187 MILES

Pedro say, "Try our Burritos and get free Gas.", "You're Never a Hot Dog at South of the Border always a Weiner, not a Loser." , "No Bull, Best Prices, Only 187 Miles Ahead". I checked the oil in the 410 V8 of my Caddy before I left The Singing Frog Farm that frosty morning and headed to the interstate.  Soon the billboards appeared like the Sirens of Capri calling me to the biggest little town just south of the border. 

Dillon, South Carolina was incorporated for the sole reason of extracting dollars from the pockets of tired tourists on their way from "The North" to destinations in sunny Florida.  In all my years of driving south I had never before answered the call.  With caffeine rushing through my veins and the lure of the sandy beaches of Fort Lauderdale just 10 or 12 hours away how could I stop?  

When you reach middle age you learn to take your time and smell the roses along the way.  I pulled off the freeway and entered another world.  It was a blue-skied world filled with 40 foot tall men, wild beasts in T-shirts, and giant polyester resin hamburgers.  I was in no hurry, so I visited many of the attractions; the first being the restroom.  Next I went into Pedro's super-sized convenience store.  I passed up the over-priced snack foods, the alcoholic beverage aisle (no booze while driving on this trip), and the American flag regalia that has been so popular since 9/11. I went to the check out counter and purchased an extra long Bic lighter without the child proof safety feature.  This way I could light my cigars while driving and not crash into a tree or semi or something. 

 
I cruised the African Shop next. Nothing I wanted there. I went into Pedro Coffee Shop West because of the promise of finding hats from around the globe.  I bought a couple of corduroy baseball hats for $1.87 each (possible gifts) and one with a skull and cobra insignia embroidered on it.  I would wear that one while down south.  It made me feel more comfortable, especially in bars.  I went to the shop next door and bought a South of the Border coffee mug with a picture of lazy

Pedro lounging against a cactus, which is something I have a hard time understanding because I've grown cactus and they have sharp pointy needles on them.   I picked up two ceramic ash trays shaped like Mexican sombreros. I like to decorate symmetrically.  The cup and ash trays were only $2.95 each.  What a deal. 
 I was careful to use a shopping basket while making my selections.  Normally, for such a few items I might just put things in my pockets when my hands got full. But putting them in my pockets could be considered concealment with intention to steal. Then I would have a hard time explaining to the South Carolina police that I didn't intend to steal them.  It's been a very educational trip.  My shopping finished I got a Mexi-Burger, fries, and a diet Pepsi and was soon back "on the road again" singing that song with a freshly lit stogie in hand.

 GA-FLA-GA-VA
I zoomed through Georgia and hit the Florida border around dusk. Gee, it's good to be back home.  The orange sun shimmered gently on the water below in sharp contrast to the rattling of my Cadillac above as I bounced over a bumpy, pot- holed bridge. A familiar green and white sign welcomed me to the Sunshine State and the road became much smoother.  Spacemonkeyz versus Gorillaz – Laika Come Home was playing in the CD player for the 20th time and it would continue to play for many more miles to come.  The long trip down the peninsula was uneventful.  I got to my Aunt Cecil's house in Sunrise, FLA around 11 pm.  I thought they'd all be asleep or up worrying about my late arrival.  But the neighbors were over for the annual holiday party, this being the Friday before Christmas.  Everyone was out on the back porch.  It was 40 degrees or so, Fahrenheit not Celsius.  It was freezing.  I had on both a sweatshirt and a coat.  I downed a shot of Grand Mariner which finally got me warmed up. 
 

As I mentioned before I came to visit relatives and that I did.  I also had to get insurance and a new sticker for the Eldorado which is registered in Florida. 

 

My car insurance went up to $813 a year because my 84 Cadillac convertible is such a monster mobile that it would destroy a small town and all its inhabitants if it ever had an accident.  Well, this is what the insurance people would have you believe.  So, I decided to take a look at some smaller newer cars.  I wasted a couple afternoons doing that, especially with one salesperson who didn't understand that $5000 was all that I wanted to spend and I meant it.  Anyway, after driving some dinky 4 cylinder cars with power steering that felt similar to driving a truck I began to have a renewed appreciation for the fine machine that I already owned.

I kept the Caddy, packed my bags and headed back north. I left after lunch and planned to make it to someplace in Georgia to spend the night.  That place turned out to be the Days Inn in Brunswick, GA.  I feasted on Kentucky Fried Chicken washed down with bourbon and coke.  I slept well, passing out some where in the middle of an HBO special presentation made for television movie.  Stopping in Georgia was a strategic move.  I wanted to be within driving distance to Alexandria, VA, so that I could get my hand licked by my little Girlie again.  I don't know if it was the chicken or the bourbon, but I had to make an emergency stop back at the South of the Border restrooms.  While there I checked a few shops that I missed, still trying to find a shirt with a horse on it.  No luck.  When I got to Virginia I had more laughs and smiles, another night on the air mattress in Marisella's office, and then off to New Jersey.  

A VERY JOLLY JERSEY CHRISTMAS

 

 

 

 

 

Mike and Nicki

  

Christmas in Jersey was good fun.  Had dinner at my brother Mike's house. Daughter Nicki, who is studying to be a chef, had the honor of cooking our holiday meal.  I had my fill of wine, pasta, potatoes, eggplant parm, roast beef, buttered rolls, and veggies. I was bursting, to say to least.   In the den the parrots were squawking and the dogs were barking.  There was a game on the tele and a drink resting on grampop Bob's belly.

 


Traditionally, I'd do some Christmas partying with friends.  The Lents and the Johnsons were mandatory stops on the party circuit.  I think that it was about thirty years ago that at I first whooped it up at the Johnson house.  I hit Jack's Tavern with Laura and her two sisters the Saturday after Christmas.  Jenny Johnson was no more than seven when Laura and I first met in high school.  She was such a pain in the ass back then.  I like her better now that she is buying us all rounds of shots.  Loony Laura never changes and will always be one of my special friends back in the States.

 

  

The best Christmas present was seeing my mom walk without the use of a cane or walker.  Last time that I saw her in August she was in a wheelchair.

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