Yes, 10 years thence, I've decided to toss some thoughts into the diary-o-sphere. Stream of consciousness opinions, observations, and cetera. Please follow me to the land below the spirograph.
My beloved 14 year old son is sleeping the sleep that only 14 year-old's can muster, it's 94 degrees here on the Florida Panhandle (home of a glorious beach that I see perhaps every other year), I'm enjoying the Facebook clutter espousing (or eschewing) memes regarding recent Supreme Court decisions, and sneaking furtive glances at my piano, which needs a tuning, trying to decide how to spend the next few hours before I head to my little weekend restaurant gig over on Perdido Key...(Where tourists SUV's still sport Romney/Ryan '12 accouterments) Practicing is an option....so is writing.
Yes Virginia, that's a real piano player over in the corner, and no, I'm not charmed by you giving your oh-so-cute 4 YO a WHOLE DOLLAR to put in my tip jar. (Usually from a party of 6 or more, works out to about 16.7 cents apiece. THAT'S appreciation for ya...) On the bright side, I get to play my 'style', a combination of ragtime/stride/dixieland tunes that keep toes tapping, toddlers mimicking ballet poses, and the atmosphere light in what can be a jam-packed, understaffed, hot little restaurant. Situated UNDER the Innerarity Point bridge, this 57 seat former burger shack is now the hottest joint in town, bolstered, I suppose, by the creative genius of the owner and chefs, and people's willingness to stand in line outside for (sometimes) over an hour just for bragging rights. "Hey guess where I had dinner last night" isn't an impressive conversation starter, from my point of view. The shrimp and grits, however, is legendary, so are the steaks. Please come try it if you're in the area.
