Making his Mark at Winding Oaks

In my last post about our subdivision pool, you saw a picture of Ripley assisting our neighbor who has been the moving force behind getting this project done. Even the current board of the subdivision would not disagree, and most of them were invisible over the summer as they stayed in their northern homes and seemed impervious to resident concerns that the project - promised for completion by this date LAST YEAR, was that important to them. Elizabeth and I were told by the President and Vice President of the Board that "our plan is to have this open by October (2010)" when we contemplated buying this house, which is very conveniently located in close proximity to the pool.

The Vice President of that board was defeated, while the President stayed on, but found himself surrounded by newer members more willing to spend money on improvements. One of those improvements was the park surrounding the pool, which I've also blogged about in terms of clearing out ten years of neglected debris and overgrown tree canopy. Again, credit flows to the man in the picture, who suggested it would take more than one day of labor to do this correctly and convinced the board to spend a little more to get a lot more.

The man pictured is Mark Hullinger, who bought a home here over a year ago, and proceeded to rebuild it from the foundation up. Mark also decided my own comments, snide as they might have been, warranted an "official" (although unelected) response, and he created his own Winding Oaks News Service, posting on YouTube his progress reports. They were quite good, and had very professional production values, including a nice intro to each report. Google Winding Oaks News Service, and you'll find multiple reports. When it appeared Mark had taken over the role of keeping residents informed (which the board had not been doing), I deferred to his work.

I'm going to lead a "DRAFT HULLINGER" movement at the next board election, as we need more resident Trustees, and Mark has earned this job if he'll take it. I'm already on a condo board for our rental unit, so one is enough for me.

Yes, that IS water in the pool. Mark says we have another week of minor work, but the fence is now in, and the restrooms are coming along so we can get Board of Health approval. Believe it or not, we are required to have diaper changing stations in both the mens and ladies rooms. I asked Mark who in this neighborhood of septuagenarians and octogenarians needed a diaper changing station. He answered "I guess it Depends".

Pool Project Progress

The pool project made some strides, but only because two men pushed vendors to perform and stay on schedule to complete the job by Christmas. Ripley is thanking one of them in the picture, and I add my thanks to Mark Hullinger, who is not even on the board, but has been the neighbor who embraced this project and decided that if it was going to get done, he was going to have to push all parties to complete it. Mark has done some fantastic videos on YouTube, very professionally done. Google his name Mark Hullinger or winding oaks pool update to see some of his excellent work. Ripley is standing next to his video gear in the small inset picture.

Bill Urban, the other guy I reference, is the Board VP, and fully engaged once he and his wife returned. I've seen Bill and Maggie doing other things for the neighborhood as well, including putting up Christmas lights at our entrances. This week the board will meet to approve a budget and several other matters, including choosing the pool colors after Mark sent out a ballot. In future blog entries, you will see what color palate was selected.

So now, we have gotten to the point where the primary concrete layer is installed, which allowed the "shade structure" people to come in on a Saturday and complete their part of the deal. In the next few days, fencing will go up, and repairs to the pool building will start. Mark and Bill promise this job will be completed by Christmas, and hopefully they'll be right. I'm just happy that somebody on the board cares - Lord knows some of our absentee board members have been less than engaged. That's what elections are for, I guess.

Christmas in Florida for the birds

That title reflects not my sentiment, but that of my wife, who today made an effort to get into the holiday spirit, and put out a few of our holiday decorations. She also purchased some new stuff, including a beautiful table runner with cardinals. Cardinals are also "the birds on the bat" and trigger thoughts of St. Louis, where we lived for almost thirty years.



So, here we find ourselves, living full time in Florida and one of us is enjoying that more so than the other. I'll let you figure out which is which. All I can say is "thanks, Caitlin, for getting pregnant a mere six weeks after I sold our Missouri condo, and eliminated a place where your mother could stay now that she's a proud grandmother. If you and Matt had succeeded just six weeks sooner, I'd not be in the perpetual doghouse with Ripley.

Oh well, your mother has started to make a Christmas effort, and we started with birds. A funny story to share about those wreaths hanging outside, which ties into the theme here. In the big house in Missouri, one year we had a seasonal wreath hanging on the front door. We tended to come and go through the garage, and unbeknownst to us, a small bird had taken up residence in the wreath. One day, opening the front door (which naturally swings inward), a bird flies out of the wreath and into the house. Today, when I helped change out the wreaths from the autumn wreath to the Christmas wreath, extra care was taken to avoid bringing any birds into the house. Of course, this being Florida, it wasn't a bird we were concerned about - it was the little gecko lizards.

To quote the little green guy on television, "fifteen minutes could save you....." but can these first glimmers of holiday cheer save Christmas? I sure hope so. Otherwise, I'm looking at a cold and long Winter in a very hot place.

The Perpetual Pool Project

Today, the cement trucks were expected to arrive, but of course they didn't, because this is the infamous Winding Oaks Pool Project. Disappointment and delay seem to have been the bywords for this on again, off again, costly project. It involved one arguably incompetent "engineer" suggested by the management company. The engineer was eventually fired, and the referring management company subsequently went south as well. The new engineer had to almost rewrite the entire project due to the many mistakes found - mistakes we homeowners paid for of course. I hope we remember this when it comes time to retire certain members of the homeowners association board.

Aside from this being "three years in the making" of which we've personally waited 14 months and counting, you can see that it is actually closer to completion than starting. I chose to use a larger picture which shows in detail the vapor barrier and the metal lattice work awaiting the pour of the initial "lift" of cement. A finish layer will then follow for painting. The pictures are taken from end to end, along the length of the new pool. The new pool is longer than the old, but not as deep. It does slope down to 4.5 feet where two defined lap lanes are established. Elizabeth hopefully will be able to get back to swimming after the first of the year, as that is one exercise she enjoys without too much pain.

The pool is convenient, I'll give you that, as it's just thru the recently thinned out trees behind our condo. Newer members of our board insisted on spending the money necessary to clean up the "park" area around the pool, and it's so much nicer now. In several months, I'll try to report on the fully completed project, which comes with several newer features like a "shade structure" which is a huge awning at one end of the pool. One of the residents has done a thorough job of chronicling the progress these past several months. His reports are on YouTube under Winding Oaks News Service or the like.

I'm ready for the "just add water" stage, but for now the signs that say "no diving" really have a consequence should one try.

New arrival challenges Ripley's place in pecking order

This is Cole Robert Kreienkamp, recent arrival in the home of Matthew and Caitlin Wild Kreienkamp. Cole was born on 11-22-11 (a palindrome) at St. Luke's Hospital in St. Louis County, Missouri, where his mother had also been born some 28 years earlier. He is the first grandchild, and I've been challenged to come up with a name for him to call me. I suggested Hizzoner, but my wife suggested I be serious. Maybe I'll be Daddy John, as I remember calling my maternal grandfather Daddy Clem. My paternal grandfather never made it past my father's late teens, passing from a heart attack in the 1930's.

Cole came into the world at !2:49 AM, which gave him that "same backward as well as forward" birth date. I think that's really kind of neat. He also had a full head of hair, so unlike so many babies who are born looking like Eisenhower, he looked more like Moe Howard. His poor father has less hair on his head than his son, although there is talk that hair color and density may change in the next few weeks. I'm also told that women who give birth to children with full heads of hair experience heartburn during their pregnancy - I'll have to ask Caitlin if that was true for her.

Anyway, Cole is now here, one week early and Caitlin was ready to move to the next phase. Knowing my daughter, she'll snap back into shape quickly. Her oldest dog, Jo Jo, has shown a maternal instinct toward the child, while young Toby appears frightened by this new arrival. I plan to meet the child when driving weather improves, but my wife will fly north to visit in a week. That'll be about right when Caitlin is willing to say "here - take this child" and head out with friends knowing he'll be in good hands. My wife says "the best side of grand-parenting is the ability to enjoy the child, then hand him back".

Until Cole learns how to jump into my lap, and give me wet sloppy Beagle kisses, Ripley's place is safe in my life and heart. C'mon boy, grab your leash and we'll go for a walk.

We were young and gay

Well, one of us was, anyway. Funny how that movie phrase from a much earlier era completely took on a different connotation for our generation, and a term of open acceptance for our children's. I chose these black and white photos of my youth, and of the youth I served with in Germany with the Air Force. Black and white because the word "gay" in the era of old black and white movies always meant "marked by exuberance or happy excitement" or "merry". Webster set out a second definition of "bright, especially in color", and third was "full of or given to social pleasures". Down around definition number five was "homosexual". I'm happy to say that today, number five doesn't exclude the first four. We've come a long way, baby, And forty years later, Communism may have wavered and ultimately waned, but terrorism is far more of a threat to our way of life, and it's time for all of us to set aside any perceived differences and pull together for the collective good.

Three of those of us pictured, circa 1970 in Germany, were batting .750, but one of us was four for four. And yet we all focused on those first three meanings, having the exuberance of youth in a strange land, far from the world of war that was Vietnam. And while nobody could say our attire was bright, we all shared the color blue - as in Air Force blue. And from the picture of Pete and Phyllis, clearly some of us were given to social pleasures.

The best news, is that we all stayed in touch, and we all share that same affection we had for each other today. Perhaps it was because we all shared a common adversary, the military mind which not only stifled creativity but seemed threatened by it. And as broadcast journalists, we were anything but military. I am so proud of my Air Force brothers, and thought of these guys yesterday on Veterans Day, November 11, 2011. All those elevens could also be read as ones - and five Aces will always be a winning hand. And yes, there are six in 11/11/2011, but we'll call that last one "one for good measure".

I salute you Don, Pete, Phyllis, and my other broadcast brothers known and unknown. As we of the Vietnam generation say "welcome home, brother (and sister)", we of all generations of our nation's warriors thank those who went before, and those who have followed. God Bless you all.

Coat of many colors

I was told by a good friend that "you are the most courageous man I know, to post that picture." What? I wore this coat for the recent Time Life Malt Shop Memories Cruise that departed Tampa last Thursday for three days, visiting the Bahamas for one day, but focusing on featuring singing acts from the 50's and 60's.

I wore similar fabrics during my four years in high school, when the "cool" people actually wore madras coats, shirts, pants, etc.
Funny story is that during my high school Junior Year (1964) we had an Indian exchange student named Vinay Deshpande, who told us that "in my country, only the beggars wear madras cloth". Gee, and we thought it was so "prep" back in Indianapolis. Maybe that says more about Indianapolis, than anything else.

Anyway, I took it along for the "sock hop" event, which was rained out on the main deck - had to settle for seeing the Beach Boys twice. I snuck in for the second seating, preferring to listen to them a second time than to hear a bunch of old guys who never left Philly and were singing "do-whop" in the Centrum. So, while wearing it I decided to "sit" for the photos you see taken on shipboard and sold for outrageous prices ($29.95). I ended up with about 24 to choose from using various backdrops, but got it down to two - one of which was paid for by "shipboard credit" from the cruise. The second one I purchased was with one of my tropical shirts. I was tempted to buy several others, but decided two were enough. Later I was told by a buddy that he'd buy one or two, then take digital pictures of the others he didn't buy. Damn, should have thought of that myself.

Actually, I love this jacket and have worn it several times to church, where somebody called me Joseph (Old Testament reference for my unchurched friends). And it's probably better than my Kiwanis bright orange blazer. Funny coincidence - both the Madras jacket and the orange blazer cost the same. Hey, for $99 bucks, who could pass up such a bargain. It's all about the Benjamin's they say, and if you can be a fashion plate [or perhaps at least a soup bowl] for under $100, you go for it.

Malt Shoppe Memories Cruise

Yes, that's Uncle Jesse (John Stamos) playing guitar with Mike Love of the Beach Boys. The Beach Boys today had only two of the original members (Mike Love and Bruce Johnston), but were supplemented by John Stamos (of Full House fame) and John Cowsill (the youngest of The Cowsill Family who recorded Hair and The Rain, The Park, and Other Things in the late 60's) who both played drums during the two shows I attended on the Carnival ship Inspiration. I've posted a number of other pictures on my Face Book page (John David Wild) under Rock & Roll Concert in the photo albums.

The gentlemen on the left is Ernest Evans, who turned 70 this month. You know him as Chubby Checker, who was given that last name by Dick Clark's wife, when she compared his Chubby first name (given him as a youth by an earlier employer) to Fats Domino. Fats Domino, Chubby Checker - a star was born doing a dance considered obscene in those days - the Twist. We had several opportunities to meet him, and listen to his story - a truly decent man who made his mark in music for my generation.

Another favorite was Lou Christie, who recorded Two Faces Have I, Lightnin' Strikes (probably his best known) and Rhapsody In The Rain. That last one was restricted on American Forces Network as the lyric went "and in my car, our love went much too far" and referenced another lyric "the windshield wipers seemed to say...together, together" - pretty racy stuff for that time. Lou, among several others on the ship, wasn't hitting those high notes quite as I remembered, but then again neither can I.

The cruise went from Tampa to Freeport, Bahamas, and back. Freeport wasn't that hot a town, but the action was all on the ship anyway. Poodle skirts and leather jackets, t-shirts rolled up with cigarette packages stuffed up the sleeve, and saddle oxford shoes were legion on the decks. Even Little Anthony (of Little Anthony and the Imperials fame) was performing renewal of vow marriages onboard. When not singing, he's an ordained minister. Sadly, Jay Black (as in Jay and the Americans) had canceled due to a heart attack several weeks before the cruise. Like our WW II veterans, these guys are Rock & Roll's greatest generation and will not be with us forever, but the music will go on, and on, and on........

It's Just Lunch?

Up near the gate, there was an exhibit for the non-profit Lions, Tigers and Bears, Inc., which rescues animals no longer wanted by their owners. They brought along a Siberian Tiger for "show and tell", and the tiger was taking it easy. When I snapped this picture, he wasn't showing a lot of energy although it was a cool day in far eastern Manatee County. He apparently was not aware that mere yards away, a petting zoo was a veritable smorgasbord of tasty treats, including this goat. I'm sure the goat was happy the tiger was in a cage. Tonight, the tiger will go home to DeSoto County, and the goat will bed down at the petting zoo. It's said that good fences (and strong cages) make good neighbors, but County lines are even better should the tiger have been interested in asking the goat out for dinner.

Pumpkin Festival, part deux

Today was spent "out east" of I-75, where SR 70 meets County Road 675. We found Hunsader Farms Pumpkin Festival, where all number of activities were taking place. It was almost a County Fair, and better than most I've ever attended. I saw no fewer that four venues where live music (Both Kinds - Country and Western) was performed, and over 100 craft booths offered great gift ideas. We found a Christmas gift for Caitlin's unborn son, Cole, who arrives sometime after Thanksgiving. We walked away with lots of neat foodstuffs, and while there I sampled a hot pretzel and fresh squeezed lemonade.

The crowd was large, but fit well within the confines of the farm, and parking was efficient and worth the $5 charge, if only for the opportunity the slide the Corvette through corners of dirt paths (where vegetables probably grew just weeks ago). We got there so early that we didn't pay at the gate (nobody there at opening to collect the $8.00 fee people were paying as we were leaving around noon. Readers know how I love a bargain, so I was even happier on the way out once I saw what I saved by coming early.

A little history of the place - back in 1967, three Hunsader brothers decided to leave frigid Wisconsin and their dairy farm to try their luck raising vegetables in the Florida sunshine. You don't have to get up at dawn to milk vegetables, so it made sense to them at the time, and by 1990, the operation had grown and was handed down to their sons, who gave the property the name Hunsader Farms. The family wanted to show the farm heritage, and opened a barn style Farm Market in 1990, adding a petting zoo in 1991, and the Pumpkin Festival followed the next year. This year would be the 19th running of that event, and we saw a Pioneer Trades Village, a fellow carving wood sculptures with a chain saw, pony rides, hayrides, and a corn maze for adults, with a hay bale maze for toddlers and young people.

It was a great day weather wise, cool but sunny and not a hint of rain. Although it was supposed to be a Corvette Club event, we never saw another member and suspect they all went to the car show in Clearwater - they missed a neat County Fair experience, and we didn't even purchase a pumpkin. We'll definitely go back sometime, as I'm sure I missed a lot of stuff, but the good news is that I intentionally missed the deep fried Twinkies, the deep friend Butter, the deep friend Elephant Ears, and other entrees that feature the sound effects of your arteries slamming shut. An event like this can be a real challenge for a guy on a diet.

Corvette Club trip to Hunsader Farms

Hey, who knew that peppers came in all different colors? Seeing is believing, however, and this shot (taken with my phone) demonstrates how pretty a pepper can be. Sure, we all knew about green peppers, and of course red peppers, and I'd even see yellow peppers from time to time. My wife has seen even orange peppers - these are all "bell peppers", by the way.

My wife had never seen purple peppers, and my wife is much better at this food thing than I shall ever be. She watches the Food Network and other cooking channels on cable, and is always willing to try something new in the kitchen. So, at the price of two for a dollar, we now have a new color palate for a salad, and of course with Ranch dressing, we can also serve them cold as snacks.

I just thought this picture was far more interesting than another Corvette picture - which by the way we missed anybody else who was "meeting up" at the Publix just west of I-75, so we were a club trip of ourselves, and had a great time. Elizabeth said "let's go and find some produce" so without others present, we did just that.......and more. As it turned out, Hunsader Farms was the "Home of the Pumpkin Festival" and this weekend there was also a walk to support a charity for Down's Syndrome. We're from West St. Louis County, where Rombach's is the local pumpkin farm - Hunsaders is Rombachs on steroids, and then some.

I'll be talking about what more we saw, but this picture was just perfect and merited it's own blog entry. I'm a pepper, she's a pepper, wouldn't you want to be a pepper too.

For Beverly

I got an email today, from a friend up in Canada, who noted I had not done anything on my blog for a good 20 days, which I suppose is most unlike me. Beverly and John live in Nova Scotia and have a home at Cedars Tennis Resort, but reside in/on Cape Breton Island, and like so many seasonal residents of our island here in Florida, tend to stay in touch over the Internet. So, this one's for you, Beverly, and hello to all other readers who may have noticed my absence.

I'm OK, and just very busy - hardly have time to sit in my easy chair with my best buddy Ripley (as shown here). They told me it was my turn in the barrel, so I'm now President of the local Kiwanis Club, and will be until September 30th, 2012, when I hand off the reigns to another Kiwanian. I've been Club Secretary now since 2005, and had that job pretty well figured out, but now I wear several hats. In addition, I'm involved in our BIG fundraising project, the St. Jude Gourmet Luncheon, which has morphed into the Kiwanis Foundation Lawn Party, supporting our scholarship program AND St. Jude Children's Hospital. Am busy selling raffle tickets, for $100, to win either a 2012 Volkswagen Jetta, or $20,000 CASH. I've set a personal goal to sell one hundred tickets, and with 30 days left I'm perhaps narrowing the gap between where I am and halfway home. Friends know where to find me, so if interested, I'd be VERY happy to help sell you a one in 400 chance to win. Second prize is $2,000, and there are additional prizes down the line.

Next Sunday we meet in our new church, at 6400 GMD. My wife went inside for choir practice two nights ago, and says it's still got a lot of finish work to do. That included carpeting yet to be laid, so whatever sound they had Wednesday will be a lot different come Sunday with square footage of carpet and fabric seated and backed chairs present. I'll try to remember to take my camera, which will follow up on earlier blogs about the church. Tomorrow we plan to go to the pumpkin patch with the Corvette Club, which will be my first outing with them since the Corvette Weekend several weeks ago up Orlando way. That was a great time, and I had a lot of fun. Elizabeth went north that same week to visit Caitlin, who is expecting our first grandchild (a boy) after Thanksgiving. I posted some pictures of him on FaceBook, until Caitlin asked me not to - he was the "bump" in the pictures.

Besides Kiwanis, I remain active in the many issues that come before me as a Planning & Zoning Commissioner on the island, and yesterday testified in favor of passing an ordinance to allow dogs on our beach, with the proper regulations and restrictions. Dogs become family, and dog owners are responsible people who pick up after their dogs, but our island is one where "I'd like to help you out, which way did you come in" has sadly been the norm and is only slowly changing now that people realize NIMBY is selfishness personified. P&Z is also dealing with cell phone towers, and trying to find a happy compromise while looking to the fact our present ordinances governing telecommunications haven't been reviewed in over ten years. Technology marches on, and we must stay current. Retirement doesn't mean come here to play dead, it means to find ways to maximize your lifestyle, without doing harm to others. Of course, stealth to one person is "in your face" to another.I did manage to wear my stealth bomber jacket to the hearing, and nobody noticed it - so eventually an answer will come, after platoons of lawyers have fought over the field and dollars have been thrown down the appropriate ratholes.

So, a busy Fall season for me, and now you're all caught up. Thank you, Bev - when you get back to Florida, you and John have to come visit the new house in Winding Oaks. That goes for my other friends as well. I'll try to post more often, and thanks for reading Walk on the Wild side.

The Women of Wildwood - a Pictorial

While I was traipsing through the corridors of an art museum today, trying to improve my mind, my wife was eleven hundred miles away swilling coffee with the old neighborhood girls. This is not to say the ladies are old, it's just that they live in our old neighborhood. Elizabeth was up to visit my very pregnant daughter and to attend a baby shower, plus assorted shopping for items not easily found in Florida (for some reason Christopher and Banks has no stores in this area, and the proximity to Kohl's requires a good half hour drive from our island).

That's the problem living on an island with no bridges that connect directly with the mainland, so you have to go over a bridge at either end which can be up for boat traffic to pass, thus adding ten minutes to each transit. And, an island with zoning so draconian that no fast food, or significant goods and services can locate there. We have one grocery store, one filling station, one viable dry cleaner, etc. Logically, you could see how easy it would be to transit the bay (and the Inter-coastal) at 53rd Avenue, which turns into SR 70, but logic doesn't work here on LBK. Nor did it really work in the Peoples Democratic Republik of Wildwood, where the local anti growth activists have slowly but surely starved out free enterprise through zoning.

Well, at least the girls have found a coffee ship.

Art Appreciation 101

On Monday this week, in the absence of my wife and no longer armed with a Corvette weekend to occupy my time, I did some scouting of things cultural. Now, you say "You John, doing something cultural?" Yes, I know I tend to spell 'Kulture with a K', but this town literally is crawling with highbrow things to do, so I decided to throw myself into a brand new pond in my old age.

Besides, on Mondays it's open for Free Admission, as a stipulation in the Ringling Last Will and Testament, granting free access to the people of Florida when he donated these works of art. That guy standing next to the painting is a docent, who guides people through all 21 galleries of the John and Mabel Ringling Museum of Art. For a docent, he was pretty decent and didn't talk down to us even as he could have - instead he educated us as to periods of art, and the artists that Ringling collected. And those were artists I actually had heard of, being a liberal arts graduate and all around bon vivant.

Velazquez, Van Dyck, Gainsborough, and perhaps most well known Rubens (he's that guy that paints all those BBW's). Then there was the courtyard, which was full of early twentieth-century bronze and stone casts of Classical, Renaissance and Baroque sculptures. Now, I really did learn some stuff, like how early paintings had to show halos around the heads of religious luminaries since the people were generally uneducated but venerated religious icons. How early painters had difficulty in painting people to proper scale in still life tableaus and how it took perhaps two hundred years from the Classical to the Renaissance period to develop a more realistic depth of field to separate background from foreground.

I am, last but not least, a student of background, which probably explains that third "art appreciation" photo showing what had to be the most exciting object d'art in the place. Too bad I didn't get her name, but then again she didn't hear the shutter trip, so my best lines went unused. If you want to know more, I'd suggest www.Ringling.org as an appropriate link. The John & Mabel Ringling Museum of Art is The State Art Museum of Florida, under the auspices of The Florida State University. As you'll recall from earlier blogs, both my daughter and my money went to Florida State.

Cruise Ship Tour Insurrection

Just like the Pirates of the Caribbean, occasionally the tour operators and the cruise ship companies apparently conspire to make money off the passengers, which is OK if it's adding value to both sides of the transaction. This is a story of where that "value and consideration" train not only wrecked, but was eventually tossed overboard.

Let's start with Truth in Advertising: This $99 tour was advertised as a "4x4 Adventure and Safari" which implied to all ten of us on the tour as an off road adventure. To add insult to injury, on the shipboard television, the tour showed open topped jeeps driving on dirt roads. So we, and four other unsuspecting couples took the plunge and signed up. We all figured - "hey, this is a great bargain" as it would be a six-and-one=half hour tour for under one hundred bucks. Caveat emptor (let the buyer beware) certainly proved to fit this situation.

So, on the day of the tour (St. Maarten was the island), we all assembled on the dockside and were met by a person who was only there to take us to the tour person. She was a babe in the woods and didn't have much in the way of answers, nor excuses, as it turned out. We walked to a small bus, and were driven to a rental car lot. That's the larger picture you see, of brand spanking new FOUR DOOR Jeeps (with hardtops, mind you). And the tour leader then laid another bombshell on us - on a six hour tour, we'd be "self-guided" by tuning the CB radio in each Jeep to channel 5, which would have to be reset after each stop. Our guide would go alone in the first jeep, and we'd follow (and listen) in Jeeps 2, 3 and 4.

Oh yes, another wrinkle - the jeeps had to carry a minimum of three, maximum of 5 passengers. Little miss tour guide of course had her personal jeep, and couldn't take anybody with her, so one couple ended up being broken up - naturally, me and Elizabeth. I rode with an Ohio deputy sheriff and his wife, Elizabeth had no clue other than "he was a truck driver, therefore a bit pissed that he had to drive". The third jeep had two couples in it.

The tour advertising talked about seeing things "off the beaten path", which may well have been another lie (we didn't stay long enough to determine this) since off we went, in these low mileage and fairly luxurious four door jeeps. Dutifully tuned to channel 5, we listened to our guide as she drove us on city streets and paved highways. OK, after passing three "ifyou'll look to your left" advisories where scenic overlook pull-offs where present, and we did NOT stop. That's one of the "scenic views" as shot through the windshield while Deputy Dawg drove.

The insurrection jelled at the first stop - a bar at the end of the runway, where the signs warned that jet blast could actually kill you. Oh great, this is what we paid for? Told we had half an hour to walk around, then back to the Jeeps, the tour guide quickly realized she was in trouble. All ten of us started comparing notes, and expectations in the parking lot. A vote was taken and it was unanimous - take us back to the ship or else. She didn't want to ask what the else would be, but quickly turned to the classic Nuremberg defense "I was only following orders". So, back into the luxury Jeeps, switching drivers so we all could have a chance to experience the "off road" city streets and highways - past the McDonalds, and to the rental yard where another foursome told us "hey, these jeeps can be rented for $100 a day". Oh great, we just paid $396 bucks for four of us to rent the same jeeps.

Turned in the keys, back on the bus and back to the ship. Naturally, nobody was there to meet us, so we walked en masse to the ship and presented ourselves to the desk staff. Ultimately, an officer appeared and agreed to refund all of the money, AND as a bonus promised us a free trip the following day. One of the couples actually traded up to a $124 golf outing the following day, we took the $66 bike tour of St. Croix, and Elizabeth left for a $99 spa treatment. And the best part - the cruise line promised to change the literature so others wouldn't be sucked into a $99 a day, six hour (buy your OWN lunch) ripoff.

Name that Flag

Now, the first thing you notice about Caribbean island nations are their national flags.

Can you identify this flag? No, despite the uncanny resemblance to "Star Fleet", it actually is for the island nation of St. Lucia. While I wasn't that impressed by Barbados and Antigua, I'd probably go back and explore a bit more of this lovely island, as well as St. Maarten (where half the island is governed by the Dutch, the other half by the French) and our final stop - which was St. Croix. St. Croix, along with American Virgins St. Thomas and St. John, fly the old Stars and Stripes proudly over these "most eastern land masses" under U.S. governance. The American Virgin Islands have one other unique feature - based on their earlier governance by Great Britain, they all drive on the "wrong" side of the road. We landed at Fredericksted, and didn't get to see the other major town, Christensted, so that's reason alone to go back.

Actually, the flag on the right is the command flag for the Enterprise, but you have to wonder if the government of St. Lucia wasn't under the influence of James Tiberius Kirk when they chose a flag at independence in 1979. One thing for certain, this island and its many sister islands all incorporate in some fashion the blue of the ocean, and the yellow of the sun, in their national flags. St. Lucia (named after Saint Lucy of France) was a marvelous island, where we did three events - the Segway, an off-road truck ride, and a beach adventure. As we came in, there was a small airstrip where I saw several turbo-prop aircraft come in and depart. So, I'm putting this island on my bucket list for an extended stay sometime - cruise ships are great to find these jewels in the Caribbean, but if you really want to enjoy them, a day is simply not enough.

Ten Years After

I decided to pull out a picture of me from during my term of Mayor of Wildwood, which dates the shot on the left somewhere in the 2000-2004 period. I'd guess 2001 from the shirt I was wearing (corporate logo cannot be seen, but we'd order new shirts for trade shows and that was just after Y2K). The shot on the right is current, from a funeral I attended several months ago. Funerals and church are the only occasions anymore for wearing a dress shirt and tie.

Several observations, of which the obvious one is that I STILL HAVE MY HAIR (eat your heart out, balding peers from the Class of 65). The other would have to be I still have those rosy cheeks which remind me that I really need to find a good dermatologist here in Florida in case the sun is doing me any harm. Finally, while my hair is still headed to gray, it hasn't completely turned. We'll see how long that lasts, but after one foolish foray into coloring my hair several years ago, which will never be forgotten by my wife and kids, I think I'll let nature run her course. Hey, I trusted the cosmetologist "cutter" who told me I'd look sexy or some other promise that simply ended up with me looking silly. This could also be attributed to vanity, which I now believe should be limited to using that word in the context of furniture only.

Well, soon I'll be a grandfather and baby Cole Robert Kreienkamp will arrive before I reach medicare eligibility. I guess I'm soon going to have to admit to being truly old, even though four Corvettes since 2004 would indicate me still firmly rooted in middle age crazy. Wonder if I can justify that fifth corvette in time for the child to truly appreciate riding with "gramps" in it. That assumes that Caitlin will allow me to take the boy for a ride - if somebody says I'm "wild and crazy", I can guarantee they're going to be at least half right, no matter what.

Put your stomach into it

This is a Segway X-2, capable of hauling otherwise poorly coordinated folk around an island under battery power - oh so green technology that's actually fun to ride. It's really quite fascinating, in that an onboard gyroscope is perfectly attuned to the riders body and will follow the slightest hint of direction. Closest thing I can relate it to was a Honda 50 from my youth, where you'd lean into the turns while moving the handlebars. The Segway, at $7,000 new and far more expensive than the classic Honda step-thru, does not have a kickstand. You simply find a slight uphill rise and point it in that direction, and like a well behaved horse it simply waits for you to remount. It also has a speed adjustment, which the tour guides waited till we were all doing OK, then asked if we wanted to "dial it up". No doubt the battery life was longer in the extended mode, but changing that speed dial made it VERY interesting and fun to ride. I had seen Segways on nearby islands, and in downtown Sarasota, as well as other Florida cities - at this point they're pretty much the province of tour operators and shopping mall security cops, but they may catch on. My wife said she'd love to have one, although it does tend to negate the exercise value of a bicycle.

To operate, simply step aboard and place your feet evenly spaced apart, with heel and toe equidistant from both ends of the floorboard. Grasping the mountain bike styled handlebars, lean your body forward to advance, tilt slightly backward to retreat. The stalk that supports the handlebars is like a joystick, and you can tilt it right to turn in that direction, or conversely tilt left for a counter-clockwise turn. By leaning and steering, you'd be surprised of the tight turning radius of this device. It helps to be completely stopped while dismounting - I watched a 275 pound ex-Army Captain put his in a ditch by cowboy riding. It took the tour operator and this large veteran to muscle it out of this deep ditch. Apparently he didn't follow directions to shift your weight to your heels to stop. The machine tends to encourage good posture, and your supposed to lean your otherwise ramrod straight body, but as you can see from the picture, I was using my own natural beer ballast to really throw myself into the adventure.

The first iteration of the Segway had one handlebar fixed and the other able to shift forward and backward - kind of like the Shimano gears on my bike. The X-2 eliminated that feature and made the machine even more intuitive, so clearly with a Segway "the horse knows the way" and all you have do do is steer with your body. In the one hour I rode it, I got to the point where I had one hand free to shoot video - which I'm not putting on the blog as it takes forever and a day to load up. Trust me, it's an easy skill set to master and I'd recommend all who can try it once or twice - the most fun you can have with your clothes on.

The Alpha and the Omega of my September 2011 trip

Two views of nature in the islands, one of immense strength and another of delicate beauty.

That's St. Croix on the left, with the waves breaking over coral rock and tossing Atlantic water onto the shore of this American territory in the U.S. Virgins. The orchids resided on Barbados, our first island stop where 30,000 orchid plants resided 850 feet above sea level in the middle of this island. You can learn more at www.orchidworldbarbados.com. These two pictures represent the bookends of the cruise, starting in Barbados and ending in St. Croix, from rare beauty to awesome power of water meeting land. And it also represented both ends of my travel - by bus to the Orchid World, and by bicycle six miles from Frederiksted to Ham's Bay (and back another six). A little known fact about St. Croix - the only American territory where people legally drive on the left side of the road. Of these two islands, I think I'd have to rank the last visited better than the first.

Escape to the Eastern Caribbean

If you've actually missed me, I was out of the office, so to speak. For a week, no phone calls, no emails, not even getting up to walk the dog.

Now, fans of Ripley Wild can rest assured that he too was on vacation. Ripley went to the home of his foster mom, Lori, where he got lots of loving and enjoyed her very large fenced yard and three other beagles to run and play alongside.

Rip actually had a longer vacation than did I, having gone with Lori and Kevin on Saturday after we all had a chance to introduce our "inland" Floridian friends to the island life of Longboat Key. Ripley has always been quick to jump into a car and go for a ride, and his trip lasted till this past Sunday (9.18.2011) when we arrived back at the Tampa airport to be picked up by my son. Then, it was off to pick up Ripley in a Tampa suburb, and with all four of us in a VW, back to the island.

So, where did I go? - lots of places I'd not seen before, starting with Barbados, then Antigua, followed by St. Lucia, St. Maartin, and finally ending in St. Croix before sailing overnight back to San Juan, Puerto Rico. One day at sea, then five islands, each for a glorious day. Can't wait until my next ship, and my next trip.

Small boys eventually grow up

Today we had a visit from an old friend who lived next door to me back in our mutual home city of Indianapolis. We hung out together in the neighborhood and did the usual stupid things boys did. Eventually he moved away, and I finished high school and attempted college. If I recall, both of us were not the greatest scholars in school, but we both managed to graduate. As it turned out, we lost touch with each other for periods of time, during which we both served in the Air Force, unbeknownst to each other. I got married, he got married, we both had a son and a daughter (although in reverse order for him), and eventually we both ended up living in Florida. I'm retired and drawing social security, he's still working to pay my social security. Thanks, buddy!

John (his name also) and his wife live two hours north (although his driving tends to shorten that time frame) in Wesley Chapel, and today with their 19 year old son visiting friends in Seattle, and their married daughter in Hawaii, we had a chance to meet up and do lunch on the island. The picture of the two of us shows graceful aging - both still have our own hair, and our wives insist both of us are going deaf. It's called "marriage deafness - or selective hearing". Say something really offensive to a male, and we'll hear it.

It's really nice to have these mini-reunions from time to time, to talk about kids, politics (a safe topic, we're both conservatives), hopes for our children, etc. Both are daughters are married, both our sons are single. His daughter is a combat photographer in the Air Force, mine is a combat manager in a bank branch (so far neither have been shot at......yet). We might beat him to having grandkids however, as our daughter is expecting after Thanksgiving. Once that happens, we'll probably get together again and wives will look at baby pictures, and we'll once again voice our disappointment in our current government. The more things change, the more they stay the same - except with each passing year we get better at NOT hearing what our wives think we should be doing instead.

Oh yes, Ripley (whose contract calls for frequent mention in my blog) was a good boy and continued his recovery from his recent back surgery. He has found a new place to rest, under the dining room table.

Doing his best to look pathetic...........

"Each night I ask the stars without fail..why must I be a good beagle in jail" With apologies to Dion and the Belmonts, this must be going through Ripley's beagle brain, as he is following his doctors orders to stay calm and heal from his recent back surgery. That doesn't mean he likes this, but it is going to be his fate for the next two weeks until he goes back to Critical Care & Veterinary Specialists of Sarasota, where his doctor Anne Elizabeth Chauvet has given him the absolutely best care and love. We can't say enough about this practice, but what we can say is "it's the absolute top place to take a pet for critical care".

Ripley, however, being the object of Dr. Anne's neurosurgery is less enthusiastic about his current predicament, where he is very restricted in his usual ability to run, jump and climb things. For the next fortnight, he only gets to come out to go out, and for several applications of cold compresses on his back, with plenty of tactile attention. When he came home, they sent not only great instructions on his recovery care, but a great CD explaining in civilian terms all about his issues, which unscientifically might be called a crushed disc.

In med speak, he had a Hemilaminectomy level 1 L1-2 left, and Fenestration T12-13 to L3-4., following an MRI. Now, I'm sort of a car guy, and I know what a Hemi is, and I also learned long ago that the word "defenestration" was from the Latin 'fenestra' or window, and is defined by Webster as "An act of throwing something or someone out of a window". The stock market crash of the late 1920's featured a lot of defenestrations, but recent markets not so much - the windows on Wall Street don't open anymore.

I know Ripley was not thrown out of a window, because the care he got was very special, so maybe I need to ask Dr. Anne when we take him back in two weeks for a check up. Until then, we'll have to explain it with that wonderful phrase ' je ne sais quoi'.

Stay tuned to these blog pages for Ripley updates.

Ripley and his love for veternarians

My wife and I just returned from visiting Ripley Wild at the Critical Care and Veterinary Specialists of Sarasota LLC. This was his second surgery in under a month - you'll recall the "peach pit" incident from prior blog entries.

This time, Ripley had what I think was identified as a crushed disc in his back, which we believe happened a week ago when he was with his girlfriend Bonnie, the young West Highland Terrier. We've warned Ripley about younger women, and how you don't want to rough-house too much, but he didn't listen apparently. We humans were in the other room, while Rip and Bon-bon were chasing each other. We heard a loud YELP from Ripley, but have no idea what he ran into, but clearly he hit something. We took him to our vet, who recommended Dr. Anne Elizabeth Chauvet, DVM/DACVIM - Neurology. She's not only a specialist, but like most animal doctors, she's very special to her patients. She and her partner Dr. Schneider, took good care of our boy, and from the report following surgery, Ripley will have a full recovery and no more pain. We can go pick him up tomorrow she thought.

When he walked into the room under his own power (just a few hours following the procedure) he came straight into my arms. There is no better feeling for this "doggy daddy" to hold his baby beagle boy close, after too many nights without him, and before that almost a week of hope that this could be resolved with muscle relaxants and rest. The surgery wasn't inexpensive, but at my age I'd rather have a happy dog than a 40th anniversary cruise. The dog is never mad at me, while I give my wife plenty of excuses to shove me overboard. I don't have to lock my wife AND my dog in the trunk for an hour, come back, and see which one is mad at me - I know the dog would still be happy to see me.

So, tomorrow we'll go fish out the Royal Caribbean VISA card, and add several thousand worth of future cruise points, and hope September is a slow month in the life of our fast little beagle. I suspect his instruction for plenty of bed rest and only trips outside to do his business will keep him out of trouble. I've told him, no more unsupervised play with Bonnie, and perhaps he should trade her in for an older, more refined French Poodle. His doctor is French, and he seems very taken with her. An international love story - American boy meets Scottish lassie, ends up in the hospital and is nursed back to health by a lovely French woman - let's make a short story out of this and sell it to The New Barker magazine. Who knows, maybe Animal Planet will pick up the option.

Will report again after we pick him up at the hospital, with the certainty that there'll be lots more pain killers in the medicine cabinet. Wonder how "Doggie Darvon" works on 200 pound males? I'm in pain without my boy around to love.

(FRIDAY UPDATE) Rip came home today, and is resting comfortably in his crate. We have a very complete set of instructions to follow, and will be keeping him calm for a fortnight.

Setting the "way back machine" to the late 60's

Of late, I've found myself thinking of my time in Europe spending my misbegotten youth behind a microphone and next to a couple of turntables. It's been a trip down memory lane, amplified by my I-pod getting a cash infusion in the form of a gift card, and my own Pandora internet radio (playing in my ears as I compose this). Bryan Hyland's "Sealed with a Kiss" playing right now, as a matter of fact.

Those familiar with Jay Ward and The Adventures of Rocket J. ("Rocky") Squirrel and Bullwinkle J. Moose will also remember Mr. Peabody and Sherman - hence the reference to the "way back machine". If only time travel were possible, one wonders how you'd change things.

But it's not, right?........but then again I never thought the "replicator" on Star Trek was really possible until I recently saw a video of an incredible 3D printer (see this link http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SboxMsSz5Aw&feature=player_embedded ). If that doesn't work, just google 3D Printer. Now that we've established the future is now, back to the story.

So, there I was adding stuff to my I-pod, and probably driving my wife crazy as she likes peace and quiet more than listening to me rock out in the other room, but the funny thing is that of late my tastes have mellowed. No longer content to just listen to the Beach Boys, Eagles and the Mamas and Papas, I've been adding Neil Sedaka and Bobby Darin and (OMG) Barry Manilow and Neil Diamond. Yes, just shoot me - Bette Midler, Streisand and Cher ("Believe" and "Turn Back Time") are revealing I'm getting dangerously close to my "feminine side". Anybody got a vial of testosterone? I may need a shot soon.

Now, before you think I've switched teams (sorry, guys), I'm also rocking out to Jefferson Starship ("We Built This City") and Katrina and the Waves ("Walking on Sunshine"), and Timbuk 3 doing "Future's So Bright". I've done both sides of Madonna with "Material Girl" as well as "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina". Olivia Newton John's "Physical" and Sheryl Crow's "All I Want To Do" also reside on my I-pod. Oh, can't forget Cyndi Lauper's "Girls Just Want To......" so maybe I better end this and go bitch slap myself back to that place where I was just enjoying myself playing those car songs and being "Footloose", where life was a whole lot simpler and I was just another pretty face behind the microphone. I still remember my buddies telling me "you have a face for radio". Of course, the best part of being on radio - and especially in Stuttgart where I was the only USAF guy on an Army facility - was that military haircuts were easily ditched. If they couldn't see you, they couldn't catch you. You'll note my non-military locks as I boarded a boat in Amsterdam on R&R ("rock and roll, naturally).

Forty years later, I still find myself asking "Does Anybody REALLY Know What Time It Is?" and I guess the answer is "it's my time". So, signing off from station WILD, and breaking on through to the other side. Be sure to close the Doors behind you.