Like No Place On Earth

The trip from Keeseville to Sarasota was fairly uneventful. One more trip across the Canadian border to the airport in Montreal (and one more trip through U.S. customs, Canadian customs and the ever-popular TSA security screening).

My gate in Montreal was, as usual, the very last one in a very long terminal, so there was ample walking and almost nothing to do once I got there. I sat and reflected that this would be the last French I would be hearing for a while. The plane boarded on time and we landed a few minutes early at my one stop, La Guardia Airport.

True to form, my trek at La Guardia was from the very end of one terminal to the center of the airport and then out to the very end of yet another terminal. When I finally arrived at my flight's gate in the Delta terminal, I encountered a most bizarre sight: a forest of iPads.

Look how these little glowing tablets suck in everyone like shiny black holes.

iPads everywhere. Each and every seat in the waiting area had an iPad sitting in front of it (and there were very few chairs for simply sitting and waiting). In the middle of the terminal arm was a bar and bistro setup called Empire Tavern. And at each seat was (you guessed it) an iPad. I sat down, not for a drink, but to get a bite to eat. The server came over and explained I had to order my food and drink on the iPad and pay for it with a credit card (no cash accepted). After pushing many buttons, I managed to order a burger cordon bleu and a Diet Coke for a measly $17. Soon, they were calling my flight, and I was again early into Tampa.

Jay and Cousin Sandy

I was actually headed to Sarasota, where my Cousin Sandy and her husband Jay have retired. It has been years since I last saw Jay, as my last trip to New York (their home before retiring) coincided with a medical conference he was attending and we just missed one another. But he had no problem spotting me and I made out his visage through the tinting on the car windows. The ride back to Sarasota was a little over an hour, so we had time to catch up on retired life and extended vacations.

It was dark when I landed in Tampa and dark when we got to their home. Sandy was there with open arms, and again I felt as though we'd just seen each other, although it's been years.

A panorama shot of the canal (left) leading into the bay (far right).

Their house sits on the end of a canal right on the bay, literally two feet above sea level. One of the things we were talking about was insurance, and we swapped info on the pricing of flood insurance (Florida) and earthquake insurance (California), and I think California came out the cheaper coverage.

The ficus tree in the front yard has grown into a banyan-like behemoth.

Their front yard is walled and gated, and when you enter from the street it's like walking into a set for "Jurassic Park." The first thing you encounter is a huge ficus tree in the center of the space, circled by a brick walkway. There is a profusion of various exotic plants mixed with more common tropical plants, and the impression is more of a park than a yard.

Heron statues and Chinese pots
are among the home's visual delights.

The house itself has obviously grown over the years, much as the tree, and even after three days of visiting with them, I was still finding new things on the walls or tucked onto shelves that I had not noticed before. And every single thing has its own look (and probably a story to go with it). The rooms are open to one another, and out back is the lanai (what we in California call a patio) which borders the canal.

The evening I got there it was on the humid side, so even with a temperature in the 60s, I was still sweating slightly behind the ears. Luckily, there was a ceiling fan in my room, so with a little moving air I was quite comfortable.

I slept in on Wednesday which was delicious. Sandy had scheduled a meeting with a local Realtor (also named Sandy), so Realtor Sandy and I drove around looking at houses in my price range: There are lots and lots of bungalows built in the 1950s and '60s, and most of the neighborhoods seemed very nice. I was a little leery of all the screened-in porches and swimming pools in the back yards; one might almost get a feeling of being caged in to save oneself from the bugs and insects that seem to dominate the ecosystem. It rained some while house hunting, so the mugginess of the day before had returned when Realtor Sandy dropped me off at Jay and Sandy's.

Later, in the early evening, Jay and I were standing out on the lanai when he spotted two dolphins who had swum up the canal looking for fish. The water wasn't clear enough to track them as they swam, so it was mere luck that I got a shot of them at all. They didn't stay long, and soon swam back to the bay. After dinner, we watched an Indian film titled "Water."

Thursday I slept until 2:30 in the afternoon, just as I had in Keeseville. I suspect there is major neural reorganization going on in my head, which would account for the 12-hour periods of sound sleep I've been experiencing. Or it could be jet lag. Who knows.

A weekly jazz concert in the Gallery
gardens at the Ringling Museum.

In any case, Sandy and I drove around Sarasota, more the downtown core, and we stopped by a thrift store where she picked up a VHS recorder and some food storage containers. She was eyeing a three-foot tall nutcracker but fought the urge to purchase. We went to the Asolo Theater, where she exchanged some tickets, then we strolled across the street to the Ringling Museum, where she signed up for membership. We then walked over to the Galleries to hear the weekly jazz concert.

Jay joined us in short order, and we had a picnic on the grounds in the Dwarf Garden before heading into the theater to watch a documentary titled "Flood," about the great flood of 1927. It was compiled entirely of archival footage, some on the edge of extinction when rescued, and had only an accompanying score and no narration.

I play "Find Waldo:
Ocean Garbage Edition."

On Friday, Jay took out a rat to thaw (one of the things they have in the house is a large, very docile snake). We then drove around town, this time with Jay at the wheel, showing off the world-renowned beaches and surrounding communities. We stopped in Bradenton and visited the South Florida Museum, which was quite an eclectic space. We saw Snooty, the manatee who sort of laid in his pool and let the caretaker push sweet potatoes in his mouth.

Delusional Elderly

There was a great film on the universe at the planetarium. It was narrated by Tom Hanks and had mind-blowing graphics. There was a special exhibit on sea garbage, as well as the standing exhibits of the history and biology of the western Florida seaboard.

SNAKE HANDLER!

On the way home, I forced my hand and insisted on taking Jay and Sandy out for dinner, which Sandy had vehemently opposed throughout my visit. Always gracious, she acquiesced and we stopped to eat at Yummy House, which turned out to be a great Chinese restaurant. What it lacked in ambiance it more than made up for in taste and freshness.

Upon return home, Jay brought out the snake (I can't remember its name) to feed it the now-thawed rodent. I got to handle the reptile, but it was Jay upon whom it really doted. Maybe it was because he smelled like thawed rat.

That evening, Sandy introduced me to Ted.com, a site specializing in lectures and talks, many of them fascinating.

I packed before retiring on Friday, and around 10 a.m. Saturday morning, Sandy and I got in the car, my bags in tow, and headed back up to Tampa Airport and my flight to Minneapolis. That, of course, will be the next entry.