LBFD

My sleep was rudely interrupted at 7:30 this morning by a HUGE clap of thunder,  signaling the onset of a torrential downpour also known as a Lazy Bum Florida Day.  I love, love, love these days!

Years ago, I would’ve hated having to get up and trudge to work in God awful weather, but, now, I have earned my lazy bum status.  Today, I was supposed to drive over three hours to Cassadaga to meet my friend, Allyson, before my appointment with my favorite medium.  How I was looking forward to “seeing” my friends and family on the “other side,” but we’ll do it next week.  I’m a little anxious about this visit, since it’s the first time I will have the chance to meet with my mother, but maybe she won’t come.

There is nothing better than a rainy day with no agenda.  Sleeping as long as I want, finally stumbling to the kitchen to make the coffee….mmmm…there is nothing like that morning aroma.  Slowly, poring over the Tampa Tribune, the Baltimore Sun, the Washington Post.  Getting updates on the latest sports scores…NBA, Australian Open, NCAA basketball.

Of course, it’s still January so there’s the mandatory minimal exercise component….stretching, resistance, cardio.  Simultaneously, I tune in to HGTV, switching to MSNBC or CNN during the ads.  GROAN….same old stuff.  Always hoping for adult behavior….just call me Pollyanna.  Followed by my usual breakfast, Chopani coffee and cream yogurt or coconut yogurt.  Somebody who shops at my neighborhood Publix has also discovered the coffee and cream…. The inventory is often minimal or missing.  Bummer.  (Definitely, a first world problem)

Now, the day stretches before me.  I am overwhelmed by my options.  There’s catching up on “This Is Us” on Hulu or finishing the second season of “The Marvelous Mrs. Marvel” or binge watching the fourth season of “Rita,” the Danish teacher who is certainly more liberal or direct than we see here.  But, it is Danish, so I’m an enthusiast.  There’s "Frankie and Grace"…think I'm still on Season 3.

It’s a fabulous day for reading!  I just finished Louise Penny’s latest, Kingdom of the Blind, the 14th in the Chief Detective Gamache series.  Her husband passed away last year and I was afraid she wouldn’t continue the series as he was her muse for the detective.  But, she did, and it was as spectacular as all the others.  Her books are to be savored, so I read it slowly and carefully, dreading yet anxiously eager to reach the ending.

Naturally, I have my favorite genres.  For non-fiction, I generally choose memoirs, like Becoming by Michelle Obama, which I devoured in two days.  Trevor Noah’s Born a Crime was fascinating…an amazing rags to riches story.  The best in my opinion was Educated by Tara Westover.  Basically, I read that with my mouth agape….who could survive that childhood much less thrive?!  This book is a testament to the struggle for self over fierce family loyalty.

For decades, I only read non-fiction: biographies, autobiographies, history and politics.  And, then, for some reason I haven’t  analyzed I switched to reading primarily fiction.  So, historical fiction is a perfect blend for me.  I love Paula McLain’s novels on Ernest Hemingway’s wives and Beatriz Williams’ books on the roaring 20s.

When I want some good feeling beach escapism, I turn to Debbie Macomber, Elin Hilderbrand, Mary Alice Monroe and JoAnne DeMaio.  For Florida maniac fiction, there’s Carl Hiaasen or Randy Wayne White.

I have always been a bookworm.  Last year, I read almost 70 books.  There are my old favorites like Alice Hoffman, Anne Tyler, John Grisham, Elizabeth Strout, Ann Patchett, Amor Towles.  But there are some amazing new writers on the scene like Celeste Ng, Joshilyn Jackson, Maria Temple, Lauren Goff, Tayari Jones.  

Mostly, these days, I’d like a good laugh so out with The Hunger Games (don’t get me started about that series) and in with Crazy Rich Asians.  Read all three in a week….needed that!  Got a kick out of Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine….of course, she’s not but she is quirkly and charming.  Lianne Morarty’s most recent, Nine Perfect Strangers, did not disappoint with her tendency toward bizarre-o world.

Today, I’m onto a new writer who’s climbing up the Best Seller List.  Delia Owens,the author of Where the Crawdads Sing.  I’ll update you later.

Back to my Lazy Bum Florida Day…ahhhhh.

Hell No We Won't Go

No, no, no, I’m not on the picket line or chanting in some anti-Trump rally but, God knows, if I was younger I sure as hell would be.  No, it’s all about uprooting myself again.

Buff Honey and I are all about looking at homes for sale, especially, now that he’s sold that gold mine in Maryland.  We found a couple who are great real estate agents and the guy just happened to graduate from the same high school in Columbia that all thee of my children graduated from.  

We live in this fantasy world that some perfect, waterfront property will magically appear on the island of Venice for an affordable price.  I would be mortified to tell you how many homes we’ve looked at.  It’s always the same dilemma.  We’re looking at older homes that’ve allegedly been ‘completely’ renovated with low ceilings, different flooring in every room, a master ensuite the size of a small closet, a choppy floor plan.  Only $700k and, of course, no water in sight.  OR, we’re looking at new construction on a postage stamp lot where you can reach out and touch your neighbors for only $1,000,000.  As I stated earlier, “Hell no, we won’t go!”

In our world, we want privacy.  Enough privacy to skinny dip if it struck our fancy.  I hear my kids, “EWWWW, MOM!!”  Not to worry, I promise not to subject you all to that!  BH wants some acreage….maybe 3 acres, mostly with natural, overgrown Florida flora with a very tiny lawn to mow and a huge lanai with a pool and outdoor kitchen….somewhat ridiculous since neither of us ever spend more than 10 minutes in our regular kitchen.  He wants at least a 3 car garage and high ceilings and an open floor plan.  We both watch HGTV way too much, since we can’t stomach the news anymore!

Then, I think, why in the world are we looking at a bigger property when we are in our 70s??!!  How about a nice beachfront condo?  So, we looked at a couple and they were lovely but they didn’t really have a view of the water and the condo fees were over $800 a month.  That just sounds way out there to me….didn’t include taxes, insurance, cable or a housekeeper, chauffeur and cook.   

 At Christmas time, BH went back to Maryland and stayed with his daughter, who bought this mini-mansion, complete with a gorgeous, guest suite which is better than staying in a 5-star hotel.  Recently, they added a movie room in their finished basement.  Well, needless to say, my cinephile fell completely in love!!  

He admitted to our friends, Jackie and Dan, who, along with me, question whether he’s serious about ever moving out of Stoneybrook, that he’d really like that movie room but knows he needs a mini-mansion to execute that.  OMG!  Seriously?!  And…he claims he’s found a possibility in a youngish development, The Forest at Hi Hat Ranch about 15 miles from our place. 
 

On our of our few no bridge days, we drive out to see this place.  The lots range between 3 and 6 acres.  About half of the homesites are still for sale and a few of the homes are now resales, ranging from $950,000 to $1.4 million.  Of course, he’s interested in the $950,000 one.  Unfortunately, it’s the only property that has NO POOL and no landscaping….a bare 5 acres with most of the land in the front of the house.  And, the only house that has no privacy…your neighbors are close even though there is acreage to spare.  But, he’s fine with it, rationalizing we can put in a pool, add landscaping…blah, blah, blah.  This, from the man, who doesn’t even like to mow our postage stamp lot regularly.  

There are no amenities like a community center, a golf course, a fitness studio.  You know, the typical Florida accoutrements.  But, we’re fine with that.  No real need so then I look up the financials.  Bear in mind, this place has been on the market for over a year and has been reduced by $250,000 and still no interest.  So, we’d have to add a pool and lanai and landscaping.  “But, we could build the pool and customize it to exactly what we wanted, just like our neighbors across the street,” explains my guy.  I truly can’t believe my ears ….wow, he must really want this movie room!  Then, I notice that the taxes are $12k annually.  

Kills the deal.  Basically, the entire yearly cost of our current abode is just double the taxes on the Hi Hat manse.  Our life is too good…a 5 year old affordable house in a community with nature preserves closer to the beach and downtown Venice with a pool, spa, and plenty of room for two people and guests. 

Suffice it to say, “Hell no, we won’t go!”


Talking Race

This past week when I lay my head on my squishy, king pillow, I find myself opining on race.  Race smacked me in the face as a child….not literally, of course, but I guess I found myself having pretty strong opinions as young as six in the segregated South.  And, those views clearly were at odds with pretty much everybody in my narrow world.

Most southern women had ‘help’ and my mom was no exception.  Of course, my mom didn’t work outside of the home, but she had Rina or Dallas to do the heavy cleaning and the ironing.  I found myself drawn to these women.  Perhaps, it was because they were without exception kind, warm, and  great storytellers.  

Simultaneously, I was being taught that they were inferior to white people.  They weren’t clean.  They were simple, couldn’t think for themselves. It was against the law to intermingle the races.  Segregated schools, lunch counters, bathrooms, drinking fountains, railroad cars, buses, hotels, churches.    

Churches.  That’s the part that completely undid me.  The Bible Belt and the most racist region of the country.  I went to church at least three times a week….Wednesday night suppers, choir practice, Sunday school and morning and evening services.  Most of my social life revolved around the church.  I was learning the Golden Rule….you know, treat others as you would want to be treated or love your neighbor as you love yourself.  

I took these teachings very seriously.  They didn’t state to only love your white neighbors.  I just didn’t get the pecking order of things.  I never believed I was any better than a black or Hispanic person.  No better than Jewish people or Muslims.  What I believed was “there but for the grace of God go I.”  

My grandfather was a World War I veteran but, actually, he was still fighting the Civil War.  He was a prolific user of the “N” word.  His daughter, my mom, to her credit, hated that word and told him if he used that word in her house, he would be shown to the door.  Fortunately, he tempered his language there, but only there.  That word to this day is like a knife in my heart.  Years later, after I graduated from college and was teaching in an urban high school in New England, he asked, “Can’t you find any pick-a-ninnies to teach down here?”  

I loved my family.  I reminded myself over and over, these were the values they were raised with, the culture they were born into.  But, it would not be my values nor the values I would want to impart to my own family.  I knew I would have to leave my family and the South and embark on a new journey.  

In college, I participated in a tutoring program jointly sponsored by Florida State University and Florida A & M University.  For years, every Saturday morning, I tutored children on tobacco farms and in black churches.  Many of them worked on those farms so their school year was abbreviated to about six months.  Of course, it’s illegal now but this was a true learning experience for me.  The living conditions I observed were shocking…no window screens, four children sleeping in one bed, minimal clothing, often no shoes.  Most had never traveled more than five miles.  

But, more eager learners I have never encountered!  They were so bright, so hopeful, so loving.  Multiply these children I grew to love by thousands.  Thousands of bright, beautiful, loving children born into poverty and few opportunities.  

When I moved up north, I eventually became determined to live the minority experience.  I lived in an all black neighborhood, taught in a 99% minority high school.  My four year old daughter was the first white child in her day care center.  On several occasions, I felt uncomfortable being the only white person in the room, but I wanted to get beyond that…to try my best to get past our obsession with race and its stereotypes.  Just see people as they are.

Eventually, I married an African American journalist I met when I was active in politics, enjoying a reporter-source relationship that morphed into a profound friendship.  The most significant relationship of my life.

My family pretty much dismissed me as being a rebel.  Well, yes, that is true.  I rebelled against the culture of segregation and all its inherent ugliness.  And, I was certainly blessed to raise my biracial children in a multi-racial, ethnically mixed community, Columbia, Maryland, deliberately planned for families like mine.  Where my children grew up on a street with black families, white famlies, biracial families, Indian families, Vietnamese families, Jewish families.  You get the picture.

Living as the minority was certainly eye opening for me.  Yes, it could be uncomfortable and, occasionally, intense.  But, it was a choice.  I could change neighborhoods or change jobs at any time and blend into the majority immediately.  That is not the case for many minorities in this country who are stuck in poor areas with underperforming schools.  Who daily have to notice people crossing the street to avoid them or are followed in stores assuming the worst.  

But, I have hope.  Hate and fear will never win over love and courage.  I truly believe we must love our neighbors —- all of them, even the ones you vehemently disagree with — as we love ourselves. So, go out today and every day and shine your light!