Heather's Wedding

The rehearsal started about 5PM on Friday. The rehearsal dinner followed at the beach house that Heather and Jeff rented for the week. The 60s-style weathered wood summer home was built above the rocky beach with a tiny lawn in between.It was a build-your-own-burrito buffet and I must say I was apprehensive as I have had very little confidence in “New England” Mexican. I was pleasently surprised. Trays of pollo asado and carnitas, asiago cheese, tomatillo salso, pico de gallo, jicama and pepper salad, guacamole, black beans, various other sauces and salsas, rice, cerveza Mexicana, etc.; all of it excellent. Cookies and cake made by my sister Betsy followed. It was hot and very humid but a sea breeze made the temperature just tolerable.
It started raining fairly early and coupled with the heat we became a bit apprehensive about Heather’s wedding scheduled for 5 PM. It was actually pouring as we drove to Branford at 4. As we approached the coast the sky cleared and the sun came out. There were the white chairs on the lawn and the brightly colored guests milling around under the trees. The Onewego Club is a vintage tennis/beach/social club located on the rocky beach a few miles west of New Haven. There’s a big clapboard clubhouse/hall with extensive decking and rolling green lawns with giant trees, old park benches, flower gardens and cottages. The club members, mostly in bathing suits watched with curiosity as we all arrived. The Wedding started out in a little arbor with the principals in slow procession down the lawn, through the chairs to the floral edge of the sea wall overlooking Long Island Sound. Jeff and his Posse were in beige suits with wine colored ties and flip-flops. I knew this was gonna be right! It was very casual and light-hearted. My brother had told me earlier that he was wearing pearls. He did. His wife, Dana fashioned a “tie” of long strands of old family pearls gathered at the neck by a bright, colorful brooch. It really looked good and I think the style could catch on. My sister Eileen’s son Billy played guitar and sang as the ceremony began. The tiny attendants [Jeff’s nephews and niece] walked down with Heather’s second love, her Lab-mix, Sally sporting a matching wine colored leash. My sister, Cathy and her husband, Fred, escorted the beautiful bride dressed in a strapless ivory number with lace, beaded accents and a line of buttons down the back and onto the train. Her beautiful blond locks were tucked up and held in place with small ivory orchids, which were repeated in the corsages of the mothers of the bride and groom and the grandmother of the bride. Jeff’s sister-in-law officiated. The décor was a family affair with sister, Eileen creating chair decorations and the ring pillow. My sister, Mary, and S-I-L Dana created the seaside themed table decorations. There were starfish and shells everywhere. The party started with a great variety of finger food offered by an extensive staff. There were spicy Cajun meatballs, the requisite Connecticut staple, pizza [3 varieties], 3 quiches, “quesadillas” [more accurately deep fried rolls], and steak wrapped somethings. Two bartenders kept our thirsts quenched. California Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet were offered at each table. The dinner menu included Chicken Plicate, salmon, prime rib, roasted vegetables, mashed potatoes, pasta w/ pesto and salads. The desert was pies and ice cream. The party started in earnest after dinner with a “funky” dance band. Aside from someone regularly calling for “Free Bird” everyone seemed enthusiastic with the musical repertory. And Aggie, at 95 she did really well hanging out with the young people until quite late.

New York and the Spotted Pig

After 2 hours in traffic the train took me to Grand Central Station. I love this place. It is a maze, not a labyrinth but a classic maze. You can get lost trying to find where you are supposed to go. There is no indication of direction, no North and South, no East and West, just a warren of tiled caves and seedy venders. I took the 4 Train to Union Square and climbed up into one of the lovliest

Albany, Thunder, Lightning, Rain and Tornados

Wednesday morning was spent doing last minute prep for the wedding. Wednesday afternoon Betsy, Eileen and I drove to Albany to pick up nephew Billy. Albany is the half-way point to Rochester where he goes to school. We met him at the Rensselaer RR Station just outside of Albany. The train was 3.5 hours late. The drive up was very scenic; Eileen prefers scenic to timely. We drove through Stockbridge and Barrington and dozens of small picturesque New England towns. I was treated to the “Main Street” featured in many of Norman Rockwell’s paintings. The highway was always tree-lined and very green. We had the options of Duncan Donuts, Dairy Queen, Friendly’s and McDonalds all along the way. Upon leaving Albany the radio warned us of impending weather changes… thunder & lightning, rain and TORNADOS! Luckily, we were behind the most powerful aspects. When we got home the news was that a tornado had touched down in 4 Connecticut communities downing great old trees and uprooting smaller ones. The humidity was reminiscent of the deep south in the early summer. Connecticut is so lush and green right now that it could be mistaken for the setting of a steamy Tennessee Williams melodrama. I spent the evening wrapping the wedding present. It may be the most over-the-top extravaganza I have yet released on the world.
Thursday is New york.

To Connecticut

Tuesday AM at Gate 9 in Oakland Airport Terminal 1 waiting for our 8:55 flight to JFK and low & behold I discover that we have WiFi. Free WiFi. In an American airport! Who makes these decisions? I found free WiFi in a couple of airports in Europe but never in the States. Bravo Oakland! Of course someone will realize that they can charge and it will go the way of all the others. Don’t know if we get it on the plane.
We did not have WiFi on the plane but it was the easiest and most comfortable economy coast-to-coast I have yet flown. Jet Blue seats are larger, substantially. There is more leg room. Anyone can use any of the three restrooms, too. We had a tail wind and arrived almost an hour early. We picked up our car which was supposed to be a Full-size model. It was a Mercury Marquis. It looked like a town-car but the interior was like coach on United Airlines. I knew there would be a trade-off. We drove to North Branford with very little traffic for rush-hour and arrived just in time for pizza! Lots of pizza and a Dairy Queen ice cream cake! My sisters do know what is important.

Philadelphia and Picasso

Amtrak from Penn Station to Philadelphia is fast and easy but 4 times more expensive than the Metro North of a few days ago. Johanna picked me up at the station and we went off to breakfast at Sabrina’s to catch up. We worked together in Berkeley in the 80s and went to see a lot of music together. Sabrina’s [www.sabrinascafe.com] has several locations in Philadelphia; we went to the Callowhill café not far from the Museum. It’s a wonderful, funky style eatery reminiscent of so many East Bay cafes of the past. The food was exceptional and plentiful; what else need be said?
J pointed out that Philadelphia was originally laid out to mimic Paris and the grand boulevard from downtown to the Museum is a replica of the Place de la Concorde. The golden Greek revival museum buildings embrace a plaza at the top of the steps made famous in the first “Rocky” movie. There’s a statue of Stallone at the foot of the steps. Not a few of the visitors imitated the run to the top capped with the triumphant dance.
This is a world-class museum. I am ashamed that I have never visited it before. The Picasso exhibit covers his arrival in Paris at the turn of the century to about 1945. Most of the pieces “live” there permanently. Picasso’s work was the dominant feature but well represented were Leger, Braque, Miro, Gris, Cezanne, Toulouse-Lautrec, Picabia, and numerous Americans and Russians. It is beautifully curated with photographs, books and sculptures interspersed with the paintings, drawings and prints. The rest of the Museum contains many John Singer Sargents, Monets, Orientalists, and a remarkable collection of Duchamp, Brancusi, Ellsworth Kelly and so many more. I was not familiar with Duchamp’s “famous” door but was told not to miss it. Oh, My!
We then headed down the boulevard to the Rodin Museum, which is a tiny temple in a garden. The Thinker greets you at the gate. At the top of the stairs protected on a covered “porch” is one of only three bronze casts of “The Gates of Hell.” This museum houses the largest collection of Rodin outside of Paris. It’s all there.
We then drove off to the “suburb” where J lives. Belmont Hills is an old neighborhood of varying style homes. The craftsmen and worked who built the palatial homes and municipal buildings settled there and created there much more modest but unique homes.
The commercial area is a small and charming strip of cafes, galleries and boutiques. One in particular is worth a look. “Jakes” sports one of the most creative “awnings I have ever seen. It is a pastiche of a cubist assemblage with bows to Picasso, Leger and Matisse.
We ended the day with Johanna’s family in their back yard until I had to catch my train back to NYC.

CDG

I took the Metro-North train into Grand Central Station at 8:30 and was at Chez Weis by 10. Public transportation is a good thing. Ron and I went dinner shopping at The Chelsea Market. The East Coast may not have the farmer’s markets and boutique veggies we have access to but the variety and volume of goods is inspiring. Seafood, of course, wins out hands down. There are fish markets all over the city and I am sure that the one we were in is at least as good as most. You can choose from prepared or unprepared. Branzino was a 12” whole filleted white fish [Italian Sea Bass] stuffed with black olives, herbs and garlic; the cooking instructions were posted on the case. Maya Shrimp were glazed with herbs and spices. Swordfish steaks were crusted with toasted black sesame. There were six different smoked salmons. We bought way too much! The bakery, a chain called Amy’s, had baked goods piled high everywhere. My quest was for a single baguette [actually a “Tuscan Log”] and I had to run a gauntlet of enticing creations. I succumbed to chocolate biscotti and semolina, golden raisin and fennel twists [their signature bread].
We were walking everywhere so I didn’t feel too guilty.
Tuesday AM Betsy and I took a walk on the High Line, a new elevated park that will eventually follow an old rail line from the Hudson to 30th St. The first revelation was a new view of the architecture; there were no trees or awnings obscuring the view. Local schools and businesses vie to provide their students and employees to maintain the gardens. Public art is installed around every turn. After a brisk 90-minute walk I was turned over to Ron for the gallery crawl. On one block of 22nd alone we visited 16 galleries. At the end of the block we entered Comme Des Garcons, the oh-so-chic couturier. A young man silently greeted us as we passed through the futuristic brushed steel tube into the glossy white cave. Dressed in slacks, skirt and jacket concocted from a dozen or so tweeds, worsteds, gabardines and serges, he was thinking “ oh, you poor man; you are way to large to find anything here.” I didn’t find anything. The CDG fashion statement de jour was a variety of sleeve caps sewn onto garments in mostly unexpected places. I strongly recommend a visit.

Las Vegas NE

My sisters have a passing affection for slot machines, the more complex the better. We drove out to the Mohegan Sun resort complex. Coincidently, when I worked at Kosman we did a lot of business with the Mohegan Sun Racing team…. Tina Charles [of the fantastic UCONN champions] was just acquired by them. This is an enormous casino operation. The Hotel building is worthy of any world-class modern skyline. The casino itself is as extravagant as anything I’ve seen in Nevada. The girls gravitated to the new Monopoly slots that feature an “extra” game that starts randomly and one watches as various bonus scenarios play out. The interior of the casino is glitzed-up Native American. There is an enormous Chihuly glass installation, a “Wall of Water” with an ever-changing surface and a giant alabaster mountain that houses restaurants and bars. The floor plan is deliberately circuitous and confusing. There are numerous “find-your-companion” announcement desks. Restaurants and bars are strewn throughout. The food is exceptionally good and plentiful. The requisite boutiques line a “retail wing.” The place was jammed when we left a couple of hours later.
We then drove along the coast and I was stirred by memories of swimming at Hammonassett, picking apples in Guilford and fishing on the Branford shoreline. I still can’t get over how this populous little state can be so wooded. Spring has moved onto the fast track due to a couple of 80-degree days this past week. Everything is twice as green and blooming as it was before I headed down Maine. Today looks promising.

Bridges

We took a Sunday drive yesterday [you can do that in Maine] out to Hancock County to the East. Our first stop was Searsport, an old shipping community with classic Captains’ Houses with towers, cupolas and Widow’s Walks. We then crossed the new suspension bridge at Bucksport. I love bridges. The Penobscot Narrows Bridge [its official name] utilized an unusual project program called 'owner facilitated design/build'. It coupled Maine DOT with FIGG as the designer and Cianbro/Reed & Reed as the contractor. The elevator system in the west tower delivers you to an observation room at the top. It is built along side the old bridge, which is in disrepair, but it is still a graceful beauty in rusting green. We headed south along the river to Castine at the far end of the peninsula where the Bagaduce River enters the Bay. It was always a very upscale community and the stately old homes [many Georgian and Federalist] are some of the loveliest I have seen here. Castine has a complicated history dating back to the early 1600s. It is now the home of The Maine Maritime Academy.
From Castine we drove north through Penobscot and then east to Blue Hill on the confluence of Morgan and Blue Hill Bays. We had lunch at a bird-watcher’s store/café.
On the way home we stopped at Young’s Lobster pound where I picked out a lobster, which they prepared that afternoon. Liza picked it up for my dinner few hours later. They supplied the butter, boiled potatoes and the critter was expertly cracked.

Big House, Little House, Back House Barn

T & I headed out to Brooks for breakfast at Ralph’s Café. We ran into the folks that are renting T&L’s old farm. They grow Garlic. Brooks is a blink in size but so-very-cute. We drove up the road to Jackson and the farm. There is a style of conglomerate architecture here that is described as “Big House, Little House, Back House, Barn.” The name says it all. We then drove to Monroe to meet up with their friend Gregory. G is a cabinetmaker and lives in a big old house that reminded me of the old hippy-houses we all lived in at one time or another. Old tablecloths for curtains, shells and rocks and pinecones shared the counter-tops and tables with teapots, jars of rice and potted plants. Friendly dogs and cats climbed on and off my lap as I warmed my back by the old cast Iron stove. It is so refreshing to meet a well-educated and creative back woods guy who is not concerned with who wants to take his assault weapons from him. Further down the road we passed through “Harvey-Town” where one could imagine arsenals of said assault weapons hidden in every unkempt barn and falling down doublewide. The lots were strewn with old cars, bathtubs, toilets and toys. “Prepare to Meet your God” signs reflected the presence of a huge Pentecostal church [the size of an airplane hanger] down the road. T says it is filled to overflowing on Sundays.
We stopped to fetch Liza and drove south through coastal villages along Penobscot Bay. Northport, Ducktrap, Lincolnville, Camden, Rockport, Glen Cove, Saint George, and Tenants Harbor lead the way to Port Clyde at the end of the peninsula. The ferry to Monhegan leaves from here. Port Clyde is a post card of lobster fishing society. Traps and buoys are everywhere. I mean everywhere. Driving through these tiny towns I had to ask, “does everyone here trap lobster? The answer was “pretty much.” The downside of this excursion was staring us in the face but we didn’t grasp it until we stopped for my lobster dinner. All the traps were out of the water. There were no lobsters. It was too early. The architecture of Knox and Waldo Counties is as charming as you could imagine. I fully get T&L’s desire to buy, restore/update, and sell here. Everywhere I looked I saw homes that needed some TLC. The sun came out late in the day and it warmed to about 70. We returned to Belfast in the early evening spent from a well-spent day.

Easter

Easter Sunday in Connecticut.
My sister Eileen and I get up about 4:30 AM and swallow a pot of coffee. Bill is up a few minutes later. Soon everyone is preparing for the feast. We drive through back roads lined with tall bare trees hiding homes on green hills. Rumors of spring are everywhere. The ubiquitous Forsythia explodes in Chinese yellow in every yard. Families are arriving at homes along the way. Young parents are out photographing their children. The kids are done up in the latest Easter attire. Family is big in Connecticut.
Food is very different. The old Italian treats are staples of the holidays. Pizza Gain or Pizzagaina is an egg-based concoction of diced ham, pepperoni and cheese. Rice pie is like a cheesecake made with rice. There was a ricotta-based bundt-shaped pineapple upside-down cake. Yes, it was decorated with maraschino cherries. And ambrosia with Easter pastel mini-marshmallows followed the meal. Chocolate eggs, purple peeps, jellybeans and Easter Reeses were in bowls everywhere. I contributed to the Italian theme by introducing everyone to the Cocktail Sorrento.
My sisters are way fun but I was also taken by their husbands whom I have had little contact with in the past. They are mostly foils for their wives sarcasm [the pride of the Coyle family] but at times they hold their own and transform the comedy fest to sidesplitting hilarity. I hesitate to admit that I think I may have caught the “family bug” on this adventure. Billy Junior came home from Nazareth College and actually engaged freely with the rest of us; he was a bit standoffish last visit perhaps embarrassed by the rampant silliness perpetrated by his mother and aunts. Nieces, Heather and Allison chimed in via phone and text. We got back to Cheshire in time to watch both women’s basketball games… and more rice pie. Great day

The Family Gathers

It's been over 4 years since I experienced the sarcasm and wit of my two youngest sisters. They are almost a stand-up comedy act switching from witty, often scathing repartee to side-splitting self deprecation. It does not stop. If one of the husbands or various other kin or friends joins in it becomes even more complex and hilarious. When we visited Aggie they decided to ransack her family archives and do running commentary of everything that she has saved in her 95 years. We went through hundreds of photographs dozens of old grammar and high school report cards, greeting cards [hand-made and otherwise], birth certificates, mementos, souvenirs and sundry records of immediate, extended family and beyond. Eileen and I spent quite a bit of time consolidating family history sending it out there on the Internets to see what it might yield. I got three different dog fixes... Tessie, a rambunctious beagle; Molly, a Pug puppy and Chester, a Chihuahua/Terrier mix. Driving through the woods between Cheshire and North Branford is so alien to me now. Houses are great distances apart with vast lawns that show no divisions or property lines. The weather was a balmy mid-seventies and everywhere we looked people were out sitting on their porches and sunning in their yards. All in all a delightful day.

East Coast Crawl

Home to STS to SFO to LAX
Left the house at 3:15AM. I was the only passenger for the Airport Express at STS. We picked up one at Days Inn, four more at Rohnert Park and a dozen or so at Petaluma. They do pretty well for that hour of the morning. We got to SFO by 5:30 and boarded pretty quickly. We took off a bit early and landed at LAX 18 minutes early. Virgin America planes are new and flash! Soft blue light greets you upon boarding. The seats are molded white plastic a la Star Wars with black leather and black detailing. A small tiltable video screen is attached to the back of the seat in front of you. It’s a myth that there is any more room on VA. I think the seat was a tad wider than the United seats I have been in most recently but they don’t tilt back more than 10-15 degrees and the video screen is never more that 12 inches from your face. I dozed off and banged my head on it several times. Even with the seat back I was leaning forward. The back cushion is pretty thick and with a long upper torso it thrusts you forward quite a bit. I will see if I can upgrade at all for the New York leg. I grabbed a sandwich, hash browns and soda at the Burger King. $9.09!!!!, that’s three times what you would pay anywhere else. We arrived at JFk almost a Half hour early but the bags took a long time. My sister Betsy and her hubby Gerry met me and we drove about 2 hours top Cheshire. The roads around JFK are as bad as our California Roads.

The Dragon Tattoo

Today Gary and Diane returned from Phoenix. I drove to La Quinta to visit Steve and Mary; they live opposite the 6th hole on one of the courses that will be featured in the big celebrity golf shindig starting Wed. At 4 PM I head for the Camelot Theatre and my last film of the fest. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo was everything I had hoped. Clocking in at over 2.5 hours it went by like it was minutes. This crafty thriller is very true to the book, the characterizations are right on and it kicks butt. I jump out of my seat 3 times. I am sure Hollywood will try to remake it and fail, so see it in the original made-for-Swedish-TV version. You wont’ be sorry.
BTW we had weather here, real weather. On my way to the theatre we had a downpour. This was a real gully-washer and I had to drive through a dozen or more badly flooded intersections. When I drove home there wasn’t a trace of the flooding. Oh, and morning before last we had a 4.3 earthquake, too. Other than these two anomalies we have had constant 70-75 degrees and very few clouds. This morning [Tuesday] I can’t see 10 feet in front of me for the fog but it’s dissipating rapidly. The temperature is supposed to drop at least 10 degrees until Saturday and there are chances of thunderstorms through Friday. Time to get out of here. The Golf Classic should be a hoot with all the rain!

Movie anyone?

I went exploring this morning and learned a bit about Palm Springs and it’s environs.
I went to another film this afternoon. Brotherhood is a dark Danish drama, which won Best Film at the Rome Film Festival. It’s the tale of two very different guys, members of a white supremacy group who develop a dangerous relationship. Yes, another Gay-themed film but this was so-o-o much better. Beautifully filmed, mostly at night, it had a very authentic feel and the performances were terrific. It was not formulaic, had good twists and a great dénouement. Later in the evening I saw Merantau from Indonesia. This martial arts movie purported to be new in style and scope just seemed so usual. It was only film I saw in a theatre where there were any empty seats. I think there were at most 50 people in the theatre. They seemed to enjoy it and clapped enthusiastically at the end… I don’t know what I missed.
Tomorrow I have a slim chance to see The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and I am going for it. Keep your fingers crossed.

Movies, movies and more movies

The photo is a wind farm in the north end of the valley. It is claimed to be one of the greatest producers of wind energy in the world. Some of the blades are 60' long.
Friday Morning we had breakfast at the club and headed into town for our first film, La Mission. The Bratt brothers production was a pleasant surprise. When it started I had the impression it was going to be a bit heavy-handed but as it progressed it became subtler and more nuanced. Benjamin Bratt plays an old school urban Hispanic single father who discovers an unsettling secret, which drives him to anger, violence and despair. The Mission District of SF is the setting and most of the characters are devotees of the “low-rider” culture. The music is varied and exciting. The casting involves many unfamiliar faces but the performances are well wrought. The film was shown in the Annenberg Auditorium at the Palm Springs Art Museum. Our ticket stubs afforded us access to the Museum and we took a quick tour before dinner. There was a very nice Art of Glass exhibit as well as their regular collection of Southwest Art. There is a sunken sculpture garden dominated by several pieces by Dale Chihuly included [I believe] one of the Venice Canal chandelier installations. We had dinner at Restaurante Guilermo, which turned out to be mediocre at best.
Saturday morning I saw “Today’s Special,” a light and delightful foodie movie about a young chef forced to take care of his ailing father’s failing Tandoori restaurant. He rediscovers his heritage through a mystical cabbie that teaches him the basics of Indian cuisine. It was funny, and appetite enhancing.
I turned right around and saw “Is It Me?” which was a waste of time. This incredibly clichéd and predictable gay comedy of errors was weighed down by old jokes, terrible music and acting that was so ham-fisted I could have been watching a silent film.
The evening film was much better. “Handsome Harry” is a carefully crafted melodrama about a mature man being set adrift trying to cope with a violent event from his distant past. Jamey Sheridan is not only “Handsome” but gives an exceptionally nuanced portrayal of a lost soul in search of redemption. He is supported by the likes of Steve Buscemi, John Savage, Aiden Quinn and Campbell Scott. A truly fine jazz soundtrack carries us through the half-dozen variations leading to a heartbreaking coda. I have 2 more scheduled on Sunday and I’ll try to squeeze in one more.
Getting around here is pretty easy. I expected it to be a smaller community but it is sprawling. Hwy 10 makes it pretty easy to get from Palm Springs to Rancho Mirage, to La Quinta and Palm Desert; everything seems to be between the highway and the mountains [which are snow-covered].

Palm Springs & the PSIFF

8:45AM and the Airport Express leaves STS on time headed to SFO and then Alaska Airlines to PSP for 5 nights and the Palm Springs International Film Festival.
As we were boarding the bus we were told very succinctly that if we were going to OAK that once we reached Petaluma we were to exit the bus and board the bus that would be right behind us. That would take you to OAK. There were several passengers already on their computers and phones by this time and of course they had to ask the driver “What do I do if I’m going to Oakland?” Then one guy who was not paying attention got up to exit the bus looking for the bus behind us. We were on our way listening to a cacophony of oh-so-important phone calls by a half dozen oh-so-important passengers. We stopped for additional passengers at Days Inn and Double Tree and pulled into Petaluma about an hour later. We arrived at SFO in another hour,
Having packed only a carry-on I proceeded to the security line, which took about 20 minutes.
I took a cue from the Clooney character in “Up In The Air” and dressed and packed for security. Slip on shoes, no metal jewelry, bag of liquids in a front pocket of my bag, computer out, money [change] and anything metal in my jacket, which was removed, made the passage through the gauntlet pain-free. I must research non-metal belt buckles or find comfortable trousers that don’t need a belt. Of course with my round-in-the-middle physique that is not going to be easy. I keep so much crap in my pockets that a belt is the only solution.
At the gate we learned that the plane from Seattle was going to be a hour late. When it did arrive at about 1:15PM the turn-around was fast and efficient. We were in the air in a half hour. We arrived at PSP at 3PM. It is a lovely modern if artsy airport and I found my way to the curb without a hitch. There was Gary in the red Jag convertible.
We stopped at the Festival will-call to pick up the tickets that I had purchased on-line. There appears to be an unending supply of clueless 20-somethings who are so-o-o sure that they are the only people on the planet. The young woman I had to deal with could not read; I mean she simply could not read. I had the computer receipts and correspondences instructing me in the proper retrieval of my tickets and she could not read them. I had to do it for her with numerous “Could you spell that,” “huh?’ and “let me ask someone else.”
We took the scenic ride back to “The Lakes” passing all the Rolls Royce and Maserati dealers, the celebrity street names and wall-to-wall very up-scale strip malls. It is truly a different world down here. Not unlike the visual impact of Monte Carlo, not the architectural or natural setting, simply the display of wealth.
Diane and I took Cali for a walk so I could see where one deposits the poop bags. There are deposit stations throughout the compound and each one as extra bags for pickups on the return. Everyone has a golf cart and every home has a golf cart garage. The fronts of the homes are very much the same; there are only minor architectural differences. The landscaping is identical throughout. There are community swimming pools on about every other block; they are heated on a rotating schedule, half on odd numbered months, half on even numbered months. The backs of the houses [they are constructed in blocks of 4 usually with two larger and two smaller units] have small patios that open onto the golf course. As far as you can see there are palm trees and green grass… and homes, many, many homes.