Recently I listened to Hoda Kotb’s 2017 interview with Candace Bergan in which she claimed repeatedly; “I don’t care!” Although the quote is five years old, I paused to think hard about why I still do. Evidently her appearance on NBC was to promote the romantic movie, Home Again, starring Reese Witherspoon.
It was entertaining.
However, let me be clear, Candace was not talking about politics, environmental issues, poverty or medical insurance. Candace was talking about that stage in a woman’s life when she stops censuring what she says to family and friends, applying mascara and changing clothes numerous times before she goes out the door.
In her memoir, A Fine Romance, she happily acknowledged and embraced her weight gain and in a magazine article said, “Let me just come right out and say it: I am fat.”
She sounded as though this acceptance of self happens automatically, like your wisdom teeth coming in between the ages of 18 and 21.
Well, I have news for Murphy Brown, some women never get wisdom teeth and many, have to have them pulled.
. . . just saying
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Tanya Templeton’s slender fingers grip the dirty door handle to the Last Chance Corral. She yanks the door open. It slams behind her.
Heads turn to watch her long blonde hair sway as she wiggles across the room and sits at the bar. Her piercing blue eyes study other patrons whose elbows rest on the hard surface.
“The usual?” Kurt, the bartender, asks grabbing a glass.
“Yea, a double. Who’s the dude?”
“You mean, the guy hound dogging you?”
Tanya smiles, shoots a look the man’s way, and runs her tongue around her lips like she’s ready to lick a lollipop.
“Don’t get carried away, it’s early you know,” says Kurt.
“Not early enough?” Tanya laments. “What’s vibrating? Oh, my cell. . .” She tosses her streaked hair, and checks the phone screen.
“It’s not love calling,” she says, then squeezes the phone back into her pant pocket.
When she slides the bar stool in closer, the metal scrapes the floor with an alarming sound.
“What’s his name wants to buy you drinks.” The bartender points his chin in the right direction. “Or are you running a tap?”
“Does he have a name?”
Instead of listen to Kurt’s reply, she slaps a ten-dollar bill on the bar like a husband slamming a pink slip down on the kitchen table, and sashays across the room, thumbs inside her belt loops.
“I’m Tanya, you must be . . .?”
“Damn woman, looking at you I can’t remember much, especially my name.”
“Well, you don’t mind being called Dean, do you? I once had a boyfriend named Dean, lived in the panhandle. . . Apalachicola. . . ever been there? You gotta love oysters to live there.”
She studies the creases in his worn jeans.
“Dean suits me fine. I’ve passed through Apalachicola many times hauling lumber. These days’ runs keep me traveling the interstate.” He smiles with his eyes. “I’ve been dreaming about oysters.”
Tanya toys with his body using her mind and quips, “Glad you have a sense of humor. You’ll need one.”
After the small talk and learning nothing about themselves or each other, they saunter out together looking for the short cut to love.
The End
. . . just saying
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Summer in Florida is like winter in the north, Floridians stay indoors. It’s a time to get organized and tidy up. So, I went through my writing stuff, and discovered some poetry. This one was inspired by social media in November of 2012.
Sharing
By Claudiajustsaying
We publicly post our words
Text, twitter and talk.
Likes keep us playing the game
Comments share a thought.
Then, tease each other about being friends
“Tell me a secret and I’ll tell you mine.”
Social media is a push pull effect . . .
But, what is a friend?
. . . just saying
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This morning’s headline, “10,000-home Avalon Park project moving ahead” in our local newspaper turned my stomach.
The article, written by Clayton Park, informed us that, Beat Kahil, the developer, is predicting confidently, he’ll break ground for this massive project in Daytona Beach some time in 2023.
Predicting confidently? I can only imagine what that implies.
And ten thousand more homes is not what our area needs. We are over developed now.
Who is Beat Kahil? The name sounds fictitious to me.
A Googled search revealed the picture above and the information below.
Today’s article was nothing but favorable. No mention of the environmental impact, stripping the trees, changed zoning, or the strain on our hospitals and schools. The tone of the article hailed this developer’s achievement and success. Evidently he turned Orlando into a parking lot, not too long ago.
The article does discuss: building permits issued in 2021 by the City of Daytona, traffic concerns detailed by Maryam Ghyabi, the Ormond Beach engineering and transportation planning consultant chairing the LPGA Coalition and the fact that water and sewer services for Avalon Park Daytona Beach will be provided by the City of Ormond Beach.
All that happen while we were sleeping.
Nevertheless, Beat Kahil is confidently predicting his vision to create an entire town, will begin in 2023.
I’m confidently predicting it will be our worst nightmare.
. . . just saying
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(Orlando, FL (September 30, 2020) – Kahli Holding AG, the Swiss holding company founded by Beat Kahli, who is also President and CEO of Avalon Park Group, has acquired a 20% stake in VOXX International Corporation (Nasdaq: VOXX) over the past 6 months, making the group the largest shareholder. VOXX is a global leader in consumer electronics, high definition audio, automotive security, and mobile entertainment systems.
Beat Kahli explains that it has always been his philosophy to diversify the company’s holdings and assets, while the primary line of business for Avalon Park Group is real estate development. “Over the past several months I have seen the creativity VOXX has had in navigating the current economic climate and am optimistic for the future of the company,” said Kahli. “As an Entrepreneur, I am always looking to add diversity to our portfolio with companies that show ingenuity and promise.”
Avalon Park Group has a current development pipeline of over $3 billion. The addition of the VOXX stake brings additional diversity to the industries already under the company’s umbrella.
About VOXX International Corporation Established in 1960, VOXX has since grown into a worldwide leader in Automotive Electronics and Consumer Electronics, with emerging Biometrics technology to capitalize on the increased need for advanced security. Over the past several decades, VOXX has built market-leading positions in in-vehicle entertainment, automotive security, a number of premium audio market segments, and consumer accessories with a portfolio of over 30 trusted brands such as Audiovox, ASA Electronics, Vehicle Safety Holdings, Eyelock, and Klipsch, the #1 premium loudspeaker brand in the audio market. VOXX is a global company, with an extensive distribution network that includes power retailers, mass merchandisers, 12-volt specialists, and many of the world’s leading automotive manufacturers.
About Avalon Park Group
Avalon Park Group is a uniquely diversified family of companies engaged in businesses ranging from master-planned community development to home building, mining, and property management, in Florida, Texas, Switzerland Singapore and Australia. With more than $1 billion in total assets, Avalon Park Group combines its exceptional reputation, sound business experience, and significant financial resources to invest in extraordinary opportunities. At Avalon Park Group, our mission is to change the way the world lives, learns, works, and plays through creating healthy sustainable communities and every aspect thereof.
Beat Kähli founded Avalon Park Group Management, Inc.
He is Chief Executive Officer of Avalon Park Group Management, Inc.
and President for SITEX Properties USA, Inc.
He is also on the board of VOXX International Corp.
Today was quiet and yet I’m exhausted. Our grand kids came for Sunday dinner. We have enjoyed the weekly ritual since they moved here in January. Janine prepared a new pasta dish, Rigatoni with zucchini sauce. I didn’t have to do everything just some things and still I’m dog tired and ready for bed, but thankful; I have their support and friends.
People I can phone in the middle of the night and say, “I have a flat tire. Can you pick me up?”
They’d answer, “Where are you?” Then say, “I’ll be there in . . .”
Many of these people I’ve known for sixty years. Others for twenty-five or thirty. Some for only a few.
I’m lucky!
. . . just saying
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At Denver Airport in the morning, there was no transport person!
There was however, one wheel chair inside the door, which I grabbed away from an elderly woman; took outside, put Bob in and brought him indoors; where I could see him while checking in.
Thank God for Betsy and Bill. They waited curbside looking after Bob and our luggage while I’d been inside. We had a tearful goodbye.
Now the attendant assigned to us appeared. However, he had another person in tow. Before I could blink, he took off for security pushing two wheel chairs. I scurried behind.
I had instructed my husband, to lie about his age going through security and say he is 75 years old, this way he wouldn’t have to take off his shoes or stand up.
Praise the Lord, we didn’t wait in line. The second transport, a woman, was late for her flight and checked her Apple watch repeatedly, as I piled her carry on belongings into bins.
Then Homeland Security was about to wand Bob, and I panicked.
“Don’t do that!” I yelled as I raced to Bob’s side. “His arm is broken!” .
“STEP BACK LADY,” he bellowed with his hand on his gun.
Bob remembered to lie. But said he was 74, not 75 yrs old. He is 73. Men!
The ordeal had me shaken, but not for long because. . . now. . . “transport guy” was racing toward a waiting train. I realized he was getting on and followed, running, but I couldn’t keep up. So, before the doors closed, jumped in any car. . . and started to spill my guts to a stranger I was now face to face with.
I couldn’t even remember the terminal our flight would leave from, although the tickets were in my hand. I was dizzy, although it may have been my vertigo.
When I caught my breath, I saw “transport guy” in the next car. He waved.
I’ll skip the flight and transport ordeal on the arrival side and simply say we were picked up by our daughter, Janine and grandson, Dominic.
We drove directly to the emergency room of our local hospital and waited six hours before Bob had an emergency room bed. Sometime later, he was given morphine for pain. The next day, day nine, Bob was admitted for surgery. The surgery, delayed due to an allergic reaction, was on day twelve, June 26th, our 51st Wedding Anniversary.
Every step along the way had sidesteps and challenges. He now has a nine-inch rod in his arm and three weeks post operation is doing well.
As Betsy, Bill, Bob and I lamented, this was one hell of a Yellowstone trip.
. . . just saying
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I would love to tell you we returned to the $400+ dollar night Inn and got a good night’s rest. . . but, the day wasn’t over yet.
Bill and I were helping Bob out of the car, when his face went, “lights out.” I grabbed his chin and looked directly into his eyes. “Talk to me! What’s happening?” Then, he fell to his knees. I think we all screamed.
Fortunately, a nurse and her strong husband had just left their cabin and knew how to support Bob without injuring his fractured shoulder more and moved him to a chair in our cabin. Betsy called 911.
Hotel staff arrived in a flash and determined acute pain caused his near collapse. We got him into bed, double dosed the pain medication, and gave him something for nausea.
My beginning to catch a breath was interrupted by a knock on the door. It was another staff member with paperwork to sign. A kid, probably my grandson’s age.
Understandably the hotel needed to document the incidents. I reassured him it was a simple trip and fall. We weren’t going to solicit a lawyer.
Like Danny on Blue Blood’s, he handed me paper and pen. “In your own words. If you wouldn’t mind.” He expressed his appreciation once the forms where completed and asked . . . emphatically, “Is there anything I can do for you?”
Well there was. My concern was getting Bob, weak and under the influence, to the bathroom. How many times does an 73 man void during the night? I’d lost count.
“Do you have a urinal?”
“No,” he said, embarrassed.
On the counter behind him was my wide mouth water bottle. I glanced its way, his eyes followed mine.
“Problem solved,” I said.
Shortly after, Betsy brought me dinner. A pork sandwich with homemade cold slaw she’d packed. Remember if the park opened food might be hard to find. Oh yes and a large bottle of wine.
It was around 10PM and the sun had finally set.
. . . just saying
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The next day, after breakfast, we checked out and wandered around Jackson, mostly shopping and people watching. After lunch we headed north into the Grand Tetons National Park. The temperature dropped as the elevation climbed to 10,000 ft and once inside the park the temperature was about 40 degrees, although the sun had came out.
We checked in at 4:15PM. Why do I remember the precise time? Because like most accidents the events are played over in slow motion. We drove to our close by cabin.
I carried my luggage inside the cabin then heard a scream. We ran outside to find my husband lying on the ground.
The above pictures tell the story. Bob tripped holding his ipad, fell, and fractured his right shoulder. Betsy call 911. Hotel staff came immediately in a golf cart, knew not to move him, and called for an ambulance. It was raining and temperatures continued to drop. We grabbed blankets. The man layered their winter jackets underneath a garbage bag hoping to prevent shock, The ambulance, traveling from outside the park arrived one hour later. The ride back was the same one hour over bumpy roads. Doctors at St. John’s hospital determined Bob probably need surgery but didn’t argue. A man with his medical history needed to be home to Florida. He was discharged, arm in a sling with pain medication.
The process took hours.
Betsy and Bill had followed the ambulance and patiently sat in the ER waiting room wondering what to do.
“Well girlfriend,” I said, calling on my cell phone. “You’ll have to go shopping. Bob has nothing to wear. That really nice blue checked shirt was cut off.”
. . . just saying
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Friday morning, cool temperatures in Fort Collins were a welcome relief from the heat and humidity of Florida. We walked their dog, sipped coffee and read the newspaper while our friends were at the hospital. Things went well.
Because Yellowstone was closed due to heavy rains and flooding, Betsy and I spent several hours cancelling and re-booking, hotel , dinner reservation and excursions a year in the making, and found accommodations in Jackson Hole and the Grand Tetons. The original plan was to drive to Jackson Hole, Wyoming, an eight hour trip. Spend one night. Then Grand Teton Hotel (one hour away) for one night, and three nights inside Yellowstone.
We worked side by side with two computer and two cell phones, hoping Yellowstone would open on Wednesday.
It was exhausting and . . . time to go shopping.
Money Magazine, named Fort Collins the “Best Place to Live” in the western United States among small cities in 2006. Old Town is its main core where the city’s history began. The Fort Collins Museum, which was created as the Pioneer Museum in 1941, retains the first settler’s hut and two other historic structures in its courtyard. The Avery House and a section of the old city center are on the National Register of Historic Places.
It is a beautiful college town with flowers everywhere.
Families sauntered about, their children splashed in street ponds and the dogs were well behaved.
. . . just saying
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Yellowstone was closed! My friend had phoned the day before to explain there were additional sidesteps. Her husband needed an unanticipated medical procedure the day after our arrival and her air conditioning was on the fritz. Always the optimist, I said, “We haven’t seen you in ages and there is lots to do in Colorado.”
Our flight was on time and arrived as scheduled. We visited the Gaylord Hotel, a spectacular lodge rising-up in the flat plains close to Denver International Airport and had lunch. It’s about an hour drive to Fort Collins and Bill insisted we take the scenic route father than Route 25 to avoid construction, traffic delays and vehicle accidents. And we did see some sights; housing construction competing with fracking fields. However, in the north the brown flat lands turn green with flowers and lakes.
The men retired early and the women watch “Being the Riccardo’s” staring Nicole Kidman. I loved everything about the movie.
The air conditioning repair person was scheduled for the next day and we slept comfortably with a ceiling fan and the windows open.
claudiajustsaying 