's just the most fun thing to discover new countries and cultures and see history right in front of you. Even after I get to Europe, I sometimes have some trouble sleeping. Like the last time I went to Spain. I didn't get to my hotel until like 1pm, on pretty much no sleep, and it was hot, and my room wasn't ready. So I dropped off my luggage, went for a walk, bought a cold drink from a cart, sat down in the shade and immediately passed out. I woke up an hour later, went back to the hotel, checked into my room, unpacked a little, and passed out again, this time for a few hours.

Finally, I woke in the evening, took a nice shower, put on some clean clothes and went out to search for food. Some take-away from a kebab place, procured, it was back to my room to watch, what else, the US Open tennis tournament for a few hours, then a movie. Then I couldn't get to sleep. So I read a book, finally going to bed around 5am Madrid time, and by the next day, I was finally on a somewhat normal sleep schedule.

The difference this time is that I'm traveling with someone. So hopefully whatever happens with my sleep won't bother her too much. But I think that will work out ok. Therese doesn't sleep too much, so I bet she'll be doing some reading and exploring while I snooze, whatever time it is that I end up snoozing.

And the most important thing is to be on vacation, and do somewhere between everything and nothing, enjoying each other's company while we do it. For what else would be the point of traveling with somebody, especially someone you love, other than to share whatever you end up doing with each other. It could be peeling a grape or getting lost, but sharing it with another makes it special.

In the midst of life is death

In just a couple of days I am leaving for a trip to Paris for 5 days with my girlfriend Therese. Part of the reason I am posting is to get back into the swing of posting, with the idea that I will do some blogging while I am on vacation, to let you know about the adventures we are having in France.

But I also in the middle of all this excitement acknowledge that I am also feeling a great deal of sadness these days, as a roommate of mine goes through her last days after undergoing treatment for breast cancer for about a year. Her West Coast family members are here in New York with her in the hospital, and the end is near. She is a very private person and for a long time she expressed to me that she preferred I not share her struggle with people. But at this point, I feel it is doing a disservice to her not to say something about her since she is important to me.

We have never been very close friends. She has rubbed me (and my other roommate) the wrong way on a regular basis during the time we have shared an apartment. She is very proud and a bit of a control freak, so that attempts to reach out to her and give her a hand with things were often rebuffed. She would love to tell us at great length about the dramas going on in her life, and it wasn't always clear whether she cared very much what was going on in our lives.

Nevertheless, she is a very intelligent person, a person with many interests similar to my own. At one time we used to watch episodes of Battlestar Gallactica, a tv science fiction series, together, for example. After she displayed some jealousy toward me when I started dating somebody, I rooted for her to find a boyfriend. She is definitely someone like many New Yorkers who needs a sounding board, someone she can share with all the little things going on in her life, and it seemed like that has often been lacking.

So when she became ill, I was rooting for her very hard, and I was happy to lend a sympathetic ear to her and listen to the trials and tribulations of negotiating the minefield of health care and hospitals and doctors. And for a long time, she seemed to be almost holding her own - if she was slipping, it was so gradual as to be almost undetectible.

Recently that all changed. She came home from a trip to the hospital a different person. I hoped that my sense that she was spiralling downward was wrong. But sure enough, things were not going well. And now, it is just a matter of time.

There are all the logistics to eventually grapple with - paying the rent and utilities, applying the security or returning it to a family member, clearing out her belongings, eventually thinking about getting a new roommate in. All those things I will deal with when I return from my trip. Everything will be sorted out in time.

One last point. I thought of an ironic coincidence or parallel. Four years ago, my cat Hobbs was deathly ill and ended up dying less than a week before I left for a vacation to the Southwest U.S. with a previous girlfriend. He struggled for a long while with illness, but in his last week all of a sudden his body was riddled with cancer.

Here again, I am going away, carrying with me the sadness of knowing someone who is at the end, who took a dramatic downturn. Until a week or so ago, she was telling me about optimistic diagnoses, about further treatments that were expected to turn the tide for her. Now her body is so riddled with cancer there is nothing to be done.

It's a cliche, life being a miracle. Something that can be snatched from us in a moment. Every moment a gift. It feels idiotic to even bring up these cliches at a time like this. But the older you get, the more you see all the people who mean something to you, all the things that mean something to you, disappearing. And our own bodies grow frail and begin to fail us. So I for one will celebrate life while it remains the arena in which I operate, knowing that one day things will be different. Or to quote Walt Whitman, "the powerful play [still] goes on, and [I] may [yet] contribute a verse."

The fitfalls of exercising the analytic mind

One night recently I was coming home rather late, and I entered my street and was immediately met by a large crowd of 20-something caucasian men and women. Many were talking to each other, a couple were smoking cigarettes.

I found myself inclined to make sense of this. Could they be a group of friends out for a stroll? Unlikely, since there were probably 15 of them. Could they have all left a party on my street and be on their way to the subway to go home. Probably a more likely scenario.

And I detected in myself the impulse to take a rather harsh view of this group of people. I though something like, "hmmm, young poseurs all impressed with themselves, thinking they're cool because they're going out to swank parties on a Saturday night and living in New York City and such."

But I caught myself making that assessment, and I countered it by thinking, "you know I really don't know anything about any of these people. They have just as much right to live in New York City and enjoy everything the City has to offer as I do!"

It's typical of us intellectual sorts to make snap judgments, often very judgmental and cynical, like I did just then. We are encouraged to do that when we are in college. He who cannot come up with a pithy snide remark about something they've just observed and enunciate their observation in a few seconds is likely to not get ahead in school, and later on to be considered boring and possibly even stupid.

But as I have grown older and learned to appreciate things in a different way than when I was a 20-something, I have grown suspicious of that impulse to put things in boxes.

I remember, for example, being a music student in college, and sometimes going to concerts with our professors, and feeling annoyed to have to be on my toes and give short but well-though out reactions to the music we had just heard. Being able to make comments like that meant that I had to listen in a different way, searching for features that I could describe later on. For me, it pretty much ruined my experience of the music. I wanted to let the music wash over me, get into my bones, stimulate my emotions, to become personal for me. Analyzing it so I could impress the professor afterward kept the music at a distance, reduced it to parts and features rather than a whole experience full of touching moments.

And I guess therein lies my objection to the analytical way of approaching getting to know things and people. It keeps those people and things at a distance, and how can you really speak about something intelligently from a distance? How can I have anything meaningful to say about a person, unless I have surrendered myself to getting to know them, listened carefully to what they have had to say, unless I have grown to care for them?

We all of us don't really get to know that many people in a deep meaningful way in our lifetimes. And yet we feel entitled to assess many people who we really truly know very little about. I think that's unfortunate. I think there is very little that is as satisfying as getting to know a person. Treating them as if they are the most interesting person in the world, asking probing questions and really listening to their answers with interest and curiousity, not snapping to judgments but withholding judgment, taking the time to give them the respect and consideration they deserve. We usually do this only with our romantic partners, and a few friends, and maybe a close family member. But most often, we convince ourselves that we know somebody before we have really done the work (and play) necessary to really get to know them.

I'm sure I will never stop using this brain of mine, trying to make quick assessments of what I see around me. But I will also be increasingly skeptical of the results of my assessment. There are few people who are not deserving of the time and effort it takes to really get to know them. The only sad thing is that our time on earth is so short that, even if we work very hard doing that, we will only get to know a handful of people in that deep, satisfying, loving way.

All good things must come to an end: Saturday, March 20 in Miami

So Friday night after Ade and Anthony dropped me off at the hotel, I decided to go for a walk. I wanted to get a soft drink or two, and maybe a snack or two, and also to see the Ocean Drive scene. So I set out and took a nice long walk, ending up at the Walgreens where I bought some Vitamin Water, Oreos with Double Stuff and Vanilla Zingers.

I surfed the tv for a passable channel, popped open a drink and the Oreos, and after eating a couple of cookies, I promptly started feeling sick. Funky throat, inflamed synuses, achy body. It was crazy - just like someone had flipped a switch from "healthy" to "ill." Apparently running myself ragged, smoking and drinking every day, had finally taken its toll on me, but that second Oreo cookie was the straw that broke the camel's back. Amazing!

Of course I immediately put the cookies aside, drank a vitamin C drink, and then sucked down like two Vitamin Waters as well as some Advil. Surely, I could nip this thing in the bud! But even after a long deep sleep, I still felt sick when I woke up in the morning. In fact, I felt worse. Noooooo! I didn't want to go back to New York sick! Oh drat.

Well, one thing was for sure. I still wanted to go with Ade and Anthony to Cuenca's in the evening for their CAO event party. I wouldn't smoke, I would stay outside the shop in the fresh air, not drink any alcohol, and it would be fine! Until they called me to come pick me up, I would be able to just lay in bed all day, rest, take more advil, and hopefully that would make me ALL better. Yeah right.

After an afternoon of lying around watching bad tv and eating leftovers from my hotel room fridge, and drinking more vitamin waters, I did in fact feel a little better, well enough to at least go out. I had like no energy and my throat was funky but I had a little bit of an appetite and I could talk without pain. So when Ade called me to say he and Anthony were on the way to pick me up, I was ready.

Of course with it being Saturday night, there was hideous traffic in South Beach. It took at least half an hour just for us to go from 15th Street to 5th street. OMG, hideous. Once we got onto the causeway leading over to downtown Miami, things got better. After that, it was simple. Up 95 to exit 20, Hollywood Blvd., then down Hollywood Blvd. to 20th avenue, then a right and a left and Cuenca Cigars was on our right. Hooray! It was buzzing there, with lots of people sitting at sidewalk tables in front of the cigar shop.

First order of business for me was to find something to eat. All they had in the shop was a couple pieces of cold pizza. Ade went for the pizza, while I opted for Thai food from across the street and Anthony went to pick up a burger. The seafood soup and Pad Thai with tofu I had was just the right thing, soothing to my throat and body.

Next up, was I actually going to buy some CAO? Originally, the event was supposed to be for La Traviata, but the CAO rep called in sick, so Ana and Miguel had expanded it to include all CAO. Ade and I zeroed in on the CAO Champions collection, a zippered travel humidor filled with ten highly-rated CAO cigars in it, plus a free sampler that came with it. Ade was interested in the cigars, and I wanted the humidor. It was a deal!

And I decided to smoke after all, against my better judgment. A Macanudo 1968 Gigante. I only got about a third of the way through it, but that was enough. My Florida smoking was done. Final tally: something like 30 cigars in 17 days, with only one day off from smoking that whole time. Crazy. Most I've ever smoked, and probably ever will again. Not like I was forcing myself to do it - I enjoyed most of the cigars - but that just isn't me. Once a week or so is plenty for me.

So we hung out, talked with Anthony, Kat and a bunch of other regulars who were there. Then it was time for the raffle. And what do you know? I won an oval black CAO ashtray! Really sexy shiny one. Cool!

And that was about it! Anthony and Ade drove me back to South Beach. We got off at the Walgreens and I bought some more soft drinks. I was leaving in the morning so I didn't want to stay up late. I said goodbye and went home to bed. The next morning was a warm sunny one. I packed in no time, got my taxi and was off for home. An airplane and a taxi later, I was back sitting in this very chair, at my laptop, catching up on my emails. Here I am now nearly two weeks later still catching up! I still have some cigars to give to Sandi from Berta Bravo and Maria Martin. I'll probably never catch up. The only thing to do is to go back to Tampa, Miami or both? Well which? Do I have to make up my mind?

March 19: Cuenca Cigars and Cuban Crafters

I slept like a log on Thursday night, and did not feel like getting up on Friday. But eventually I rolled out of bed, had a little breakfast in my room, and met Kevin downstairs on the front porch where he was smoking a cigar before getting in his taxi and heading to the airport. We talked a little about Thursday, and the trip as a whole, and he reiterated how much he regretted leaving early. I tried not to say anything to make him feel even worse, but my mind was already on how I was going to occupy myself for the last two days in Miami.

Of course, a lot depended on Ade and Anthony. If they were going somewhere, I would join them. So after Kevin left, I went back to my room and waited to hear from Ade. I was in no hurry since I was feeling a little tired. The first thing I heard from him was that we would head out around 2:30, and go to Cuenca Cigars in Hollywood. That was fine with me. I was sitting at my desk nibbling on some leftovers, watching tv, not motivated to do anything strenuous, when my phone rings. It's Ade wanting to know if I'm ready to go now. He and Anthony will pick me up. So I scramble, and get downstairs in plenty of time - their hotel was a long distance from mine.

It took us some time to get to Cuenca but we still got there during the afternoon, and met with a very warm reception from Ana and Miguel, the couple who own and run the store. They presented us with cigars to start things off: some Montecristos for Anthony and Ade and an Alec Bradley for me. Mine was really good. We sat down in the comfortable circle of chairs in the front of the shop along with some regulars and we immediately felt right at home. Regulars like Kat and Anthony and John were very friendly towards us. We drank Cuban coffee and smoked and talked. Very nice.

Miguel was busy with all kinds of things so we didn't talk to him much. Ana sat and chatted with us as much as she could, in between helping customers. She told us about her life - how she came to NYC from Cuba as a 27 year old in the early 1990s, lived in NYC for 10 years, learned English, and then moved to Florida right before 9/11/01. She met Miguel in Florida and they've been together ever since.

She made an interesting analogy between relationships and smoking. She had a long-time boyfriend who she came to NYC from Cuba with but eventually they broke up. When she broke up, she felt like she needed a break, and she specifically felt like she didn't want to date a Cuban man again. She didn't want to date a man just because she was feeling lonely, missing her old boyfriend.

At the same time, she had been a cigarette smoker and had quit smoking. She was interested in cigars, but she didn't want to start smoking them as a substitute for cigarettes. She wanted to really get the cigarettes out of her system, so if she started cigars, it would be a new thing.

So eventually a friend introduced her to Miguel. At first she was resistant because he was Cuban. But then she met him and got to know him and it just felt right. And I gather that he is the one who has taught her about cigars. So you see, with relationships as with smoking, in order to be ready for the good new thing, you have to really process and get the previous thing out of your system. Very sensible.

They have a really nice store, you know, a storefront, nothing huge, maybe 15 feet wide with shelves on both walls and I don't know, maybe 40 or so feet deep, with a little room in the back for a desk or two, and a table with a coffee machine and such. There's kind of a room behind there which I guess they could make into an outdoor garden area. But they don't want to expand too fast or do too much. With the economy the way it is, right now they are doing well, but they don't want to get too ambitious and find themselves in a bad spot.

Miguel told us his story as well, although he doesn't speak too much English so Ana had to translate. He was running a company in Cuba, I think it was telecommunications, and had taken it from nothing to like 38 million in revenue. A party boss in his 70s came to visit Miguel and asked him, "how is it a young guy like you, a nobody, can build this company up like this, have all this success, and you're not a member of the party?"

Miguel knew he had to be careful what he said. He said, "well, I was born after the revolution, so all I have known my whole life is the good that has come out of the revolution, not the bad that came before." The old man seemed satisfied. But not long after, Miguel was transferred to run a subsidiary of the company in Mexico which wasn't doing anything.

Once again, Miguel built the company up, so that it was making revenue of like 2 million dollars. So he got a call from Cuba telling him to come home so they could meet with him. He started making preparations to fly back home. But then a friend called him and said "you better not come back to Cuba. If you do, they will take everything away from you, and maybe noone will see anything of you anymore!" So when Miguel went to the airport, right before his plane took off, he left the gate and got on another plane going to Cancun.

He stayed in a little spare room in a hotel with a tv and a bed for like a month, and then after that he found a way to go to the US. And he's been here ever since. Incredible, huh?

So we were getting hungry, and it was time to go to the second event of the day, the Friday night dinner, dominos tournament, music, dancing, etc. at Cuban Crafters. We drive down there, and walk in and we are immediately treated like kings again! Wine, food, Don Kiki sits with us and brings us another Cuban Crafters cigar to try, all these people come by and everyone has to meet us. Tony Borhani of Bahia Cigars stops by with his girlfriend and says hello, and before we know it we are all getting Bahia Cigars to try. Berta and Emilio are there with us, and then Berta's niece Grace shows us wearing a beautiful blue Guayabera dress. We're all eating and drinking and smoking cigars, and then the music starts - a dj with a piano and a guy on the drums. So of course then we start dancing. Emilio and Berta were dancing up a storm. I went out there and danced a bit even though I didn't really know what I was doing. But hey, I gave it a shot. Later, Ade and Anthony did some dancing too.

The evening really flew by. Before we knew it, it was time to leave. We were sad to say goodbye to Berta, Emilio and Grace. Berta said she might come to NY in June with Don Pepin and Janny Garcia. We are keeping our fingers crossed. It would be so killer to see Berta in NYC!

March 18, conclusion: Dinner with Camacho

Dinner was great. We arrived there having already had a very full long day, ready to relax and eat some good food. STK was a really nice looking restaurant. Berta and Emilio were still there with us, as we met our hosts, Maria Martin and Dylan Austin, as well as Carlos and Anelys. Before we sat down to dinner, Maria set to divvying up free cigars for each of us, 5 per person.

What? More cigars? Wow. You know, I wore a suitjacket that day, to look nice and also so that I would have some pockets. Well, I was running out of pocket space. For those of you scoring at home, that was 14 cigars I acquired, of which I only paid for 2, plus there were two more that I smoked during lunch (the Medina 1959s). Plus there were business cards, and various other pieces of paper and whatnot. My jacket was packed to the gills.

Luckily my stomach was more or less empty. Because dinner was lots of good food. Appetizer salads, one shrimp with avocado (almost like a ceviche), another one whose content I've forgotten. Warm bread with olive oil. Then the main course, a t-bone steak, a big one, with mixed mushrooms and asparagus on the side. Others had mac and cheese and creamed spinach. And lots of wine, cabernet I think, throughout.

The evening concluded with a visit to the rooftop bar/pool area for a casual smoke. Since it was getting rainy and kinda cold and everyone was tired, we didn't stay for too long, maybe an hour at most. Maria gave me the leftover cigars to share with ladies in the G&S back home - my exec decision is to give them all to Sandi.

Finally, we were driven back to our hotel. The next day Kevin was leaving around noon, and that was sad. Plans were for the rest of us to go back to Cuban Crafters - I wasn't sure what else Ade might be planning. I was going to see Kevin off at the very least.

March 18, part 3: Lunch and Tour at Cuban Crafters

We arrived at Cuban Crafters, a large cigar store/warehouse/lounge/restaurant, to discover that a table was laid out ready to serve us lunch. Miguel Freire, the store's manager, was joining us for lunch.

But before we ate, there would be wine and cigars. Most of us had red wine, except for Ade and Kevin. At each end of the table was a small box with robusto cigars, the Medina 1959, a Cuban Crafters brand, and then a second small box with Cuban Crafters cutters and Macanudo 1968 duo-flame torch lighters.

The Medina robusto was a very nice cigar. While we smoked and drank, we talked about the insanity of the current anti-smoking climate. Miguel aka Mike told jokes. Everyone was in a good mood, I mean a really good mood. We felt like we could've stayed at that table just smoking and talking the rest of the day. But we were getting hungry. The lunch fare was simple but hearty. Some people had Cuban wraps. I had chorizo with french bread and pickles.

It was time for our tour. Did we really have to move? Well, once we got going it would probably get easier. We walked through their humidor room, and picked out some cigars to purchase. Then we followed Mike as he led us upstairs a couple of flights to where their cigars were stored. Then we walked through their shipping and internet and phone orders departments.

Finally, it was back downstairs to finish up and make our purchases. Only to discover that the four cigars I had picked out were free. What? More free cigars? Wow, I could get used to that.

Oh and btw, we were really late for meeting Maria and the Camacho folks. We were supposed to meet them at 4, and now it was gonna be more like 7 by the time we reached the restaurant. Well, that didn't bother us much. We were having a good time.

Thursday, March 18, part two: at the Guayabera Lady's shop

If I haven't already said this, let me just state the obvious: that we felt like we were being treated like royalty. Two professional artists and independent businesspeople were taking a day out of their schedule to show us around the cigar spots of Miami, taking us back scenes where others may not get to go, introducing us to the people who make things happen. I don't know how the others felt, but I just could hardly believe it. All I could do was go with it, take it in. Wow, this was fun.

So we arrived at the Guayabera Lady's shop. And our time there was just more of the same. There were glasses of wine for all of us. Every little detail was pointed out to us. We asked questions. Not only were all Berta's wonderful designs there, men's clothing on one side of the shop and women's on the other. But also there were numerous unique collaborative designs between Berta and Emilio, one-of-a-kind works of art. For example, a beautiful white scarf on which Emilio had painted all in black. Breathtakingly beautiful things. A pair of boots on which he had painted designs.

In the middle of the store was one of the few things NOT created by Emilio and Berta: a custom-made domino table. We kept our wine glasses there while we shopped and talked. We were told we would meet the man who created this table later. And there was another handmade table hanging on a wall without its legs, which was decorated with a photo of Emilio's painting of the Guayabera Lady.

And yes, people were shopping. Kevin bought a Guayabera for himself and something for his wife. Ade bought two Guayaberas, a black one and a charcoal gray one. Anthony tried one or two on, but decided not to buy. I was tempted, but decided I want to be a little slimmer before I get one so it will look better on me, and fit me better.

All this time, we were getting tantalizing glimpses of Emilio's art - after all, Berta's shop is filled with his work, including the original painting he did of the Guayabera Lady. And he presented us with a very special gift - posters of one of his paintings from a Miami exhibit, signed by him. Wow! That all just whet our appetites to see his gallery nextdoor.

It was just one large room, but three walls were filled with his paintings, and we were enveloped in the feelings that his art brings to you. His art is warm, it is vibrant, it is sensual, his paintings all have a very sunny disposition, they are full of energy and strong colors. We were all really lucky to see these paintings all hanging in one place like this. You know, so often, you see art and you know you're expected to go "ooh" and "aah" and talk about how much you like it, when you may not be feeling it at that moment. Well, it was easy to ooh and aah over Emilio's work, because it was a joy to see his sensual paintings of flowers and animals and beautiful women and all the stereotypical Cuban iconography that fill his canvases.

OMG, we were already late for lunch at Cuban Crafters! But what was time for us, really? You could have left us for hours anywhere along the path of our journey and we would've been happy. Our senses were overwhelmed with the wonder of everything we were seeing. So lunch is next? OK, let's do lunch. We were ready for anything. And we knew that no matter how much we had done and seen, there was more to come!

Thursday, March 18: G&S in Little Havana with Berta Bravo the Guayabera Lady and Emilio Sauma the Artist!

Now where was I? Oh yes. So Thursday morning I got up at what I thought was a pretty early hour for being on vacation, maybe 8am, only to discover a text from Kevin saying he had already been to the Walgreens and gotten money from the atm there and also fruit and beverages. And the text was sent to me at 6:50am! Holy mackerel!

Well, I got myself together and made my own trip to the Walgreens and met Kevin downstairs on the front porch of the hotel, and we waited for Ade and Anthony to join us and for Berta and Emilio to come pick us up and take us on our adventure! Of course everything started a little later than we expected, but when you're as excited as we were every minute seems like an eternity waiting for the fun to start!

But before we knew it there we were in the back seat of a classy Mercedes on our way to Little Havana with Emilio driving and Berta Bravo the Guayabera Lady herself in the front passenger seat. What a thrill it was to meet her in the flesh. We were all talking a mile a minute and I can't even tell you what we talked about, but it was thrilling. Anthony and Ade were following us in their car.

The first stop was the Don Pepin Garcia factory on Calle Ocho and 11th Ave. Janny Garcia, daughter of the famed Don Pepin, was going to meet us there but was called away, so one of the managers of the factory showed us around. We saw their rollers working feverishly, rolling cigars I believe for the Aroma de Cuba brand. This Miami factory with 12 rollers (6 rows of two rollers each) crammed into a fairly standard storefront sized room represents a very small part of the total Garcia production - most of it is done in their factory in Nicaragua. But still, to us it was very significant, and we were excited to see real rollers, real craftspeople, not one or two, but a whole room filled with them, mostly women, all working together, creating cigars. Wow.

The manager pointed out to us one wiry middle-aged gentleman who was putting wrappers and caps onto Lanceros, a long slender cigar which is very popular nowadays, but is very difficult to roll. It is hard to create a satisfying, rich smoke in a thin cigar. This man we watched started rolling cigars when he was 13, in Cuba of course, and has been doing it for more than 50 years! And he is one of the few people living who knows how to properly make a Lancero. Ade asked how to say "magic hands" in Spanish, and when someone told him "manos de magica" he repeated it, and the man smiled and we all laughed. He stopped for a moment and shook some of our hands and we thanked him for letting us watch him work.

And the beginning of the generosity was already evident. Before we left the Don Pepin factory we were each asked what we liked to smoke, and then given three free Don Pepin cigars appropriate to our taste! I was ready to buy some cigars! I got some Cuban Classic robustos. There was also little cigar butt key chains hanging from a display, and when we said something about them, they started giving those out for free too (I didn't take one of them).

The next stop was the El Credito factory, where La Gloria Cubana cigars are made. Here the first room was a fairly large store, with every cigar in the La Gloria line in boxes on shelves all around us, including several I did not recall ever seeing in New York! We walked fairly quickly through that room to get to the important room, where the rollers were at work. This room was much larger than the one in the Garcia factory, so each roller had a lot more room. I didn't count how many there were, but I would guess it was more than 12, and there were a couple of rolling tables that were idle at that moment.

Kevin thought he recognized one of the rollers as a man who appears at the Las Vegas Big Smoke seminar on rolling cigars, teaching cigar lovers how to roll. He asked about it, and sure enough, that was the man. So we went over and let him know that Kevin had recognized him, and he was amused to learn this. We took some pictures. We also noticed a couple of the women rollers smoking cigars, and our host pointed out to us that while people are allowed to smoke cigars while they roll, they cannot wear cologne or perfume of any kind or anything that would affect the cigars, since tobacco readily absorbs odors of whatever is around it.

Before we left El Credito, Kevin and I had to buy some of these La Gloria shapes or vitolas that we never see in NYC, namely a big sized torpedo, maybe 6-1/2 by 60, called a Reserva Figurado. Kevin bought a couple maduros and I bought a couple with natural wrappers.

Our next stop was to be Berta's shop in Coral Gables, but first we needed a break. We were treated to some Cuban coffee and other refreshments. Anthony had a papaya and Ade had a Jugo de Cana or Guarapo, while Kevin just had coffee, a little thimble sized amount, a couple of sips of sweet strong Cuban coffee. I had both coffee and a Guarapo, and Berta got a kick out of the fact that when I repeated the name of the cane juice drink, I rolled the "r" - Guarrrapo.

On our way to Berta's shop in the car, Berta asked us why we had bought those particular La Gloria cigars, so we told her that we can't get them in NYC. So of course Berta called her friend who is the sales rep for La Gloria on speakerphone and had us tell her about these cigars we can't get in New York! This sales rep person said she would talk to whoever was responsible for New York and make sure we would be able to get those cigars there in the future.

(Of course, as I thought more about it, I remembered that I HAVE seen these cigars in NYC, but just once, about a year ago at Cigar Inn. I smoked one with a natural wrapper. A pretty nice, but strong cigar)

In the next post I will tell you about our second stop that day, at the Guayabera Lady's shop!

Wednesday, March 17th: G&S together finally on St. Patty's Day!

The two of us managed to get up nice and early on Wednesday. It was St. Patty's Day, but we didn't really care about that. We also didn't care that it was raining, and due to rain all day long. We wanted to get back to Little Havana. So we hopped on the bus, conscious of keeping our eyes and ears open for any texts from Ade. The Little Havana bus, the 208, actually went along Flagler going west, and we saw the Padron store, so on the spur of the moment, we got off the bus there on Flagler.

The new Padron store is actually around the corner from the one we saw, on SW 1st Street and SW 16th Avenue (remember Miami is chopped into four quadrants - NE, SE, NW and SW - so you always have to know which one you're in to be able to know how to get where you want to go).

Man, the entrance to the Padron store makes it look like some kind of Spanish plantation. All that iron grill and colored tile flooring. Very cool. And one of those big rooster sculptures!

Inside, there was a receptionist who had to call somebody to come out and help us. And wouldn't you know it, they only sell boxes, not singles there! But the fellow who helped us admitted they had some samplers also we could buy, and we finally settled on a sampler of 5 cigars for around $30 - not too bad. But no beverages! either complimentary or for sale. Oh well, no matter, at least there was a large flatscreen tv and some beautiful leather chairs and couches.

So we sat there and smoked, and Kevin looked for the Major League Baseball channel, without success. He never did find it on any of the tvs of any of the places we went in Miami, for some reason.

After finishing at Padron, we hopped back on the bus and took it to Calle Ocho to look for a place to eat. It took a little wandering, but we found a nice Colombian restaurant called San Pocho. Wow, good food and a lot of it. I had the traditional Colombian dish (I forget the name) - grilled steak, an egg, rice and beans, avocado and corn cake, plus I ordered a side of chorizo. Kevin had pork chop and rice and beans - two huge chops. Plus we both had a glass of wine. We were very happy leaving there with doggy bags in hand and heading on the bus back to South Beach.

It was still early in the afternoon, but we wanted to be there in case we could hook up with Ade and Anthony. Unfortunately, we learned that Ade had had trouble renting a car. So for the time being we went off on our own, taking Maria Martin's advice to explore Ocean Drive.

The Palm trees full of coconuts were pretty cool, and of course all the sidewalk restaurants filled with spring breakers and people just generally having a good time made for a festive atmosphere. I saw News Cafe which I had heard about, so I suggested we sit down there and have a drink, which we did. Part of my rationale for that too was that I have never been good at smoking while I walk. Sitting at a table with a caipirinha to go with my cigar was very nice indeed. Kevin once again had a mojito. Then he suggested we get a bite of something, so we shared some coconut shrimp and spring rolls.

The whole day had been wet, and it was getting chilly, so we decided to go get jackets and dry clothes. Luckily it had stopped raining. We finally got in touch with Ade and agreed to meet at the nearby lounge on Lincoln Road, Deco Drive. We took a table outside among the hookah smokers, under a tent now protect (a little) from the wind and cold by some Tiki lamps. Kevin was smoking a CAO Amazon again, and this time I was smoking one too.

Years ago, when I first started getting serious about smoking cigars, I discovered the Amazon. It was one of the first really big, 60 ring gauge cigars I ever smoked. But when I smoked them back then, I found them to have a pretty tight draw - I had to suck hard to get any smoke out of them. So for a long time I've been avoiding the Amazon. Smoking one that night was a pleasant surprise - it was not a hard smoke, and overall I really enjoyed it. Now I wish I had bought a couple more!

But honestly, I bought so many cigars while on this trip. And I got so many free cigars too! So I'll get around to smoking another Amazon at some point. I was taking my time - I'm a slow smoker, usually - on that Amazon, when Ade and Anthony came up. Wow, it was so great for all four of us to be together. Kevin and I are different from each other, and then Ade and Anthony are from a totally different world than the two of us. But we all complement each other very well. Put us all together, and you had a quartet of relaxed, fun-loving guys having a good time.

Of course we couldn't get over the craziness of the four of us being together in Miami! And Ade wanted to hear about all that we were doing, and we were all swapping stories, as Ade was also telling me and Kevin about what had been happening in NYC in our absence.

After being there for a couple more hours, and starting to freeze, we decided to go to Five Guys for some hamburgers. We were on our way down Washington Avenue, when these ladies standing in line to get into a club called Dreams practically grabbed Anthony and Ade! In a second like 6 ladies are all around them, or was it the other way around? and Kevin and I are laughing. Wow, what a spectacle. Eventually, the two guys were able to get themselves out of the clutches of those ladies, but they swore they would go back after we ate.

Five guys was just right. Really filling, kinda greasy, just what I needed. Something tasty to finish off a long and surprisingly hectic day. And looming in front of us was tomorrow, Thursday, the highlight of the whole trip! Kevin and I walked back to the hotel to get a good night's sleep, leaving the other guys to celebrate their first night in Miami with some good old-fashioned revelry.

Little Havana, here we come! Tuesday, March 16th

So after we picked up our laundry on Tuesday morning, we were ready to head to downtown Miami and discover Little Havana and the neighborhood's main street, Calle Ocho. We stopped in a visitor's center and found out there was a bus that would take us to downtown Miami, and from there we could take a short taxi ride.

I looked through my list of cigar shops to visit, and picked out two: Perdomo on Flagler Street, and Padron on Calle Ocho itself. So when we got off the bus on Flagler street, we just started walking west, looking for Nick's Cigars, the home of Perdomo. We later discovered that Perdomo is no longer on Flagler Street, but in the meantime, we found the perfect place to have our lunch, a restaurant/cafeteria/phone store called Los Mangos.

We poked our heads in, and all the signs for food were in Spanish. The girl behind the counter spoke only Spanish as well. So she went and found the owner, who spoke good English, and he helped us a bit. The menus, it turned out, were also in English/Spanish. I know Spanish food - I grew up in a city with a huge Hispanic population, and my best friend was Puerto Rican. I wasn't sure if Cuban food is similar, but I just ordered one dish, because I had the feeling it was going to be a lot. Kevin didn't know this, so he ordered a soup and a main course.

Our food came and sure enough, it was a lot. I had Chuletas en salsa, and in addition to a couple of healthy sized pork chops, there was rice and beans and lots of fresh made tortillas and plenty of hot sauces and a dish of peppers if we wanted any spice. Kevin finished his beef soup, which came with rice and tortillas, and then also had some grilled beef with rice and beans and such. Needless to say he had leftovers.

So once we discovered that Nick's Cigars had unfortunately moved to another city(!), we took a taxi to Calle Ocho, and got out in front of the Padilla lounge. Wow, what a nice place! It is one huge room, maybe 30 by 30 feet, maybe bigger. In the front you have on one side shelves with cigars for sale and a counter right behind that. There are also lots of comfortable couches and leather chairs in the front.

Then the middle of the store/lounge is dominated by about 5 rolling stations - unfortunately the rollers had already gone home, but still this was our first time seeing cigar rolling stations in Miami, so we were excited. Alongside this center area was another huge couch and a big flatscreen tv, so we sat there to smoke our cigars - I bought a couple Padilla Dominus and Kevin got the Padilla Miami.

The young lady offered us coffee, but we had not yet had any Cuban coffee and neither one of us normally drinks coffee, so we declined. She then offered us scotch instead. Kevin still declined, but I agreed to have some scotch.

So we sat there and took in our first smoking experience in Little Havana. Not a bad way to start out - a huge beautiful place, really good cigars, and for me, some adult beverage as Kevin calls it.

After leaving there, we walked up and down the street a bit, checking out a couple of the other cigar establishments there. First, we walked into Top Cigars, where we passed a table full of older Cuban men playing dominos and then encountered the young lady working in the shop. One side of the shop had brand name cigars on shelves, while the other one had unbanded cigars which seemingly were rolled in the shop. My eyes were riveted by the biggest torpedos I've ever seen in my life - they must be 6-1/2 inches long with a ring gauge of 64 - so I bought two of those. Kevin went for something maduro. As we were deciding what to buy, the young lady led us over to a closed large chest near the back of the store. She opened it up, and it was filled with loose cigars! At first, I thought maybe they were rejects or seconds and therefore might be cheaper, but they were the same as the other cigars - they were the same things on the shelves, just loose and mixed up, and probably beat up from being mixed in with all those other cigars! Kind of a gimmicky place, but we were cool with it - when I smoke one of those huge torpedos, I'll let you know what I think.

Then we stopped in at the Bello shop. Pedro Bello Jr. was there, and he told us some of the history of his family, and how he and his father roll all the cigars in the shop. A very classy, well-appointed space, and the cigars looked really good too. He warned us that many of the shops on Calle Ocho say they roll their own cigars but they don't - only him, Bello, Don Pepin, El Credito and Titan de Bronze actually roll their own cigars right in their shops on Calle Ocho.

Kevin and I each bought a Gordo, about 5-1/2x60, and that became our evening smoke when we got back to our hotel patio - pretty nice! Mr. Bello also told us that he will be doing some taste testing up and down the east coast - I guess he wants to expand his distribution - and he wants us to email him so he can invite us when he is doing tasting in New York City. Pretty cool, huh? He also told us that with any of his cigars, we can buy them in unbanded bundles directly from him at huge discounts from what they would cost retail with bands in boxes.

I couldn't wait to come back to Calle Ocho, hopefully the next morning, to get to some of the businesses that were then closed (it was like 5:30 then) while they were open. I convinced Kevin that even though we expected Ade to arrive the next morning, we should go back to Little Havana and then perhaps he could catch up with us once he arrived.

We figured out how to get back to South Beach entirely by bus - the one that ran along Calle Ocho stopped a block from the one that went to South Beach - and we headed home, feeling like we had accomplished something really substantial. Kevin ate his leftovers for dinner, while I had another sandwich of coldcuts and condiments. But I had visions of Little Havana dancing in my head the whole time...

Recharging in Miami: Sunday and Monday, March 14 & 15

So I guess I already talked a bit about Sunday. After our horrendous flight from Tampa to Miami, and a much more comforting taxi ride to the President Hotel on Collins Avenue in South Beach, we wanted to explore. So we walked north on Collins a bit, to 21st Street or so, then turned left, walked down to Washington Avenue, then walked south on Washington a bit. Then back to Collins, stopping at a Walgreens to get beverages, then at Jerry's Deli for cold cuts, bread, pickles and cole slaw to make a simple dinner back in our hotel rooms (actually, we ate together in Kevin's room).

So as I said before, this hotel was kinda way out there. All white, but with green blown up photos of leaves adorning a wall of each room. Kevin's room was a little more posh than mine - he had a walk-in closet, a big bathroom, a round bed(!) and a second chair, which was a soft cloth covered chair in the shape of a large leaf(! again). That was where I sat whenever we hung out together. Also his tv was either a little fancier than mine or a little newer, since he seemed to get more channels and overall better reception.

So we ate our simple dinner and watched a movie and talked a little about the next couple of days. We had an invitation from this guy Sherwin to go to his shop in Weston way up near Fort Lauderdale, and he was offering to pick us up in Miami and bring us up there. We also wanted to visit Forcade Cigars, run by the Forcade sisters, Annia and Chistrian. But we decided to take it easy on Monday and maybe do those things Tuesday and Wednesday.

Monday morning I googled cigar shops in South Beach on my phone, hoping we might find some nice places to smoke besides our lovely patio (not that the patio wasn't a great place to smoke, but we were all by ourselves, and I figured it might be cool to find a place where other folks go to smoke their cigars in South Beach). I found a bunch, and went exploring while Kevin was sleeping in a bit. Some of the ones I found were, upon exploring, no longer in existence, but I did find a cool spot on Lincoln Road called Deco Drive Cigars, a smallish lounge with a nice humidor room and lots of outdoor tables with hookahs and such.

I went to Jerry's Deli for breakfast, expensive eggs and bacon and tomato juice, and in popped Kevin. He had gotten information from our hotel desk person on where to do our laundry, so we went back, got our clothes and dropped them off at a cleaner on 12th Street. Our minds now at ease with our one chore of the day accomplished, we decided to walk down Washington Avenue a ways and then come back up Collins.

On Washington we didn't see too much. The old City Hall was pretty impressive - Kevin took some pictures - and there were some interesting looking restaurants and beachware stores, but that was about it. So when we got to about 5th street, we turned back up Collins. We'd heard there was a shopping district down there, but it turned out to be a lot of the chain stores you see in New York City or just about any other city or shopping mall, so we weren't very impressed.

Just about the time we were getting tired and in need of a break from the sun, we passed the Webster, a building that has a new French restaurant in its lobby and a fashion boutique on two floors, an art gallery on its third floor and a rooftop bar. I thought it might be interesting to look at some clothes, and Kevin sank into a comfortable couch while I marveled at fine cotton shirts costing hundreds of dollars and ladies dresses costing thousands. I talked quite a bit with the clerk, a very nice young French fellow who told me all about the shop and a lot about himself also.

He then offered to show us the roof, and it did look like a really great place to have a drink. Kevin and I told him about our reasons for visiting Miami, mainly cigars, and he told us the restaurant had a selection of cigars, although we could only smoke on the terrace outside. So we went back downstairs and looked at their selection, which was nice but small, and I decided a drink might be nice, so we sat at the bar and relaxed, me with a caipirinha, Kevin with a mojito, and chatted for a while with the bartender, a typically nice talkative bartender. My drink was really good, but Kevin's not so great - there was hardly any mint in it. But it was the perfect thing to relax with a drink in the early afternoon, feeling like we could do anything we wanted to, or just do nothing at all!

We left there and I thought it would be a good time to take him to the cigar lounge on Lincoln Road, so we walked the few blocks up there. We walked straight into the lounge and into the walk-in humidor and were followed by a dark-haired French woman who was working in the lounge at that moment. Well, by the time we walked out of the lounge 15 minutes later, we felt as if we were all good friends. Of course we started out with her asking us what kind of cigars we usually smoke. She tried to steer us toward some Don Pepin cigars, but we figured since we were going to be going to the Pepin factory, we should smoke something else. Kevin saw CAO Amazons, so he took a couple of those. I noticed a couple of Camacho 6x60s, one a Connecticutt and the other some sort of Colorado one, and that's what I selected. Kevin took one of the darker ones also.

Of course while we were doing this, we were engaging in a continuous stream of witty banter with the French woman. We told her a bit about the big extravaganza on Thursday, and she tried to invite herself along, but we explained that it was not within our power to bring any extra people with us. Then as we were purchasing our cigars, she told us how she smoked cigars in her apartment even though her landlord didn't want her to. Her reasoning was that since she was paying to live there, she should be able to do whatever she wanted to do in the apartment.

So then to our patio to smoke some of these newly acquired shmokes. There was a German quartet who were our only companions on the patio - they sat way at the other end of the patio, but on their way in and out they had to pass us. One woman smiled and waved and said hello, one man and one woman frowned and nodded their heads in our direction, and the other man smiled and said "chuss!"

After that, our only company was a couple of squirrels who were grabbing some sort of nuts from the palm trees in the patio and then retiring to the wall between our hotel and the next one over to eat in relative security. One squirrel dropped a bunch of nut on our side of the wall and spent a good deal of time staring down at it and contemplating jumping down to get it, but in the end he reasoned we were too much of a threat and he abandoned the lost booty.

Dinner was from the Deli: a cheeseburger for Kevin and a turkey burger for me. They were very tasty - we actually ate the first half of the food before that evening's cigars and then finished off the rest in our rooms later on.

Miraculous Miami

Well, I have returned to New York, have settled in, and am finally ready to finish the story of my trip. For anyone who was wondering what happened to me, well, things got so busy in Miami, and at the same time my crackberry decided to not let me into my blog anymore. So I couldn't blog on my phone, and Kevin was busy most nights on his laptop uploading dozens of pictures he took during the day documenting our adventures.

So let's do this one day at a time, but first I will give you a little overview. After our last several days in Tampa - basically all the days that Kevin was there with me - being very eventful, which meant that we got little sleep those days, we needed to relax and recharge our batteries when we got to Miami. And we did: Sunday we walked around South Beach a bit, and Monday we did some more walking. We discovered the nooks and crannies of our hotel, found a great patio where we could smoke our cigars in the evening in perfect comfort.

Tuesday we went to Little Havana, having a great Cuban lunch and then spending a couple hours at the Padilla lounge on Calle Ocho.

Wednesday we went back to Little Havana, this time to the Padron office/lounge, and then met up with new arrivals Ade and Anthony in the evening.

Thursday was the big day, the highlight of the week, and it did not disappoint. Berta Bravo, the Guayabera Lady, and Emilio Sauma picked us up in the morning, took us to the Don Pepin and El Credito factories, to Cuban Crafters for lunch, cigars and a tour. Then we met Maria Martin, Dylan Austin and some other Camacho people at a restaurant, STK, had a great dinner, and finished the evening having cigars at the rooftop bar.

Friday Kevin left, and Ade, Anthony and I went to Cuenca Cigars in Hollywood, met Ana and Miguel Cuenca as well as many of the regulars at the shop. Then we went back to Cuban Crafters where they were having a dominos tournament, food and music. We met Berta and Emilio there, as well as the owner, Don Kiki, and Tony Borhani of Bahia Cigars. We were treated like royalty, ate and smoked and danced. Grace, Berta's niece, came as well and we got to know her a bit and danced with her.

Saturday I didn't feel well, so I stayed in bed most of the day. But in the evening I joined Ade and Anthony for an event back at Cuenca Cigars in Hollywood. Ade and I went in together on a special sampler box of CAO Cigars, and I won a beautiful CAO ashtray.

Sunday I had to return to New York. I didn't want to! I made so many new friends, especially in Miami, and I can't wait to visit them again. I think it's time to look into making use of my frequent flyer miles!

ah now this is life!

My second weekend in Florida did not disappoint! Renaissance Faire on Saturday, traveling to Miami today, Sunday.

The faire was the usual thing - enjoying the company of my friends, beautiful weather, rat pucking, good beer, wearing renaissance garb, and yummy food!

I attended the Renaissance SMoker again, and this time Patrick was leading the bawdy humor which was especially raunchy. I don't think I can share any of those jokes with you! But the crowd of about 40 was roaring almost non-stop, and there was a lot of female-friendly jokes!

I got back to the hotel and went straight to Kevin's so he could see my faire clothing. We decided to go back to the German restaurant Mr Dunderbaks and toast cigar lounge. Sauerbraten and rot kohl for dinner w a creamy stout, then a glass of cabernet and an Alec Bradley Maxx for me.

We were both exhausted and knew we would get not much sleep but we didn't complain! I woke up early and got packed and the taxi came in just a few minutes and we got to airport in good time. We thought we were on different flights w different carriers, but not only were we on the same plane but were sitting right next to each other! Too crazy!

Omg I am happy I survived that flight! It was a prop plane and taking off and landing was HAIRY!!! Plus the seat was really uncomfortable and the flight was rough on my body, it beat me up!

But we made it to Miami! Woohoooo! Our hotel is nice but so different from the last place which was pretty conventional. This is not conventional! One wall is covered w mirror and one with a huge photo of a leaf no less than 15 by 12 feet. The door to the bathroom and closet both have panels w butterfly wings.

Kevin and I went for a walk to explore our area, Collins Ave in south Beach. We found a Walgreens to buy some sunblock and softdrinks, and a deli where we could buy some bread and cold cuts to make a simple dinner in our rooms.

But before dinner it was time for a cigar out on the patio. Wow what a cool place! Brown tiles with whicker tables and chairs, facing a bunch of palm trees shading the area and a yellow motel. Such a perfect spot to relax!

Our cigars smoked, we had our quiet dinner. Now it's time for a good sleep. Tomorrow should be a quiet day. There's a chance we might visit a lounge in Westin but otherwise we will explore our area more and do some laundry. Goodnight!

A box of Brick House!!!!!!!!

Takeout from Chilis can taste absolutely wonderful after waiting for more than an hour for a taxi. That is the latest thing I have learned.

I started the day by learning something very different, about the workings and history of the J.C. Newman factory in Tampa.

Kevin and I arrived at the Newman factory promptly at 10am. Eric Newman was on a conference call, so Human Resources person Amy took us around on a tour of the factory. We saw the women using various machines to make the cigars. In fact, at the main machine, a very nice Cuban woman kept pausing and then operating her machine so that Amy could explain every part of how the tobacco in packed into the binder and then covered with the wrapper, all done by a machine! Very cool!

And we saw the room where the huge piles of short filler tobacco are kept, and the freezer where the cigars are sent to make sure there are no bugs.

Then we were left in the lobby, while Amy went to see if Eric was free to say hello. Well, he was free, and that was the longest hello ever. He spent more than an hour giving us the whole story of his family and their cigar company, showing us into more spots that Amy had not, and then, at the end, presenting us with AN ENTIRE BOX OF BRICK HOUSE CIGARS!!!!!!!!

I was in shock for several hours after that. I don't know what happened, other than that some small children with very little knives stole all my money, all my clothes, and left me in a dirty gutter with a grubby paper towel in my mouth.

Then, in David Copperfield fashion, I walked many many miles, and a relative who didn't know I existed handed over all her money and gave me a new name. Pernicious. Yes, I know that's a horrible name.

Lunch at Tampa Bay Brewing Company followed, at which we also smoked some machine made cigars we were also given, which were not bad for machine made cigars.

It was raining during all this, raining and raining and raining. But we kept going, and we got wet, and we didn't like it. Eventually we broke down and bought umbrellas.

We took the bus in both directions to Ybor City, which we also learned how to do, which was amazing.

Upon returning to our hotel, we got ready for our evening meeting up with a local SC guy at the Tampa Humidor.

Wow, the biggest humidor I've ever seen! Tampa Humidor is big, and really cool. The owner Mike is really nice. But what else is new? All these cigar people are sickeningly nice. I'm growing to hate that in them. Tom Ufer appeared and we had a great time hanging out with him for a bit.

The only drag was when we called for a taxi and one never came. Then I called this luxury towncar place and the guy was gonna charge me $20 and I said sure, then the original taxi finally came, and I had to call the luxury guy and cancel and he wasn't happy, the poor slug.

A great day. Another great day! I mean, Eric Newman gave us a box of Brick House! Their new brand which is a revival of a very old brand. You see, the brick house was the house in Hungary where Eric's great-grandmother used to take in boarders to make ends meet. It's the place where the whole thing started! And here this new brand, which is not readily available in NYC yet, and Eric gave us a whole box. I mean, he left us near the end and said "wait right here, I'm gonna get you a couple cigars" and then he hands us an entire box, and we're thinking, "um, are all these for us?"

And they were! Eric Newman gave us a box of Brick House. And we are going to disperse them as we choose, bwwwaaaaahhhhaaaaahhhhaaaaahh!

OK, I'm getting tired. I'm going to start a new tradition. I'll call it sleep, and do it every night. And if anyone tries to stop me from doing it, I will pelt them with melting ice cubes.

A quick note after a quiet day in Tampa

Ah, the Yankees were rained out tonight! My nephew Neil met us in Ybor City and we taxied to Steinbrenner Field, but after hot dogs and hamburgers and trips to the souvenir stand, we gave it up and went to Skippers with Neil's girlfriend for a drink.

Rain put the kibosh on lots today, but not on our spirit! We relaxed, texted, blogged, watched movies that Kevin brought - Iron Man and Out to Sea - and then tackled the bus to make our way to 7th avenue and 18th street. Hit up El Sol and Nicahabana - bought some torpedos in the former and some Salomones in the latter - and ended up at King Corona. Kevin smoked a Cain with some white wine and I went for a CAO MX2 and port. Neil met us and had a Chimay and a Java.

Tomorrow morning we leave bright and early to meet Eric Newman and tour the family factory near Ybor City, followed by some lunch there and maybe some laundry back at the hotel followed by meeting some local Tampa folks at Tampa Humidor in the evening.

Now only two amigos/Wednesday concluded

Bob announced to us that he regrettably needed to head home, and could not accompany us to dinner. Hugs were exchanged and Bob was on his way.

Now just two amigos, Kevin and I put together our evening plans: a taxi to Toast, a cigar and wine bar not far from USF, followed by dinner next door at a German restaurant, Mr. Dunderbaks.

Toast was empty, so we had the smoking room with its plush chairs and flatscreen tv all to ourselves. Kevin had a Riesling and I got a glass of a Shiraz/Malbec, selected cigars from the humidor - an Alec Bradley Maxx for me, Bucanero for Kevin. Hector, the bartender/host at Toast was very nice to us, setting us up with a Big East tournament game on the tv.

Walking into Mr. Dunderbaks was like coming home for me. German beer, sauerkraut, sausages, numerous different kinds of mustard, potato salads, even ketchup infused with garlic. The best restaurant experience I've had in Tampa so far! Another place I wouldn't mind returning to! Maybe Saturday night after I attend faire I'll meet up with Kevin and go to Dunderbaks and Toast again.

So this just about brings us up to the present. Kevin spoke with the desk person and they agreed to let him smoke in his room. The rain has stopped momentarily and we are keeping our fingers crossed that we might still be able to see the Yanks play the Braves tonight with my nephew Neil.

Three Amigos in Tampa, part two

Carmine's was all we could've hoped for. Bob had a Cuban sandwich, Kevin had a sandwich/soup combo and I had baked chicken with rice and black beans side. Bob kept joking that he was going to eat most of his sandwich and then send it back and have them bring him another one. We all agreed that that was a sound strategy.

We will be going back there! For one thing, none of us had their famous deviled crab. For another, it's just a really cool place.

Next up, we stopped in La Herencia de Cuba, a shop and lounge right on 7th avenue with a roller in the window and a bar in the back, with some comfortable couches in between. We walked into their humidor - all cigars rolled on premises. Kevin selected a medium torpedo, Bob and I selected medium fat robustos.

Very relaxing place, and Kevin and I started feeling like we were definitely on vacation now! Bob mentioned that he was not on vacation, but we agreed to share some of our "on vacation" feeling with him. Bob and Kevin were enjoying their cigars, but unfortunately mine, while constructed flawlessly, was incredibly hot and bitter on my tongue and lips. I persisted in trying to smoke it, but eventually had to give up. Too bad! but it didn't dampen my spirits one bit.

After leaving La Herencia, we decided to drive to Davis Island and check out Kuba Cigars, a lounge recommended to Bob by a colleague of his wife. Really nice place! Full bar, elegant brand-new looking decor and furniture, nice selection in the walk-in humidor. I picked out a Casa Magna Oscuro toro - don't remember what Bob and Kevin smoked - and a rootbeer soda and bottle of water, and settled down into the comfortable couch with MLB network on the large flatscreen tv in front of us.

Only getting 4 hours of sleep the night before started to catch up on me. I was feeling a bit sleepy! But I wasn't alone. We were all feeling that "middle of the afternoon" feeling. We decided to drive back to our hotel and take a break, get refreshed and then figure out what to do for dinner.

three amigos in Tampa!

This morning rain is threatening and my partner Kevin is catching up on sleep, so let me catch up in what's been happening!

Bob and I met early on Wednesday to pick up Kevin at the airport. Kevin's flight was on time and then the question was whether Bob might stick around. It turned out things were quiet for his job so he was free to join us which made me very happy.

Our first stop was Ybor City. Tampa Sweethearts to be exact. Expecting to find a little storefront, I was awed by the large old factory building we found. But upon entering, we met friendly smiling faces, typical of the Fuente family and of cigar people in general.

In no time we were chatting and joking with lovely Darlene as she took us behind the scenes into the inner sanctum of Special limited samplers and hard to find Fuente goodies! And while my head was still reeling from having to choose from among all those treasures, the tour of the building began.

Darlene showed us the wall of photos of friends going back years and years while Bob was taken elsewhere to choose a Flor de Ybor sampler. Then she took us downstairs to the shipping dept and to a very special place, their walk-in humidor. It looked like a meat locker but instead of hams and sides of beef, it held rows and rows of stacks of cigars. A little like heaven to us!

At this point Arturo Jr took over the tour. He took us to another ancient looking below ground humidor and told us all about the history of Ybor City and the Fuente family in Tampa, all while moving thru the rest of the building and ending up in his office where he showed us beautiful artist renderings of the different buildings that have been home to Fuente cigars.

Our tour was sadly at an end. We made our purchases, exchanged hearty handshakes and left, feeling like we had made new friends!

It was time for lunch. On to Carmine's!

do what you've never done before

Two days of mostly new experiences.- even the old ones were new!

As in, seeing my old friend Bob, who is a different person but still the same guy I grew up around the corner from all those years ago in New Jersey.

We went to the Dali museum on Tuesday first. And I saw Dali in a new light, marveling at many things like his hologram of Alice Cooper and the hallucinogenic toreadors, a mammoth work rich with ideas and meanings.

Then we went to an Italian deli called Mazzaro's for lunch. I learned what Spanish moss is there was some of it attached to a tree in the deli's parking lot. The sausage and pepper heroes and salads full of fennel and sun-dried tomatoes were really good!

Next Bob drove me to one of his old favorite hangouts down in St Pete Beach, John's Pass, where we saw tourist-fishermen and women unloading their bounty, and then unexpectedly found a cigar shop where a father and son were rolling and a himidor filled with their works. This included elusive Candelas, cigars with green wrappers. We both bought cigars.

It was time to take a break! We drove back to Bob's hotel for cocktail hour.And we mapped out the rest of our day: dinner at a Cuban restaurant and then a visit to King Corona Cigar Lounge in Ybor City.

Dinner was plentiful and tasty! And King Corona was just right! My first cigar in Ybor was a Primo del Rey and Bob smoked an Arturo Fuente. We paired our cigars w a nice port.

Bob was staying over across the street from my hotel, so we agreed to meet the following morning for breakfast. Bob also offered to go with me to pick up Kevin Wednesday morning, which was tremendously generous of him but typical of the new person I have known for so long!

Of course we talked all day long! I told him about my cookies which I plan to sell and he told me how he makes sausage. We caught up on family stuff and lots of other stuff!

where have i been, conclusion

So to finish up talking about the Tampa Ren Faire I will talk about what is different about Tampa.

Tampa is the most free-spirited Faire I have been to so far. There's little pretense. People dress up, but in all kinds of clothing, not just renaissance stuff.- fairies, pirates, lotr characters, characters from other movies, etc.

It's a family fair but it is also a very bawdy one - salacious garb, flirting, telling stories, overall openness.

And little things show that they are not as uptight as some other faires can be. For ex, if you have a mug or tankard, at the pub they will fill up whatever you hand them regardless of size for the same price! That is cool.

I am going to faire again next Saturday so I am sure I will have more to say about it then!

Moving on...

Yesterday I went to see Avatar at the IMAX Dome at MOSI. Not 3D which was disappointing! And the image on the screen was muddy sometimes like during some of the action sequences - very disappointing! Also colors washed out - overall I still enjoyed it but not the big wow it was in imax 3d.

Mosi is 1/2 mile to the east of my hotel and 1/2 to the west is an outdoor shopping center w lots of different restaurants. I walked from Mosi to the shopping center and got some food from a Vietnamese restaurant - spring rolls and chicken w mixed veggies - not bad

Well time for me to get moving - my friend Bob is picking me up in a while and we are going to the Dali Museum in St Pete

Where I have been, part two

Vanessa subjected King Henry to her feminine wiles, and he was no match for her sweet words, her gentle tone of voice, and her gentle touch of hand. He softened his message, saying that perhaps he could make an exception for her. But the rest of us should make every effort to wean ourselves off this terrible habit. And with a shake of his head and a furrowing of his brow, the Tudor monarch left us.

Many and wondrous were the experiences had over the weekend altogether, and I am not up to task of relating them all. I can give some highlights that may serve to illustrate what made it so wondrous. I got to wear my two new outfits, which were both a big hit - on Saturday, my yellow brocade doublet with navy blue tights and a dark burgundy chaperone or cockscomb; on Sunday, my olive velour jack with dark green tights and an olive sock cap. Of the two, I would have to say that the latter was more comfortable and successful overall. The jacket has slit sleeves, so that as the weather warmed up during the day, I was able to remove my arms from them and let them hang freely.

And speaking of the weather, both days it was certainly wonderful. High 60s at the peak, plentiful sunshine, a cool breeze now and then. Usually I am sweltering at Ren Faire, but I was comfortable the whole weekend.

Food was the usual sort of thing - turkey drumsticks (tasty but smaller than others I've had), fish sandwiches and chili dogs were among the things I ate. I had heard there was a dessert cart somewhere but I never found it, which was just as well since I am trying to stay away from desserts! As for drink, I had plenty of softdrinks - iced tea, bottled lemonade, for ex. - and also a few beers, mostly a really nice bourbon cask ale they had on tap at the pub my friends prefer.

For entertainments, I just saw a couple of acts - the DaVinci Brothers, a fellow who puts on "operas" with the help of members of audience - quite charming and a lot of fun - and I saw Emrys Fleet's Rat Show which I've seen many times. Emrys just exudes kindliness, and his jokes are sometimes less funny than the way he delivers everything. He is also always a big hit at Pub Sing, the entertainment that ends the day, where all the acts get to do one piece, and lots of the music is the kind of thing the audience can sing along with. As soon as the emcee announces Emrys's name, the audience starts smiling and chuckling. You can tell that there is a lot of genuine affection for him among the regular patrons of the faire.

And of course, we puckers have a special regard for him, since he is our leader, rules maker and breaker, arbiter of disputes, chief troublemaker and all around good friend. Pucking takes place at regular times during the day, usually 10:30 (first puck) and 3:30, and there are some who like to meet unofficially and puck at 1:30 (stud puck) and 5:30 (drunken puck) as well.

My friend Steve is a master pucker, having last season won the coveted Crimson Rat (given to the winner of the tournament held on the last weekend of the Faire). His girlfriend Vanessa and our friend Sarah are among the people competing for the Crimson this season. There is also an Augusta Green rat given to grand masters - that is what Steve will be shooting for this year. I am not shooting for anything, since I am a rank amateur and won't be here for the tournament anyway. I just do it for fun. At some point, maybe I'll start to get good at it...

More later, I am sure! Time to eat my takeout Veitnamese dinner that I bought from a shopping center down E. Fowler, the street my hotel is on.

oh where have I been?

Where indeed? Trying to find somewhere to blog! I have discovered I can blog on my phone - yay! So no more waiting for the hotel pc to be free!

Today is my recovery day after two amazing, fun days at the Renaissance Faire. I am entering the movie theater shortly to see Avatar on a huge IMAX screen. My legs and back are tired but I am still buzzing from all the fun.

So I will start telling you what is what now and continue after the movie.

So Saturday afternoon a bunch of us had finished pucking when the King walked by. We bowed respectfully. The King's brow and he barked at us, "have you been pucking???"

We admitted that we had, and the King grumbled what an unseemly pursuit pucking is and began telling us to swear an oath to never do it again!

What would we do? We couldn't disobey the king! But neither could we give up our favorite Faire pastime!

Without a word, Vanessa leapt into action.