Friday, September 19, 2008

Topsail Beach #4

Yesterday was a curious day here at the beach. We were pretty much held prisoner by various types of winged insects. The biting flies were still bad on the beach with the North wind; the gnats were bad on the main deck of the villa, leaving only the small deck that had enough wind and sun to run all the little varmints off. We were finally able to go down to the pool in the afternoon for a while. Vickie braved the beach while wearing 300% Deet and collected some more shark’s teeth. We did have some enjoyable time since the shrimp boats were very close inshore, and we were able to watch the antics of the sea birds behind them and see some porpoises frolicking around. The rest of the day I read a book, surfed the net, worked on my writing, and made a run to CVS for mom. (oh and napped a little) We noticed a large group gathering at the pool that all seemed to know each other. Turn s out it looks like there is going to be a wedding here Saturday.

Last night we had an early dinner of leftovers, and Vickie and I set off for the fishing pier. It was cool, so we got out the jeans, socks, long sleeve shirts, etc. We rounded up everything we needed and took off for the Seaview Pier, which is about 2 miles from here. Earlier in the evening, we had made a preliminary reconnaissance to make sure the pier was not infested with flies. The crabby old man at the pier didn’t want to let us walk out and check (for free) but Vickie prevailed. We talked to several patrons and they assured us the biting flies were not a problem. We promised Crabby we’d be back. (little knowing he was secretly plotting his revenge). Later, shortly after Thursday evening dinner, we arrived at the pier with all our gear, and expected the $7.00 ea charge it said on the Internet. Well it turned out to be $8 and it wasn’t even good for 24 hrs—only till 6 am Fri day. So admission plus the little bag of (recommended) bloodworms came to something like $26.36. What Crabby failed to mention was that if we came to fish after 9pm the admission was good until 6am Saturday. (we probably got there about 8:30 and they grinned the whole time they fleeced us-Crabby’s Revenge)

We trouped out onto the pier—acting like we had a clue what we were doing. We picked a spot, and I rigged up our poles and cut up some worms for bait. (Vickie wasn’t real happy about this process). We started fishing, and pretty soon Vickie caught a fish. It was a little Spot, and we threw it back. Pretty soon Vickie got into the spirit of the whole thing and even started baiting her own hooks. (she drew the line at cutting up live worms, however) Soon the moon rose and was the biggest roundest orangest moon we had ever seen. Vickie called the Moms to make sure they saw it.

We continued fishing, and caught several more small fish, Spots, Whiting, and a Croaker. But, the wind kept blowing harder and harder, and it kept getting colder. After I managed to break the line on my fishing pole (and didn’t know how to tie the necessary knots to repair it) Vickie set off to get my pole repaired and get some warmer clothes. I continued fishing (well mostly feeding worms to little fish) and shivering. One thing that happened while she was gone—a fellow showed up to fish looking very experienced. He set up all his gear, baited his hooks, and relaxed into a reclining position on one of those old tri-fold lounge chairs. He was all laid back with a little cheroot in his mouth when he got a bite on his line. He jerked the big fishing pole he had, lost his balance, the old chair collapsed under him, and he wound up laying in the middle of the pier, pole and cheroot in hand. All including him had a good laugh at the antics.

As it turns out, Vickie didn’t have the key to get into the villa, so by the time she got back an hour later, I was too cold to fish (Wally, my bass fishing brother-in-law, will tell you there is no such thing as too cold to fish), and she hadn’t brought any more clothes, so we called it a night. I figure it cost us around $20 an hour to fish, but we found out that Vickie and I can fish well together. Money well spent.

We went home to bed (warm bed), and after a good night’s sleep this morning we are watching the wedding preparations on the beach.

More later,

Wes

Topsail Beach #3

Yesterday I was introduced to the sport of shark tooth finding. Early in the day the flies disappeared, and the beach was perfect for me. (cool and cloudy) I went down and tried my hand at finding some shark’s teeth in the surf. It is pretty much fun and I caught on, inventing my own method that involved a child’s sand strainer and an adult beverage. Vickie soon joined me and we passed some idealic hours with just the surf, beach, and breeze. This time of the year when it isn’t burning hot but the water is still warm is so great.

After several hours of shark’s teeth hunting, I remembered that I wanted to go and find where the shrimp boats dock that we see every day in front of our villa. Everyone was interested so we packed up and headed out. Vickie had gotten some info from a long time resident about a special seafood place right on the water so we headed in that general direction. Rt. 172 when it leaves Sneads Ferry says Military Traffic only. That really isn’t true but it does terminate at the gate to Camp Lejune. But along the way the local’s directions told us to turn at the old Exxon. Well we turned at a new Exxon cause that’s where all the signs were pointing to water front restaurants and stuff. We followed the road back in the direction of the water, and came upon several waterfront restaurants, and venturing further we found the homeport of the shrimp boats. At one boat dock the deck hands had cables stretched out all over the parking lot so we turned around to avoid running over their cables.

We saw some more shrimp boats over the trees so we rode over there. Vickie got out and went over to talk to the fishermen. She came back carrying this huge shrimp with feelers about 6 inches long. (he was sort of a big smiling shrimp) She said they were for sale for $6.00 per lb. so we decided to get some. The man said they had been caught just in front of Topsail Island, so these were the shrimp boats we watched out our window in the morning. We got a big bag and Vickie’s Mom got the guy to de-head them for us. We scoped out the other fishing/restaurants in the area, and at one we found this very pretty blonde girl in short red Abercrombie shorts and white fishing boots. We took her picture along with very photogenic shrimp boats and a nice boy who posed for Vickie while he was cleaning up his boat.

Turned out to be a great trip and we headed home---ultra fresh crustaceans in hand. We stopped by the Food Loin and picked up the fixings for some turf to go with our surf along with some good horseradish for building seafood sauce. After arriving home, we put the turf in one Ziploc bag with appropriate seasoning, and the surf in another Ziploc bag with a citrus-parsley-garlic salt marinade we invented in Florida earlier this year. Vickie headed off to scope out the grill situation. This was going to be a new experience for her cause we were using charcoal instead of gas. (here Jerry laughs hysterically) But she rose to the occasion, and we had a great meal of local food in beautiful surroundings. As we are wont to do, after dinner it was books, cards, puzzles etc. till time to retire.

Today I got out my digital pocket recorder, and started making some notes about the curiosities of this “villa”. I hope to combine my observations into a Trip Advisor review and perhaps some interesting notes.

More Later,

Wes

Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Topsail #2

Sometimes I think I'm a little like Jerry Seinfield's show--a lot of drivel about nothing, but sometimes entertaining.

Tuesday was another great weather day here at Topsail. I got busy in the morning and erected our gazebo down on the beach. With reasonable weather and the good screw in sand anchors we have it is good to go for the week. Having it down there certainly makes sitting on the beach a much more pleasurable pastime. One of the reasons we did not go to our usual beach this time (Ocean Isle Beach-south of Wilmington) is they have banned beach gazebos. They used the very thin excuse of wanting to protect the sea turtles that nest on the island. But the years we have been there we have never seen a sea turtle nest interfered with by a beach gazebo. It's more about they just wanted to start an umbrella and chair rental concession to make more money. All they accomplished was to send long time Ocean Isle goers to other friendlier beaches. Oh well we are here and it's nice. The surf was pret ty stout all day Monday, and I went in swimming for just a little while. (paid for it later with joint pain) Mostly we just enjoyed the sun, sand, and surf all day. (oh and sat around and watched the stock market go in the toilet. I'd personally like to strangle some of the greedy folks that perpetrated this ridiculous real estate financing mess)

Tuesday Vickie and her mom went out to shop the local establishments for a while and Mother and I made use of the beach. The wind had changed and with it the surf was much calmer. I was able to get mother in for her long desired swim in the ocean. Unfortunately with the change in the wind came hordes of biting black flies. We didn't notice them while swimming, but as soon as you got out of the water they tried to carry you away. We bid a hasty retreat to the villa and started planning diner. We had originally planned to go out and get some shrimp from the local purveyors that sell the catch off the boats that ply the waters in front of our living room window. But as we were planning to have "shrimp on the barbie" Vickie went out to scope out the situation. It appeared she would have to fight the flies for use of the grills, so we went to plan B. Plan B happened to be a little restaurant I'd seen called the Clam Shack or something like that. We got all loaded up, found the place, and it was closed on Tuesday night. Well then we decided to ride down to Surf City and see what was there. Being off-season, that turned out to be non productive as well. Soooo it was back to the villa and an impromptu dinner of BLT sandwiches and cantaloupe. Turned out to be very good with everyone well satisfied. The girls played Skip Bo well into the night while I alternately read my book and snored. Later another day drifted off to tired beach sleep. We are still planning on getting some shrimp for The Grill Queen to put on the barbie and we are also contemplating some fishing on the pier. Perhaps tomorrow.

More later,

Wes

Topsail Beach #1

Hi again all. This week finds us on a trip to take our respective Mothers on a beach break. We're at Topsail Beach just South of Camp Lejune NC.

Here we are at Topsail Beach staying at the St. Regis Resort, not to be confused with any other resorts bearing the St. Regis name. We left Martinsville shortly after 09:00 Saturday, and picked up Vickie’s mom in Danville a little after 10:00 (I had picked up my mother earlier in the week from Wilkesboro). The Tahoe was happy handling our beach load, and the roof rack swallowed the beach gazebo and chairs all fastened with an assortment of bungee cords. We set off across North Carolina to the coast. We lucked up and managed to find a week between hurricanes. Of course we picked the week when gas went to $5.00 a gallon, but the trip wasn’t too far and I had filled the Tahoe up with $3.49 gas the day before. Vickie and I had put new shocks on the Tahoe Friday, so the ride was smooth. (It was a new learning experience for Vickie changing shocks—now she knows how to change brake pad s and rotors, and simple shocks) For trips like this with 4 people, luggage, beach stuff, and food, you really can’t beat a big old American SUV. We were sort of lamenting the other day—the Tahoe is finally paid for (60 months of “The General's” zero percent money), and it’s worth next to nothing. But to us it’s a good old hauler that uses a little too much gas. Heck it’s even got a flex fuel engine and can burn E85 if someone can ever figure out how to make it out of something besides food. We plan to drive it till the wheels fall off.

The trip down was uneventful, and after stopping in Goldsboro to check out a boat we have been looking at on the Internet, we arrived at the rental agency near the suggested check in time. Since it is “off season” the check in process was painless, and we were soon moved into our “Villa” for the week. The St. Regis touted on its web site that it had made $14 million in renovations recently. I don’t believe that included our particular unit. As with all beach rentals, you never know exactly what you are getting until you actually arrive. We were a little disappointed in the overall appearance of the place when we arrived. However as with any real estate location-location-location are the main three selling points. From that standpoint, this place is wonderful. It has a huge living area/kitchen with triple sliding glass doors overlooking the ocean, and a Master Bedroom with 3 wind ows and a smaller sliding glass door overlooking the ocean. The other two bedrooms both have a direct ocean view with access to another deck. The pool is close by and there are two elevators to the floor. (although someone told mother in high season with a billion kids the elevator wait is interminable)

We set about making the place our own. Vickie, Mom and Mom, unpacked our stuff, and I attacked the kitchen. It is amazing how much “stuff” can accumulate in a beach rental unit kitchen over the span of a season. There were multiples of small frying pans, pots, lids, and enough assorted plastic ware to bail out the Queen Mary. Indomitable Vickie sat patiently in the middle of the kitchen floor sorting the “stuff” and mining the deep reaches of one closet that extended back behind the stove. We sorted out the stuff that was usable and piled everything else back in. We ended up with enough usable equipment to feed us for the week. The blender, however, was dead and this prompted an immediate call to the rental agent. There is no way Vickie and I can spend a week at the beach without a blender. Oh and while we were talking to the rental agent, we had to have her bring us linens. Eve n though Vickie had verified (twice) with the agents prior to the trip the correct linens to bring, somehow the mattress size and our sheets didn’t match in two of the rooms. I strolled back to find Lorayne and Mother both sitting on beds with fitted sheets covering ¾ of the mattress. But it all got handled and Dominos prepared a wonderful dinner, as they are wont to do many beach trip arrival days. We were all tired, so Vickie promised she would go with me early to the grocery store, and with that we turned in. The beds turned out to be great.

The next morning (Sunday) we were at the Food Loin soon after it’s 06:00 opening time. The store was well stocked and we enjoyed the fine selection. During high season beach grocery stores so often look like locusts have been there before you. Packing up all our purchases we headed back to the villa just in time to feed everyone breakfast. After breakfast it was off to the beach and pool to enjoy a bright, hot, sunny day. The weather was beautiful (if a little hot) for September, and the water temps were grand. I made a second trip back to the Food Loin since on Sunday in NC adult beverages are not available till after 11:00 (according to the clerk). But then I got to hang around the shopping area for an hour cause what the clerk really meant to tell me was the adult beverages were not available till noon. Vickie, Bert, and Lorayne, p assed the day with sun, fun, and women’s chat. I returned from my wanderings and caught up with them at the pool. Vickie also spent a great deal of the day looking for shark’s teeth in the sand. This is a new pastime that is more difficult than just looking for shells. She found a few, and planned to redouble her efforts the next day.

I fixed diner from the supplies we had rounded up at the Food Loin and all, well fed, gradually drifted off to bed.

More later,

Wes

Monday, September 01, 2008

Vero Beach #3

And the final chapter. I apologize for some of the "soap box" musings. Thanks for reading.

Vero Beach, The Return Trip

Well by now it was Monday mid day, and Vickie and I were packing for our drive back to Orlando. We had the TV on the Weather Channel keeping an eye on Faye and her path. In Vero Beach currently it was only overcast, and rain was coming only in showers. We were due to catch the train at 7:14 pm at the Orlando station about 2 hrs. away. Around mid afternoon, we headed out, picked up a late lunch at the Waffle House, and turned the PT Cruiser north. We drove off and on through rain as we headed north. We arrived in Orlando and found the train station much more easily than we thought. Since we had gotten quite lost leaving the station when we got there, we left ourselves plenty of time. This was good news and bad news. The good news was we arrived there ahead of rush hour in Orlando, which if judged by the non rush hour traffic, must be a BIG mess. Bad news was we had several hours to kill at the Orlando Train Station. We checked our luggage, and then had second thoughts about turning in the rental car after we found out the Orlando Train Station had no first class waiting area and very little to offer in the way of amenities than the same old wooden benches it had had for the last 85 years.

We decided since the train station appeared to be near to “stuff” we’d keep the rental car and go for an adult beverage at some local lounge till closer to actual departure time. After an hour of fighting traffic on Orange Avenue in both directions and finding nothing, we reluctantly headed back to the old Orlando Station to wait it out. From here I am going to quote some of the notes I made myself on my digital pocket recorder. I had time to wander around and deeply immerse myself in the ambience that is the Orlando Amtrak Station. My first note: “The Orlando Train Station is a relic. The Men’s Room isn’t even air-conditioned. The window is propped open and there is no screen. Amtrak is really missing the boat here---this is Orlando---this is where everyone comes to go to like Disney World, Sea World, Universal Studios, and stuff. This station is a disgrace. I’m starting to thi nk Amtrak is a disgrace, we’ll see how the trip home goes.” Needless to say my first impression of the station was not too good.

So we sat down to wait, Vickie immediately immersed in her world of crosswords and Sodoku. She is lucky that way; I think she could ignore most anything while playing those games. I picked up some kind of free newspaper and actually found some entertainment in it to ease the bench sitting. First thing I discovered is there is a new revolution in hearing aids. (us old folks are interested in this type of thing) Seems as though these new hearing aids made by Siemens called the TEK model, utilize Bluetooth technology, and allow you to listen to music or phone calls, or anything Bluetooth right through your hearing aids. No need for headphones to watch a movie on the laptop, or listen to your Ipod if such things are Bluetooth compatible.

Read an article by a guy running for High Sheriff of Orange County. He said he has 3 things he has to do once he’s elected. 1. get rid of all the corruption and misuse of funds in the department (where have I heard that before) 2. do something about street crime. He went on to say Orange County has 15-17 active gangs, crime is rampant in the streets and for juveniles it is a right of passage to commit an armed robbery or murder. He also went on to say the juvenile justice system was like a revolving door, so they got hundreds of repeat offenders. 3. he said he was 125 officers short on the street due to the low pay and high risk of injury due to #2 above. Also due to the low pay the officers were forced to live in substandard housing. Sounds like Orange County Deputy is not on the top of most desirable jobs. O yeah, and the low pay is due to the corruption and misuse of funds in #1. (I just visited Disney, and read this about the county I’ve been visiting. Boy do I want to come back here.)

After all the entertaining reading, I was ready for a walk, but not far from the train station and it’s relative security. Note: “Windows on the outside of the train station look like they haven’t been painted in about 35 years” Note: “Across the street from the train station is a building that says “Latin Food, Spanish Food, Beer, Cigarettes, Ice Cream, Eat In, Take Out, We Deliver, Plumbing, Re-piping, Hidden Leaks Sewer and Drain Cleaning, Spanish Meal Small $3.95, Spanish Meal Large $4.95.” So there you go, everything you could possibly want across the street from a train station.” I chose to stay on the train station side of the street. While surveying the train station exterior I noticed some stairs to a locked door. Through the dusty glass above the 1st floor, I could see an old lounge with books still on the shelves and reading chairs. Most probably was a nice reading lounge for passengers back in the day. I noted that it could be a nice 1st class lounge now, but then the trainmaster’s recent words echoed in my mind—“The state of Florida don’t want to invest nothing in this place.” This was in response when we asked if they had a 1st class lounge to wait in.

As I further wandered around the station noticing things, an Amtrak poster on the wall caught my attention. It said “The Beauty of North America and Canada, yours for 30 days.” Of course they were talking about the 30-day pass you can buy for travel on Amtrak. Some how in my head, with my current Amtrak experience, that translated into 30-day sentence on Amtrak

I went outside (on the rail side) and was admiring the architecture of the actual building that was the train station. It was really cool, with a tile roof and towers like you see on the Spanish mission type buildings. There is a large sign proclaiming Orlando to all passengers, and I can imagine what it was like in grander days. It is actually the old Seaboard Coast Line station from many years ago in RR history. I’m also thinking how it’s a shame it looks like they haven’t put a buck in this place in the last 50 years. (this will be important later)

Back inside I had a good time inspecting the 3 old wooden phone booths that would have made Superman proud. Two of them actually had pay phones still in them. Pay phones are a rare sight in this day of cell phone proliferation. I took some great pictures including a close up of the old vent unit up in the upper right corner of the booth. If you are old enough to remember these, you are in my target audience. Just beside these booths I noticed the Amtrak sign above the ticket window with the t and the r drooping below the other letters.

And just when I thought it couldn’t get any crazier, I noticed a plaque on the wall that said “George L Stuart, SR. Historic Preservation Award Presented to Orlando Amtrak Station Renovation by Downtown Orlando Partnership 1990” There was a plaque under it that went on to detail “ In appreciation for sponsoring the renovation of the Orlando Florida Amtrak Station dedicated on the 65th Anniversary of this historic landmark. Special thanks for your participation in the largest voluntary public lands stewardship project in the history of the city” It went on to list 50 or 60 folks and businesses that had done the sponsorship. I started doing the math. Station was 65 in 1991 that makes it 82 years old now and the “renovations” 17 years old. Only thing I can figure is they spent most of the money on receptions and congratulating themselves---they sure didn’t spend much money on the station. Boy did they fool me. (see above)

Got me to thinking---who owns railroad stations? Do the cities own them? Do the railroads own them? It says Seaboard Coast Line on the front of this one---that would make it owned by Southern RR, which is now NorfolkSouthern, one of the most profitable businesses going. Railroads are making record profits these days. Seems like someone could afford to upgrade at least the Orlando Amtrak station. How many foreign folks come through here to the local attractions and their impression of us is THE ORLANDO TRAIN STATION. I’ll bet the bus station is nicer. Oh yea, and where does the revenue go from the charges on my ticket and from the concession recovery fee on my rental car. Probably into the Orange County General Fund for corruption in the Sheriff’s office. Off the soap box again.

Now I’m standing out by the tracks doing that quintessential thing that everyone does----look down the track and wait for the train to come. It’s the classic thing to do while waiting. It’s a lovely evening, but looking at the sky you can tell that something is up. Faye has already covered the sky with a flat layer of angry grey clouds. We just realized that no one ever checked our ID getting on the train here. I checked the baggage, but all he wanted me to do was show him the tickets, and he stapled the bag checks to them. Then we just wander into the train station and wander out and get on the train with the only thing being checked is our car Roomette assignment. These could be stolen tickets, lost tickets, or we could be terrorists, but then you can’t drive a train into a building.

Getting on the train we find quite a different atmosphere this time. We now have a Steward, and he is totally on top of his game. We get to our Roomette (#2 this time) and everything is laid out perfectly. There is literature in place for us to read, a safety card, (I never saw a safety card on the last train), all the curtains are tied back, the lights are on invitingly, and 2 chilled bottles of water are in the holders awaiting us.

Unfortunately we pulled out of Orlando at 7:52 only 38 minutes after we were supposed to. (even though the whole time they were extolling how the train was “right on time”) Probably on time in some parallel train universe. The steward came by and said he had made our dinner reservations for 8:00, relaxing for a minute is out of the question so we’re off to the dining car.

Rolling north comfortably seated in the dining car watching the scenery go by---all is well with the world. Until---the Dining Nazi shows up. This guy acted like a headwaiter, but was actually our waiter. Maybe he was upset I didn’t tip him to seat us. We overlooked the bill of fare and decided on the salad, steak, baked potato, and steamed vegetables. (our cell mates across the hall recommended same) I asked for a Bloody Mary, and the Nazi said in a conspiratorial tone “you know that’s extra?”. I agreed to the nominal charge, and he silently brought a pretty good drink. Soon after our dinners were brought by what appeared to be a serving person. Turns out he had to pretty much be the waiter as well, cause you couldn’t get the Nazi’s attention short of tripping, and then I’m not sure. The food was very good, and there was plenty of it . The baked potato was served at about ten thousand degrees, and for some unknown reason Vickie got low fat sour cream and I got regular. I figured they must have looked at me and said well he’s pretty chunky, we better give him the full fat stuff. It was a good thing we had everything we needed, cause the Nazi never spoke to us again until Vickie caught him off guard and asked if desert was included in our complimentary dinner. ($21.00 if we had been paying) Then he was all gushy gushy about the three desert selections cheesecake, chocolate cake, or ice cream, and did we want strawberry topping. What a totally weird dude and how he got to be a waiter I’ll never know. Probably will retire soon with a huge railroad pension, courtesy of our tax dollars at work.

We came back from dinner and lounged in our Roomette for a while. I forgot to mention before we left for dinner, our Steward asked us at 7:55 pm if we wanted our Roomette made up for sleeping. Vickie told him no it was to early, so he told us then the steward from the other car would have to do it cause he had to go to sleep. He had to sleep a while before he came back on duty at 02:00 am. He said that was how they worked. Amazing, on the southbound train we never knew there was another steward or stewardess. (or safety card) And speaking of safety cards—it’s one sort of like on the airplanes showing the exits and stuff. Only difference is it tells you you need to be sure to know the location of the safety boxes. We luckily have a safety box just outside our Roomette just across the hall. It contains those things very important in a train travel. A. a fire extinguisher, B. some of those cool Britelume sticks you can mash and they make light, C. a giant pry bar, and D. a sledgehammer. Can you imagine getting on a plane and having this cool assortment of stuff behind this little window as you come in? Then the flight attendant says you have to know the location of the safety box so you can get the sledgehammer to beat your way out of the plane after we hurtle into the ground at 550 mph.

With a good dinner filling us we had our room made up and settled down for the night. We left a 6:50 wake up call since breakfast starts at 06:30 and we want to eat before we get off the train. Noted at this point the electrical system on this car worked quite nicely as opposed to the car coming south. There are however, several electrical devices that don’t appear to work or don’t do anything, including what appears to be a sound system. Through careful research I have determined that the only way to lay in this rapidly moving bunk with a full stomach sloshing around is on your back and with that I drifted off to a full nights sleep.

It’s 06:50 and our wake up call. We headed off to the dining car for breakfast and were greeted by the same Dining Nazi as last night. We were informed that 2.5 out of the 5 possible entrees were not available this morning by my math that’s 50% of the menu that wasn’t available. I opted for the reliable “Railroad French Toast” and Vickie since she couldn’t get an omelet, opted for eggs, bacon, toast, and potatoes. When the breakfast came, they brought her eggs, bacon, toast, and grits. She hates grits, and so when she questioned it they told her they were having “kitchen problems” so no potatoes were available. Needless to say she was not a happy camper. But this was nothing compared to when she got back to the Roomette. I failed to mention last night when we went to sleep, Vickie wondered where the pillowcases were. We convinced ourselves these were just disposable pillows like the airlines, and went off to sleep. When we got back from breakfast and our Roomette was all made back up for daytime, the missing pillowcases had miraculously appeared. Vickie was quite upset now knowing she had slept on a common pillow with no pillowcase. I helped out by telling her yea that was probably the same pillow I propped under my hip on the trip down. J

As we rode further, and could just sit and observe for a while, it came to me: very often the tree line is directly alongside the rail lines in the northeast. So all you can see is trees rushing by. It’s actually kind of nauseating if you look at it for a while. Oh, and also this morning Vickie was vindicated. She had quite a discussion with the alternate steward last night about when the train would arrive and how early we had to get up for breakfast. He was wrong by about 50 minutes, but he kept showing her this piece of paper and insisting we’d arrive at 8:10. It turned out to be more like 09:00, and when we asked our normal steward, he chuckled and said there is no way we could get there by 8:10. Vickie was already steaming and this just got her going more. Don’t think we’ll be riding the Amtrak any time soon. (While editing, my editor once again insisted she was right and h e was wrong…he was a moron. The ticket explicitly stated arrival in Raleigh at 8:54 am)

So as far as Amtrak goes let’s see how the score adds up. They tried to be sort of on time. The electrical system in our first car was totally screwed up. Our first breakfast was great, but there were waves in the liquid drinks. The cars southbound were generally dirty inside and out. The station in Raleigh was pretty nice along with the people. The Roomette was pretty small for everything but sleeping and pretty weird with the indoor outhouse. The Orlando Station was a dump---I’ve been in nicer bus stations. The northbound train was a little cleaner, but they forgot the pillowcases. The dinner was great but the waiter was a Nazi. Breakfast the second time was 50% out of commission.

The way I summed it all up when I wrote to Amtrak: You have a lot of good people trying to do a good job under fairly adverse conditions. How about investing some money in the equipment, roadbed, and stations. Some of your folks need to go to Europe or Asia to see how they operate their rail lines. What you should be offering is a competitively priced alternative to unpleasant air travel. What you are offering is an over priced National Disgrace. (based on my travel in the east coast corridor) It’s obvious Amtrak is being run by politicians rather than businessmen.

I later read in the paper Amtrak did not know what it was going to do. Ridership was up 40% out of Chicago since the gas prices went up, and they didn’t have enough equipment to handle it. I guess we screwed up and trusted the government to take care of Amtrak when we really should have taken it away from them and given it back to the Railroad monopolies that (surprise surprise they’re monopolies) are making record profits. But we did get safely to Florida and back, and had a fun time doing it. I’d say put Amtrak on you list when you are not in a hurry and want an adventure. Cheers to my loyal readers.

More later,

Wes

Vero Beach #2

Well here after a couple weeks of being real busy, and a severe case of writers block are the thing I wanted to write about to finish our trip to Vero Beach. We had a great time and met some wonderful people along the way. So here we go:

Vero Beach, a few days in Florida:

A couple weeks ago I related to you our most interesting train ride to Orlando to visit our friends in Vero Beach FL. As I left off we were out for a night of dining and dancing at this great little pub built right out over the water. We had a great time and the band of the evening was heavily influenced by its lead singer who did a pretty fair Elvis. Andrea and Neil still had to work for the rest of the week, so Vickie and I busied ourselves with planning dinner for them (Thursday night) and preparing stuff for a cocktail party (Friday night). We tried both afternoons to go to the beach but with typical Florida regularity, the mornings were beautiful, but it turned to thundershowers in the afternoon. We spent some time driving around and familiarized ourselves with at least part of Vero Beach. During one of the heavy afternoon rains, I watched the lawn maintenance guy mowing the grass. It wasn’t raining when he started, but when he was half through it started pouring. I heard him stop, and assumed he’d wait out the storm. Soon after that he returned to mowing. Seems he had had to retreat to his truck to get this real floppy looking hat so that the rain ran in his lap instead of hitting him in the head. He had one of those big powerful zero turn mowers and just kept mowing away. The water flying out the side of the mower looked like a fire hose. He probably couldn’t have done this where I live, the grass would have all plugged up under the mower. But in Florida, the grass of choice seems to be this very coarse wide bladed stuff that is almost uncomfortable to walk on in your bare feet. It is beautiful green, and is left quite long when cut. An interesting aside, when it was sunny and bright, I enjoyed sitting on the back-screened porch watching the legion of little lizards scurrying amongst the palm trees and landscaping.

On Friday night, Neil and Andrea invited some of their friends over for a cocktail and hors d'oeuvres party. We had brought along our Wii (pardon the pun) and introduced them all to the fun of indoor sports. A great time was had by all and we got to know a bunch of great people. Full time Florida residents are quite a melting pot of folks from everywhere else, especially the north.

Saturday we were invited up the street to hang out at a neighbor’s pool and have dinner. I really like the pools that are attached to the back of many Florida homes inside what they call Lanais but what I would call a screened in patio. We were graciously entertained by a cool lady named Alice with a Long Island accent. She served us very authentic pasta with a great sauce with chunks of several types of meat and sausage.

This brings me to an interesting subject. The whole time I was in Florida, I was interested in investigating the real estate market. Florida was one of the epicenters of the recent meltdown of the mortgage/sales/real estate market, along with LA, Arizona, Northern Virginia, Las Vegas etc. etc. I will immodestly tell anyone, that I predicted and watched the evolution of the whole debacle over the course of many years. Because of my long-term interest, I was particularly interested to talk to folks that were right in the middle of the whole thing.

As I watched the situation evolve, I kept asking myself---where is all this money coming from? As folks kept paying higher and higher record prices for homes, I was very concerned about the whole situation. It just seemed to me that the prices far outstripped the real intrinsic value of the homes being sold. And indeed, greed and the pursuit of a quick $$ drove a lot of it. People were taking loans they never intended on paying back just to “flip” homes and make a quick 40 or 50 thousand $$. However real folks with the ability to repay their loans got caught in the same trap as the flippers and folks with “Liar Loans” (I.E. they had no where near the income to qualify for the loans they were getting, but no one was asking any questions) What happened to the real folks was all the unscrupulous activity artificially inflated the prices (note I said prices not value) of the homes. Then in order to get financing at these over inflated prices, unscrupulous realtors conspired with unscrupulous appraisers to make it look like the houses were actually worth what the asking prices showed. Bottom line was a whole bunch of folks (not just a few here and there) ended up with houses they paid way over-inflated prices for. These are not deadbeat or dishonest folks, these might be good hard working folks who invested a great big hunk of equity from a house sold up North, and who want to pay their bills. But the bottom line is many of these hard working honest people now find themselves owing more than their home is worth on the now readjusted (and still readjusting) real estate market. They only have a few choices: 1. is to tough it out, pay the loan, and wait for the housing market to regain its strength, but this might be a 10-15 year proposition. 2. is to walk away from their loan and allow the bank to foreclose on the house. This is a painful and credit destroying p rocess. 3. is to negotiate with the bank to allow what is called a short sale where the bank forgives a portion of the debt to allow the house to be sold. This has the peril of the government deciding the forgiven portion of the loan is income and putting you in trouble with the IRS. This has created a lot of heartache for a lot of folks, and ripped the heart out of both the real estate and financial markets. What a mess. You can drive past mile after mile of recently built gated communities just in this one small Florida town knowing that a large percentage of the homeowners owe $$$$$ more than their homes are worth.

Strange upside to all of the above, if you have money and good credit (read excellent credit) there are now incredible buys in Florida (and I am sure other states) of very desirable real estate. I foresee mega rich speculators buying up reasonably priced properties to rent or just hold until the market regains some strength. Enough soapbox---sometimes I just have to do it.

On Sunday, we took Neil and Andrea’s boat out for a sort of shakedown cruise since he had moved it back to Florida from Pittsburgh. They have a great boat, and Neil is in the process of getting it back into tiptop shape. It is a 43-45’ Sea Ray Sedan Bridge, with 2 staterooms, 2 heads, air-conditioning, twin Cummins turbocharged diesels, full off shore instrumentation, and plenty of range. He keeps it in a snug harbor in a nice neighborhood near Ft. Pierce. From there it is a quick run out to the Intercostal Waterway, and the Atlantic. On Sunday, we picked up Alice, and the 5 of us headed out. We made a quick run out into the Atlantic, (just to say we did it) and came back and anchored at a popular hang out in Ft. Pierce Inlet. Needless to say, boating in Florida has taken on a new slant due to the fuel prices. (a boat of this type holds over 300 gallons of diesel, so you do the math) But what has evolved is a great flotilla where everyone anchors, parties, suns, and swims. Having a big boat to do this on is really great, cause there are lots of places to hang out, and a big swim platform on the back. We had a beautiful day with a great sea breeze, and great swimming temps. Even as Faye at this point was drowning The Keys.

After a great day of boating, we headed in, and spent a goodly amount of time making everything shipshape for the possibility of Faye’s appearance Monday night. We got back home, showered, and hit the Outback for dinner. After dinner we attempted to play 9 holes of Tiger Woods Wii golf but crashed after 7 holes, worn out from the recreation and boat work, anticipating work for them tomorrow and our return trip home.

More later.

Wes