By Bill Yanger
Another in this continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
G-G-G-Good m-m-m-morning. G-g-g-god I h-h-h-hate this frikkin’ cold weather.
Suck it up, it’s warm in here. And if you’d wear long pants that’d help.
Don’t own long pants. And the walk down the pier sent that north breeze up my shorts to places better left unmentioned. Kinda fun actually…
Ahhh geeeez, I could do without the meteorological anatomy confessional. Sit. Here’s your coffee.
Thanks.
Don’t imagine you’re fishing today.
That’d be a no. Kidding me? Any yellow-mouthed lunker worth chasing is hunkered down with his she-trout under a blanket of turtle grass waitin’ out this chill. Boys ain’t thinking about eating today.
So what’ll you do with yourself?
Treadmill.
What?
Showing posts with label Conversations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Conversations. Show all posts
Friday, January 14, 2011
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Pancakes and Scallywags
By Bill Yanger
They’re back. Here's another in this continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey! Grab a seat.
What the heck is that?
What?
That. On your plate.
THAT is a stack of pancakes.
I know it’s a stack of pancakes genius. What is that stack of pancakes doing on your plate.
Uh…soaking up all this butter and gooey maple syrup and waiting for me to eat ‘em?
Exactly!
Yes, exactly. Am I missing something?
You promised.You coulda had a frikkin’ heart attack, man! You know how bad it is for you and you said you’d never give in, that if they brought it to the table you’d just push it away. You said…
I know what I said. That was then. And I meant it, I really did. But, dude, get real…things change. Just being realistic under the circumstances. I'm hungry...and I like pancakes…a lot.
Things change? That’s your answer? Here’s realistic for you: your blood pressure has to duck to get in the door, man. Cholesterol, too. You have people depending on you. You can’t eat that stuff. What’s next? You gonna take a cigarette from the next guy offers you one, too? You promised. We believed you.
Wow, you like me…you really like me…
They’re back. Here's another in this continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey! Grab a seat.
What the heck is that?
What?
That. On your plate.
THAT is a stack of pancakes.
I know it’s a stack of pancakes genius. What is that stack of pancakes doing on your plate.
Uh…soaking up all this butter and gooey maple syrup and waiting for me to eat ‘em?
Exactly!
Yes, exactly. Am I missing something?
You promised.You coulda had a frikkin’ heart attack, man! You know how bad it is for you and you said you’d never give in, that if they brought it to the table you’d just push it away. You said…
I know what I said. That was then. And I meant it, I really did. But, dude, get real…things change. Just being realistic under the circumstances. I'm hungry...and I like pancakes…a lot.
Things change? That’s your answer? Here’s realistic for you: your blood pressure has to duck to get in the door, man. Cholesterol, too. You have people depending on you. You can’t eat that stuff. What’s next? You gonna take a cigarette from the next guy offers you one, too? You promised. We believed you.
Wow, you like me…you really like me…
Thursday, December 2, 2010
Once Bitten, Twice Shy
By Bill Yanger
They’re back. Here's another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey! Nice…uh…coat.
Like it?
Yeah, some climber just called from Mt. Everest, he wants it back.
What can I say, it got cold, like overnight, and the thing’s toasty.
Dude, you’re wearing khaki shorts and flip flops.
It’s not that cold, come on.
Right. So anyway, why the bandage on your hand?
Nothin.
Nothing? Sure looks like something to me, all wrapped up professional like. Cut yourself carving the Thanksgiving turkey?
Nope.
Open a knuckle changing spark plugs in that thing you call a boat?
Nah, she’s runnin’ sweet as ever.
What then?
Ain’t a big deal. Just learned a tough lesson, that’s all.
Looks like a painful lesson. It still hurt?
A little sore yeah but I’ll get over it. Just won’t do that again. Ever.
What again?
Kind of a long story.
You got a steaming cup a coffee and here come my scrambled eggs as we speak. Plenty of time. Talk to me.
You’re sure a nosy S-O-B.
Damn right. And you’re stubborn. Just tell me the story before I stick this fork in that wound of yours.
They’re back. Here's another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey! Nice…uh…coat.
Like it?
Yeah, some climber just called from Mt. Everest, he wants it back.
What can I say, it got cold, like overnight, and the thing’s toasty.
Dude, you’re wearing khaki shorts and flip flops.
It’s not that cold, come on.
Right. So anyway, why the bandage on your hand?
Nothin.
Nothing? Sure looks like something to me, all wrapped up professional like. Cut yourself carving the Thanksgiving turkey?
Nope.
Open a knuckle changing spark plugs in that thing you call a boat?
Nah, she’s runnin’ sweet as ever.
What then?
Ain’t a big deal. Just learned a tough lesson, that’s all.
Looks like a painful lesson. It still hurt?
A little sore yeah but I’ll get over it. Just won’t do that again. Ever.
What again?
Kind of a long story.
You got a steaming cup a coffee and here come my scrambled eggs as we speak. Plenty of time. Talk to me.
You’re sure a nosy S-O-B.
Damn right. And you’re stubborn. Just tell me the story before I stick this fork in that wound of yours.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Can You Hear That?
By Bill Yanger
They’re back. Here's another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey, mornin’. Mmmmm, can you feel that?
Feel what?
That…you know, that feeling.
Can I feel a feeling? Are you on that blood thinner again?
No, man. Come on, close your eyes.
Is this a joke?
Not a joke. Just close ‘em…good. Now what do you feel?
Stupid.
Get over it. No one’s looking except that waitress but anyway she thinks you’re twisted.
She thinks I’m sexy.
They’re back. Here's another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey, mornin’. Mmmmm, can you feel that?
Feel what?
That…you know, that feeling.
Can I feel a feeling? Are you on that blood thinner again?
No, man. Come on, close your eyes.
Is this a joke?
Not a joke. Just close ‘em…good. Now what do you feel?
Stupid.
Get over it. No one’s looking except that waitress but anyway she thinks you’re twisted.
She thinks I’m sexy.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Coincidence, Minor Leagues and Pickle Ball
By Bill Yanger
They’ve been gone for a while but here's another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Well well. Looky here. I’m seein’ a ghost.
Yeah yeah, go ahead, get all that “where you been hiding”crap over with.
And so?
And so what?
And so, where you been hiding?
Haven’t been hiding. Just been attending to things.
What things? With who?
Who died and made you Oprah Winfrey?
Just asking.Geez.
I’ve been doing stuff more important than shootin’ the bull about a whole lotta nothin’ with old farts like you every morning, that’s what.
Well if you’re trying to hurt my feelings, it’s working.
Boo hoo. Get over it.
They’ve been gone for a while but here's another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Well well. Looky here. I’m seein’ a ghost.
Yeah yeah, go ahead, get all that “where you been hiding”crap over with.
And so?
And so what?
And so, where you been hiding?
Haven’t been hiding. Just been attending to things.
What things? With who?
Who died and made you Oprah Winfrey?
Just asking.Geez.
I’ve been doing stuff more important than shootin’ the bull about a whole lotta nothin’ with old farts like you every morning, that’s what.
Well if you’re trying to hurt my feelings, it’s working.
Boo hoo. Get over it.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Watering Sandspurs
By Bill Yanger
It’s been a while but this is another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey stranger! Where the heck you been?
Me? I’ve been right here where I’ve always been, sipping coffee. Where you been?
Fishin’.
Ahhh yes, tarpon season. Right.
Yep, and it has been glorious. Look at these callouses…
You have that summer flip flop tan, like two white arrows pointing those gnarly toes in the right direction. All appears copacetic with your world, my brother.
Can’t really complain, though I’m getting a lot of heat at home. She pretends like she doesn’t recognize me cuz I’ve been out in the pass so much lately.
You’d think she’d consider that a blessing.
You’re just as funny as ever. Anyway, no fishing til later today. Gotta head into town for something.
Huh? You? Across the…I can’t even say it…the b-b-bridge?
It’s been a while but this is another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey stranger! Where the heck you been?
Me? I’ve been right here where I’ve always been, sipping coffee. Where you been?
Fishin’.
Ahhh yes, tarpon season. Right.
Yep, and it has been glorious. Look at these callouses…
You have that summer flip flop tan, like two white arrows pointing those gnarly toes in the right direction. All appears copacetic with your world, my brother.
Can’t really complain, though I’m getting a lot of heat at home. She pretends like she doesn’t recognize me cuz I’ve been out in the pass so much lately.
You’d think she’d consider that a blessing.
You’re just as funny as ever. Anyway, no fishing til later today. Gotta head into town for something.
Huh? You? Across the…I can’t even say it…the b-b-bridge?
Friday, May 14, 2010
Will You Kindly Pass The Mullet Roe, My Good Man?
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
And a fine morning it ‘tis my good man!
What’s with the goofy accent?
Accent? Whatev-ah do you mean sir?
That stuff…that stupid way you’re talking to me.
Oh, just practicing my highbrow lingo.
I have a feeling something’s coming…okay…I’ll bite. What the hell are you talking about?
You know, just polishing my snobby sneer while gazing down my nose at all the troubling little people. Need to practice tut-tutting and tsk-tsking anyone who doesn’t happen to live here in this sacred little enclave of mine…and yours of course.
Still drawing a blank.
C’mon, you know. We live the City of Ahh-nah Mar-eye-ah, mah Lord! We are the chosen, the blessed. We are the… Elite!
The elite. Right. The elite don’t wear the same khaki shorts six days in a row, dude.
Nine actually, but I haven’t been fishing in ‘em yet either.
So tell me, Baron of Bean Point, why are we…uh…you, an elitist now?
Easy. Because that Beach Bistro restaurant guy says so, that’s why.
The Canadian in Holmes Beach with the curly gray hair? The guy with the $15 hamburger and that Foy Grass?
It’s F-o-i-e G-r-a-s…as in Fwah Grah. And yeah, that’s him.
It’s all goose liver to me pal. When did he say that?
Letter to the editor this week, two actually, one in each paper.
But why did he say it?
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
And a fine morning it ‘tis my good man!
What’s with the goofy accent?
Accent? Whatev-ah do you mean sir?
That stuff…that stupid way you’re talking to me.
Oh, just practicing my highbrow lingo.
I have a feeling something’s coming…okay…I’ll bite. What the hell are you talking about?
You know, just polishing my snobby sneer while gazing down my nose at all the troubling little people. Need to practice tut-tutting and tsk-tsking anyone who doesn’t happen to live here in this sacred little enclave of mine…and yours of course.
Still drawing a blank.
C’mon, you know. We live the City of Ahh-nah Mar-eye-ah, mah Lord! We are the chosen, the blessed. We are the… Elite!
The elite. Right. The elite don’t wear the same khaki shorts six days in a row, dude.
Nine actually, but I haven’t been fishing in ‘em yet either.
So tell me, Baron of Bean Point, why are we…uh…you, an elitist now?
Easy. Because that Beach Bistro restaurant guy says so, that’s why.
The Canadian in Holmes Beach with the curly gray hair? The guy with the $15 hamburger and that Foy Grass?
It’s F-o-i-e G-r-a-s…as in Fwah Grah. And yeah, that’s him.
It’s all goose liver to me pal. When did he say that?
Letter to the editor this week, two actually, one in each paper.
But why did he say it?
Thursday, May 6, 2010
The Thing About Irony Is It Ain’t Always Funny
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Mornin’ buddy.
Hey hand me that sports page, the Rays won again. What’re you reading?
Oh, you know, all this oily crap about those folks who keep trying to mess up what makes this little part of the world so special.
I know exactly what you mean. Everything seems rosy when slick Big Money pats us on the back and tells us how good they are at protecting our golden goose. We’ve heard it all, you know, like, “Trust us. We are different. We got specialists.”
Right, and “It’ll never happen here.” That’s a good one.
Or, I love the “We are making life better for everyone” angle. That one always nets a few napping politicians to pose with ‘em for a photo op or two.
…and a vote or two to get things done.
For sure. They cozy up to government and Very Important People, contribute to big splashy causes, get the newspapers to make ‘em look like Mother Teresa reincarnated. They buy pretty ads and websites with salty red sunsets over gin clear water. They build one here and then one there. Someone’ll complain but instead of listening, Big Money just calls ‘em bad guys and clips the lawyers off their leashes to go gnaw on some fresh meat for a while.
And then they just keep building the damn things anyway.
Exactly. All our brittle natural beauty and precious resources being bounced like rubber balls by the Big Money magicians at the Cash-It-In Circus who just give a crooked grin and say, “Trust us, it’ll be okay. We know what we’re doing.”
Then one of those rubber balls bursts and all they got to say is, “Well shoot, it was supposed to bounce.” And while the rest of us mop up the mess, they slither over to the next honey hole, tap it and suck it dry too.
Yep, I am madder ‘n hell at those damn oil companies ruining our Gulf! And just before tarpon season!
Huh? What the heck are you talking about?
The oil spill. You know, the rig explosion out in The Gulf of Mexico? Crude oil killing fish and birds and working its way across to our sacred Bean Point right over there any day now.
Ohhhhh, my lord…I thought you were talking about Pine Avenue. Pretty funny.
Hmmm, I see your point. But it ain’t funny, dude. It ain't funny at all.
Guess you’re right. See you tomorrow.
Yeah, tomorrow.
©-2010- William L. Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Mornin’ buddy.
Hey hand me that sports page, the Rays won again. What’re you reading?
Oh, you know, all this oily crap about those folks who keep trying to mess up what makes this little part of the world so special.
I know exactly what you mean. Everything seems rosy when slick Big Money pats us on the back and tells us how good they are at protecting our golden goose. We’ve heard it all, you know, like, “Trust us. We are different. We got specialists.”
Right, and “It’ll never happen here.” That’s a good one.
Or, I love the “We are making life better for everyone” angle. That one always nets a few napping politicians to pose with ‘em for a photo op or two.
…and a vote or two to get things done.
For sure. They cozy up to government and Very Important People, contribute to big splashy causes, get the newspapers to make ‘em look like Mother Teresa reincarnated. They buy pretty ads and websites with salty red sunsets over gin clear water. They build one here and then one there. Someone’ll complain but instead of listening, Big Money just calls ‘em bad guys and clips the lawyers off their leashes to go gnaw on some fresh meat for a while.
And then they just keep building the damn things anyway.
Exactly. All our brittle natural beauty and precious resources being bounced like rubber balls by the Big Money magicians at the Cash-It-In Circus who just give a crooked grin and say, “Trust us, it’ll be okay. We know what we’re doing.”
Then one of those rubber balls bursts and all they got to say is, “Well shoot, it was supposed to bounce.” And while the rest of us mop up the mess, they slither over to the next honey hole, tap it and suck it dry too.
Yep, I am madder ‘n hell at those damn oil companies ruining our Gulf! And just before tarpon season!
Huh? What the heck are you talking about?
The oil spill. You know, the rig explosion out in The Gulf of Mexico? Crude oil killing fish and birds and working its way across to our sacred Bean Point right over there any day now.
Ohhhhh, my lord…I thought you were talking about Pine Avenue. Pretty funny.
Hmmm, I see your point. But it ain’t funny, dude. It ain't funny at all.
Guess you’re right. See you tomorrow.
Yeah, tomorrow.
©-2010- William L. Yanger
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
A Man Of His Convictions
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning
Is it?
Huh?
Is it a good morning?
Well…seems so. Sun’s shining, I ain’t wearin’ that ratty sweater for the first time since Halloween and the traffic is backed up only halfway down Pine.
Yeah, I guess, but…
But what?
But, just seems…I don’t know...sure, the sun’s making me squint again and I love that but don’t it feel like there’s a cloud hanging low and dark around here?
Cloud…oh, got it. Right. You mean all that email in the sunshine shi…uh…stuff with that new commissioner and the convict guy from Sarasota?
Exactly what I mean. What the hell’s going on around here?
What’s going on? Nothin’ new really. A classic Florida clash of growth or no growth, development or no development, Disney-ized towns or real towns with real people…you know. People get real serious when it comes to makin’ money. And people get just as serious when it comes to protecting their town, especially this one.
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning
Is it?
Huh?
Is it a good morning?
Well…seems so. Sun’s shining, I ain’t wearin’ that ratty sweater for the first time since Halloween and the traffic is backed up only halfway down Pine.
Yeah, I guess, but…
But what?
But, just seems…I don’t know...sure, the sun’s making me squint again and I love that but don’t it feel like there’s a cloud hanging low and dark around here?
Cloud…oh, got it. Right. You mean all that email in the sunshine shi…uh…stuff with that new commissioner and the convict guy from Sarasota?
Exactly what I mean. What the hell’s going on around here?
What’s going on? Nothin’ new really. A classic Florida clash of growth or no growth, development or no development, Disney-ized towns or real towns with real people…you know. People get real serious when it comes to makin’ money. And people get just as serious when it comes to protecting their town, especially this one.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
Can't You Smell That Smell?
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning
Hello hello.
What’s with the collared shirt? Didn’t know you owned one.
Don’t. Borrowed it from my neighbor.
You…uh…borrowed a shirt. What’s the occasion?
Just spiffin’ up my image. First impressions and all that stuff.
Then why don’t you buy your own shirt?
Baby steps my friend, baby steps.
Uh huh. You even combed your hair...both of them. So who you tryin’ to impress?
No one in particular…just, you know, folks I see, people I meet. My neighbors and friends here in my little town.
Our little town.
Yeah yeah, our town.
So why the sudden urge to impress folks?
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning
Hello hello.
What’s with the collared shirt? Didn’t know you owned one.
Don’t. Borrowed it from my neighbor.
You…uh…borrowed a shirt. What’s the occasion?
Just spiffin’ up my image. First impressions and all that stuff.
Then why don’t you buy your own shirt?
Baby steps my friend, baby steps.
Uh huh. You even combed your hair...both of them. So who you tryin’ to impress?
No one in particular…just, you know, folks I see, people I meet. My neighbors and friends here in my little town.
Our little town.
Yeah yeah, our town.
So why the sudden urge to impress folks?
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Seeing Is Believing
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations, some short some extended, over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good Morning…
Hey.
Well well, if it isn’t Mr. Mysterious.
Huh?
Had some big secret the other day, remember? Skipped coffee then had to grab your blackened Mahi to go.
Oh, yeah. No biggie.
No biggie…right…What’s the deal?
Not sure I wanna tell you yet.
Oh, give me a break you prima donna…gonna make me beg?
Don’t beg. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.
Whatever.
Anyway, you know anyone who can tow my house?
You mean your boat?
No. My house, mi casa, the place I eat, sleep and watch Dancing With The Stars.
Tow, as in put it on a trailer and move it?
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations, some short some extended, over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good Morning…
Hey.
Well well, if it isn’t Mr. Mysterious.
Huh?
Had some big secret the other day, remember? Skipped coffee then had to grab your blackened Mahi to go.
Oh, yeah. No biggie.
No biggie…right…What’s the deal?
Not sure I wanna tell you yet.
Oh, give me a break you prima donna…gonna make me beg?
Don’t beg. I’ll tell you when I’m ready.
Whatever.
Anyway, you know anyone who can tow my house?
You mean your boat?
No. My house, mi casa, the place I eat, sleep and watch Dancing With The Stars.
Tow, as in put it on a trailer and move it?
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Do You Have Any Idea What’s In That Hot Dog?
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey buddy.
Feeling better? You were pretty blue the other day.
Oh I’m over it. Just trying to focus on things that…you know…things that make me smile.
That make you smile…okay…Like Bean Point?
Yes, actually…took your advise. Right at sunrise. That place always seems to right me when I’m listing. Even caught a couple mackerel with my favorite little feather jig. Walked home and fried one up for breakfast with some cheese grits. Sliced a fat-daddy Ruskin tomato, splashed it with a little balsamic vinegar. Squeezed a glass of tangerine juice…nothing better. Back at the helm.
Love your cheese grits. Some reason you wanted to meet later for lunch today instead of coffee?
Not really, just had some things to do this morning.
Like what?
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hey buddy.
Feeling better? You were pretty blue the other day.
Oh I’m over it. Just trying to focus on things that…you know…things that make me smile.
That make you smile…okay…Like Bean Point?
Yes, actually…took your advise. Right at sunrise. That place always seems to right me when I’m listing. Even caught a couple mackerel with my favorite little feather jig. Walked home and fried one up for breakfast with some cheese grits. Sliced a fat-daddy Ruskin tomato, splashed it with a little balsamic vinegar. Squeezed a glass of tangerine juice…nothing better. Back at the helm.
Love your cheese grits. Some reason you wanted to meet later for lunch today instead of coffee?
Not really, just had some things to do this morning.
Like what?
Friday, February 19, 2010
Bummer, Dude
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Yeah…um…hey.
What’s the deal? You look like crap. You sleep on the beach or something?
Nah. Didn’t really sleep at all. Just a little down I guess.
Down?
Yeah, I had the bright idea of going to the City Commission meeting last night.
So?
So, it was a kind of bummer.
Well, I can’t say you have great taste in your choice of entertainment. Commission meetings ain’t exactly American Idol or even Germany v. Norway in Olympic curling. Have you seen those guys sweep? So cool...they float down the ice with these little brooms…
…Hey! This is important man.
Whoa. Sorry. Mr. Touchy today. Okay, I’m all ears. Take three deep breathes and talk to me.
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Yeah…um…hey.
What’s the deal? You look like crap. You sleep on the beach or something?
Nah. Didn’t really sleep at all. Just a little down I guess.
Down?
Yeah, I had the bright idea of going to the City Commission meeting last night.
So?
So, it was a kind of bummer.
Well, I can’t say you have great taste in your choice of entertainment. Commission meetings ain’t exactly American Idol or even Germany v. Norway in Olympic curling. Have you seen those guys sweep? So cool...they float down the ice with these little brooms…
…Hey! This is important man.
Whoa. Sorry. Mr. Touchy today. Okay, I’m all ears. Take three deep breathes and talk to me.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Champagne Wishes and Site Plan Dreams
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hello Sunshine. Still hungover?
What?
Superbowl. Remember…Miami? Key Largo? Your Colts got slapped around a bit, buddy. You found solace with some guy named Jose Quervo at the hotel Tiki Bar when we got back there after the game.
Yeah, I paid the price and paid the tab, too.
That was the bet. Your bet, big shot, remember? Colts lost, so the tab was yours.
Yeah, but then you snuck those bottles of Dom Perrignon on the tab when I wasn’t looking.
Toasted the Saints with a fine glass of champagne and like 20 other Nawlin’s fans. Needed three bottles. You were busy whining some sob story to a wooden mermaid hanging on the wall next to the bar about how the Colts broke your heart like a cheating lover…funny stuff.
Wooden mermaid? Oy. She was awful quiet. And she didn’t drink much.
Don’t think you woke up till Tuesday. I know you don’t remember the drive home Monday. Surprised you’re here today.
I’m fine. But I should get a lawyer and sue you for those bottles of champagne…not cool. They’re like a hundred bucks per…
…and worth every dime.
My dimes.
Yes, a lot of your dimes, heh heh. So Perry Mason, under what theory would you sue me? Unlawful collection of a bet from a weeping friend of Jose Quervo? You knew the deal, you made the bet. You lost. You paid.
That’s your interpretation. I see it differently. The rules were that the loser pays the Tiki bar tab. You ran the tab up after the game and after you’d already won the bet. You’re just slanting the rules to suit your position.
Rules? It was a simple bet. You lost. Get over it. But I’m sure you can pay some lawyer at 1-800-WE SUE 4 U to take the case and bark at me about it.
I can and I should.
Great! Then I could go get one who I’d pay to see things my way. They could just bark at each other and kill a few trees sendin’ letters.
Kinda like the City’s lawyer and all those lawyers for the people near the Sandbar and now down in the banyan trees on Park. And of course, there’s always the lady lawyer for PAR too. Quoting law cases, attorney general opinions, whatever those are, and statutes, always the statutes…stomping their feet and threatening to sue the City…then billing a mullet net-full of cash by the hour. Great work if you can get it.
Yeah, well, seems that’s what lawyerin’ is you know. Get paid to look up a bunch of laws and facts, cherry pick the ones that help, stuff the one’s that don’t back in your briefcase, then spout off about how your client is a victim of political retribution. It’s called advocating.
Doesn’t seem real fair though, does it?
Huh?
Doesn’t seem fair. The City’s lawyer…well I guess he’s our lawyer since it’s our dollars that pay him…he can’t really be…uh…what’d you call it?
Advocating?
Yeah, he can’t really be advocating, can he? I mean, he can’t cherry pick…like you said…the laws and the facts. The City ain’t paying him to spout off, we’re payin’ him to keep us outta trouble, right? He can’t stuff the bad news back in his briefcase. And if that means he’s gotta give us news we don’t want to hear, well…that’s just the way it is. Doesn’t seem like the fun side to be representing.
It’s fun if you know you’re right.
Think he knows he’s right?
Got me. Haven’t heard him take a position on it lately. You?
Nope and there’s a P&Z and City Commission love fest this week that’ll be a waste of time unless he let’s the City know whether the sloop they’re sailing is seaworthy or it has a nasty little leak.
Think the sloop’s leakin’?
No, but then I’m no lawyer. You’d think if there was a leak he’da let us all know by now so somebody could start bailing.
So, no news is good news?
Uhn uh. No news is just no news. But the clock’s tickin’ and it seems we better hear something from him pretty soon. In a couple weeks, P&Z’s gotta give the thumbs up or down on a site plan that'll affect every other site plan from here on out, you know?
Or they could punt. Hard to know which door to take when you’re walking around in the dark. They could tell our lawyer they need some answers before they make any decisions that’ll change what this town’ll look like when my grandson is sitting here on this little pier talking to your grandson about it.
You’re right. Seems pretty clear that as much as that PAR lawyer wants to make it about them and gripe about political retribution, this decision, who will make it, and what they’ll rely on to make it, really is about something a lot bigger than one site plan. Yep, pretty important stuff.
Bet you hope your grandson will be better at picking Super Bowl winners by then than you are.
And I hope your grandson learns to pay for his own damn champagne.
Oh, get over it.
I’m over it. See you tomorrow.
Yeah, tomorrow.
© 2010-William L. Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Hello Sunshine. Still hungover?
What?
Superbowl. Remember…Miami? Key Largo? Your Colts got slapped around a bit, buddy. You found solace with some guy named Jose Quervo at the hotel Tiki Bar when we got back there after the game.
Yeah, I paid the price and paid the tab, too.
That was the bet. Your bet, big shot, remember? Colts lost, so the tab was yours.
Yeah, but then you snuck those bottles of Dom Perrignon on the tab when I wasn’t looking.
Toasted the Saints with a fine glass of champagne and like 20 other Nawlin’s fans. Needed three bottles. You were busy whining some sob story to a wooden mermaid hanging on the wall next to the bar about how the Colts broke your heart like a cheating lover…funny stuff.
Wooden mermaid? Oy. She was awful quiet. And she didn’t drink much.
Don’t think you woke up till Tuesday. I know you don’t remember the drive home Monday. Surprised you’re here today.
I’m fine. But I should get a lawyer and sue you for those bottles of champagne…not cool. They’re like a hundred bucks per…
…and worth every dime.
My dimes.
Yes, a lot of your dimes, heh heh. So Perry Mason, under what theory would you sue me? Unlawful collection of a bet from a weeping friend of Jose Quervo? You knew the deal, you made the bet. You lost. You paid.
That’s your interpretation. I see it differently. The rules were that the loser pays the Tiki bar tab. You ran the tab up after the game and after you’d already won the bet. You’re just slanting the rules to suit your position.
Rules? It was a simple bet. You lost. Get over it. But I’m sure you can pay some lawyer at 1-800-WE SUE 4 U to take the case and bark at me about it.
I can and I should.
Great! Then I could go get one who I’d pay to see things my way. They could just bark at each other and kill a few trees sendin’ letters.
Kinda like the City’s lawyer and all those lawyers for the people near the Sandbar and now down in the banyan trees on Park. And of course, there’s always the lady lawyer for PAR too. Quoting law cases, attorney general opinions, whatever those are, and statutes, always the statutes…stomping their feet and threatening to sue the City…then billing a mullet net-full of cash by the hour. Great work if you can get it.
Yeah, well, seems that’s what lawyerin’ is you know. Get paid to look up a bunch of laws and facts, cherry pick the ones that help, stuff the one’s that don’t back in your briefcase, then spout off about how your client is a victim of political retribution. It’s called advocating.
Doesn’t seem real fair though, does it?
Huh?
Doesn’t seem fair. The City’s lawyer…well I guess he’s our lawyer since it’s our dollars that pay him…he can’t really be…uh…what’d you call it?
Advocating?
Yeah, he can’t really be advocating, can he? I mean, he can’t cherry pick…like you said…the laws and the facts. The City ain’t paying him to spout off, we’re payin’ him to keep us outta trouble, right? He can’t stuff the bad news back in his briefcase. And if that means he’s gotta give us news we don’t want to hear, well…that’s just the way it is. Doesn’t seem like the fun side to be representing.
It’s fun if you know you’re right.
Think he knows he’s right?
Got me. Haven’t heard him take a position on it lately. You?
Nope and there’s a P&Z and City Commission love fest this week that’ll be a waste of time unless he let’s the City know whether the sloop they’re sailing is seaworthy or it has a nasty little leak.
Think the sloop’s leakin’?
No, but then I’m no lawyer. You’d think if there was a leak he’da let us all know by now so somebody could start bailing.
So, no news is good news?
Uhn uh. No news is just no news. But the clock’s tickin’ and it seems we better hear something from him pretty soon. In a couple weeks, P&Z’s gotta give the thumbs up or down on a site plan that'll affect every other site plan from here on out, you know?
Or they could punt. Hard to know which door to take when you’re walking around in the dark. They could tell our lawyer they need some answers before they make any decisions that’ll change what this town’ll look like when my grandson is sitting here on this little pier talking to your grandson about it.
You’re right. Seems pretty clear that as much as that PAR lawyer wants to make it about them and gripe about political retribution, this decision, who will make it, and what they’ll rely on to make it, really is about something a lot bigger than one site plan. Yep, pretty important stuff.
Bet you hope your grandson will be better at picking Super Bowl winners by then than you are.
And I hope your grandson learns to pay for his own damn champagne.
Oh, get over it.
I’m over it. See you tomorrow.
Yeah, tomorrow.
© 2010-William L. Yanger
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Boomp Dalla Boomp Dang Ding
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Yes it is, yes…it…is. So I guess you were right.
Right?
Yeah, you told me about the folks from England splitting with PAR like weeks ago.
I did not.
Did so.
Nope, I told you to go find out for yourself, like a real reporter, back when you were gonna be the next Woodward and Bernstein.
Don’t exaggerate. I can’t be both guys, duh.
You know what I mean. Why’re you bringing it up now?
Cuz you were right. And that newspaper finally had a story on it the other day…two weeks after you…uhh…hinted about it and a week after the nice English lady had to write them a letter to let them know they got it wrong, again.
Well, it was nothin’ I did. Information’s out there. Just gotta go get it.
Hey, you like jazz right?
Jazz?
Yeah, jazz. Like Thelonius Monk, Stan Getz, John Coltrane.
I’ll listen if someone plays it but can’t say I’m an aficionado, no.
Love that stuff…bump de bump padda boomp dalla boomp dang ding…
Yeah, more like thelonius stunk coming from you. What’s the deal with this jazz stuff?
Going to The Sandbar for that Jazz Fest. Way cool. Sandbar does it right. Great music, some tasty nibbles, a few cocktails. They’re raising money for the Historical Society. Gonna try to chat up their executive director lady. She’s kinda cute.
She’s married, twerp.
Hey, no harm no foul. So am I. Just bein’ friendly.
I went by the Historical Society a while back. Well done. Some really interesting old stuff in that place.
True. You could be an exhibit.
At least I’m interesting. So you going to this Jazz thing alone?
No. Sister’s in town. Tryin’ to show her around…see the sights. You know, all the Anna Maria things to give her a feel for our town.
Take her to a P&Z meeting. Or maybe that Parking Safety Committee, they meet pretty soon. Riveting stuff.
She’s not real political.
I was kidding, genius. Hey, I got it! You could watch “Dodge A Pedestrian” down on Pine Avenue or “Crosswalk Roulette” over at Magnolia and Gulf.
Seriously, I want her to see why I love this place so much.
Well heck, that’s easy. Take her to Bean Point at sunset and watch a ga-zillion seabirds settle in their nesting grounds right there in the dunes or watch the rest wing it to Passage Key out towards Egmont. Look a little further to the right and watch the Don Cesar on Passa Grille turn as pink as a baby’s nose. You can almost hear the steel drums on the cruise ships heading out off Fort Desoto. Then, when the light hits the roof of Tropicana Field just right, it looks like a giant mushroom growing under the skyscrapers in downtown St. Pete. And that low warm light turns the Skyway Bridge into an immense magical yellow harp waiting to be played by the gods. Nothing like it in the world. It’ll soothe what ails you. Does me.
Love Bean Point. You know, it’s my center. Great idea…but there’s a problem.
Problem?
She’s in a wheelchair most of the time. Tough to get out on the beach.
Then what about the City Pier? Great view. Cold beer.
Have you ever tried to wheel a wheel chair out on the City Pier?
Uh, no.
Guess it’s possible but I’d rattle her crowns loose before I got to the yellow cast-net line half way out.
Wow, never thought about that. Probably right. I wonder how many other folks don’t go out there for the same reason. It’s a hike on good knees.
Yep, and that’s just one reason why that lady commissioner’s idea about the boardwalk thingy is kinda cool.
Boardwalk thingy?
Yeah, she wants to put up boardwalk, you know, like Coney Island only different, that’ll run along the bay both ways from the pier. Has a nice covered trolley stop too. Tell me that won’t be a godsend in an August thunder boomer.
Nice idea but big bucks dude.
Wrong-o buster. She spent a bunch of time and effort getting a bucket full of Tallahassee money, like 800 grand, to build the thing. Had umpteen meetings here about it. Now just needs to see that it gets done.
So, is there a problem?
Not yet, but some folks with a say-so have been less than enthusiastic lately. Now that she got the money and it looks like it could happen, questions are starting to bubble up. Nobody’s saying “No” but they ain’t saying yes yet either. Wanna see more details.
Guess it has to run its bureaucratic course like everything else around here. But that’s $800,000 of found money. How they gonna turn that down?
Hope they don’t. It’d clean up and organize that sand pit of a parking lot in both directions. Be nice for folks to enjoy the view even if the pier isn’t for them. I’m thinking of you my friend. A few years and you’re officially an old fart with two bad knees.
Me? Hah. Strong like bull.
Bull is the appropriate description, for sure...bewop debop ding bamba ding…Why don’t you hit the Sandbar with us later. You could use some jazz’n up.
I may do that, if you promise to listen and not sing.
See you there, if not, see you tomorrow.
Yeah, there or tomorrow.
© 2010 – William L. Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Yes it is, yes…it…is. So I guess you were right.
Right?
Yeah, you told me about the folks from England splitting with PAR like weeks ago.
I did not.
Did so.
Nope, I told you to go find out for yourself, like a real reporter, back when you were gonna be the next Woodward and Bernstein.
Don’t exaggerate. I can’t be both guys, duh.
You know what I mean. Why’re you bringing it up now?
Cuz you were right. And that newspaper finally had a story on it the other day…two weeks after you…uhh…hinted about it and a week after the nice English lady had to write them a letter to let them know they got it wrong, again.
Well, it was nothin’ I did. Information’s out there. Just gotta go get it.
Hey, you like jazz right?
Jazz?
Yeah, jazz. Like Thelonius Monk, Stan Getz, John Coltrane.
I’ll listen if someone plays it but can’t say I’m an aficionado, no.
Love that stuff…bump de bump padda boomp dalla boomp dang ding…
Yeah, more like thelonius stunk coming from you. What’s the deal with this jazz stuff?
Going to The Sandbar for that Jazz Fest. Way cool. Sandbar does it right. Great music, some tasty nibbles, a few cocktails. They’re raising money for the Historical Society. Gonna try to chat up their executive director lady. She’s kinda cute.
She’s married, twerp.
Hey, no harm no foul. So am I. Just bein’ friendly.
I went by the Historical Society a while back. Well done. Some really interesting old stuff in that place.
True. You could be an exhibit.
At least I’m interesting. So you going to this Jazz thing alone?
No. Sister’s in town. Tryin’ to show her around…see the sights. You know, all the Anna Maria things to give her a feel for our town.
Take her to a P&Z meeting. Or maybe that Parking Safety Committee, they meet pretty soon. Riveting stuff.
She’s not real political.
I was kidding, genius. Hey, I got it! You could watch “Dodge A Pedestrian” down on Pine Avenue or “Crosswalk Roulette” over at Magnolia and Gulf.
Seriously, I want her to see why I love this place so much.
Well heck, that’s easy. Take her to Bean Point at sunset and watch a ga-zillion seabirds settle in their nesting grounds right there in the dunes or watch the rest wing it to Passage Key out towards Egmont. Look a little further to the right and watch the Don Cesar on Passa Grille turn as pink as a baby’s nose. You can almost hear the steel drums on the cruise ships heading out off Fort Desoto. Then, when the light hits the roof of Tropicana Field just right, it looks like a giant mushroom growing under the skyscrapers in downtown St. Pete. And that low warm light turns the Skyway Bridge into an immense magical yellow harp waiting to be played by the gods. Nothing like it in the world. It’ll soothe what ails you. Does me.
Love Bean Point. You know, it’s my center. Great idea…but there’s a problem.
Problem?
She’s in a wheelchair most of the time. Tough to get out on the beach.
Then what about the City Pier? Great view. Cold beer.
Have you ever tried to wheel a wheel chair out on the City Pier?
Uh, no.
Guess it’s possible but I’d rattle her crowns loose before I got to the yellow cast-net line half way out.
Wow, never thought about that. Probably right. I wonder how many other folks don’t go out there for the same reason. It’s a hike on good knees.
Yep, and that’s just one reason why that lady commissioner’s idea about the boardwalk thingy is kinda cool.
Boardwalk thingy?
Yeah, she wants to put up boardwalk, you know, like Coney Island only different, that’ll run along the bay both ways from the pier. Has a nice covered trolley stop too. Tell me that won’t be a godsend in an August thunder boomer.
Nice idea but big bucks dude.
Wrong-o buster. She spent a bunch of time and effort getting a bucket full of Tallahassee money, like 800 grand, to build the thing. Had umpteen meetings here about it. Now just needs to see that it gets done.
So, is there a problem?
Not yet, but some folks with a say-so have been less than enthusiastic lately. Now that she got the money and it looks like it could happen, questions are starting to bubble up. Nobody’s saying “No” but they ain’t saying yes yet either. Wanna see more details.
Guess it has to run its bureaucratic course like everything else around here. But that’s $800,000 of found money. How they gonna turn that down?
Hope they don’t. It’d clean up and organize that sand pit of a parking lot in both directions. Be nice for folks to enjoy the view even if the pier isn’t for them. I’m thinking of you my friend. A few years and you’re officially an old fart with two bad knees.
Me? Hah. Strong like bull.
Bull is the appropriate description, for sure...bewop debop ding bamba ding…Why don’t you hit the Sandbar with us later. You could use some jazz’n up.
I may do that, if you promise to listen and not sing.
See you there, if not, see you tomorrow.
Yeah, there or tomorrow.
© 2010 – William L. Yanger
Friday, January 29, 2010
Thanks For Being Here
Welcome back to the Our Anna Maria blog. If you're new here - and we’ve had a LOT of new readers recently - thanks for joining us. If you're a regular reader, thanks for sticking with us.
Another installment of our Conversations series follows below. Please remember that these are imaginary guys drinking imaginary coffee and having imaginary conversations about their imaginary lives here in Anna Maria. They started at Ginny and Jane E’s, moved to the Rod & Reel so they would feel wanted and, who knows, they may end up somewhere else at some point in the future. I get a lot of questions about who these guys really are, will they let someone else join them, are they handsome, are they rich…but, alas, they are not real. They are not anyone you or I have ever met. They’re just two figments of our collective imaginations who love their time in this village as much as we all do. To new readers, some references and character traits…or flaws…may be confusing. If you feel the urge, you’re invited to click HERE or on the label “Conversations” at the bottom right of this post and you will be directed to all previous Conversations, most recent first so just scroll down to get to the early ones.
Oh, and please do not limit yourself to the Conversations. There are dozens of informative and intriguing posts and comments about what’s happening here. If you are drawn to a particular subject, click on the label at the bottom right of a given post for related posts. Any of the posts can be found from the list on the lower right of this page.
So have at it. Join the fray. Explore, discover and discuss. Agree with the commentator or challenge his, or her, premise. We just ask that you stay civil and factual and, of course, the boss always reserves the right to toss you if you stray.
Thanks again for joining us. We urge you to consider requesting a subscription and contributing your two cents, or more, to the discussion. Whether you subscribe or not please send our link to your friends:
to stay updated about new posts to the blog or share some of your own thoughts, pictures and stories of this neat little town.
Most importantly, thanks for reading. And come back. Often.
All the best to all the best.
Bill Yanger
Another installment of our Conversations series follows below. Please remember that these are imaginary guys drinking imaginary coffee and having imaginary conversations about their imaginary lives here in Anna Maria. They started at Ginny and Jane E’s, moved to the Rod & Reel so they would feel wanted and, who knows, they may end up somewhere else at some point in the future. I get a lot of questions about who these guys really are, will they let someone else join them, are they handsome, are they rich…but, alas, they are not real. They are not anyone you or I have ever met. They’re just two figments of our collective imaginations who love their time in this village as much as we all do. To new readers, some references and character traits…or flaws…may be confusing. If you feel the urge, you’re invited to click HERE or on the label “Conversations” at the bottom right of this post and you will be directed to all previous Conversations, most recent first so just scroll down to get to the early ones.
Oh, and please do not limit yourself to the Conversations. There are dozens of informative and intriguing posts and comments about what’s happening here. If you are drawn to a particular subject, click on the label at the bottom right of a given post for related posts. Any of the posts can be found from the list on the lower right of this page.
So have at it. Join the fray. Explore, discover and discuss. Agree with the commentator or challenge his, or her, premise. We just ask that you stay civil and factual and, of course, the boss always reserves the right to toss you if you stray.
Thanks again for joining us. We urge you to consider requesting a subscription and contributing your two cents, or more, to the discussion. Whether you subscribe or not please send our link to your friends:
If you’re a Facebooker, become a fan of the Our Anna Maria Blog page by clicking this link:
to stay updated about new posts to the blog or share some of your own thoughts, pictures and stories of this neat little town.
Most importantly, thanks for reading. And come back. Often.
All the best to all the best.
Bill Yanger
Potato Potahto, Tomato Tomahto
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod &Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Yessir, good morning. Go Saints!
Saints. Pffft. You kidding me? Peyton Manning will shred New Orleans next weekend. Speakin’ of, so when we leaving for Miami?
Had to go all the way to Key Largo to get a hotel room. Not bad though…on the water. Tiki bar. Need to check in by 6 next Friday night.
Key Largo? That’s gotta be two hours from the stadium on a good day. Maybe more.
Did you hear me say Tiki Bar…on the water. And if you’ll remember, you’re my guest…any other complaints?
Right. Super Bowl. Tiki bar. I love two-hour drives in South Florida traffic. Just think of all the talk radio we can listen to. And I’ll bring my old Who cd’s…they’re playin’ at halftime…you know… “peeeeople try to put us dowwwwnnnn…talkin’ bought my gennnnnner-A-tion!”
My god! Was that an angry cat or did you just try to sing?
So I’m no Roger Daltrey…but I can play a mean air guitar! “Mmmmy generation babayyyyyy!!”
Okay, okay stop it. Bring all the cd’s you want. But no more singing…or whatever that was you were doing.
Can’t wait see all those celebrities at the big parties. George Clooney, Brad Pitt…
…Oprah Winfrey…Dr. Oz!
…Paris Hilton!
Uh…yeah…well, let's hope not. And by the way, don’t count on getting into any big parties. A-listers only. Not exactly our social strata.
No parties?
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at the Rod &Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Yessir, good morning. Go Saints!
Saints. Pffft. You kidding me? Peyton Manning will shred New Orleans next weekend. Speakin’ of, so when we leaving for Miami?
Had to go all the way to Key Largo to get a hotel room. Not bad though…on the water. Tiki bar. Need to check in by 6 next Friday night.
Key Largo? That’s gotta be two hours from the stadium on a good day. Maybe more.
Did you hear me say Tiki Bar…on the water. And if you’ll remember, you’re my guest…any other complaints?
Right. Super Bowl. Tiki bar. I love two-hour drives in South Florida traffic. Just think of all the talk radio we can listen to. And I’ll bring my old Who cd’s…they’re playin’ at halftime…you know… “peeeeople try to put us dowwwwnnnn…talkin’ bought my gennnnnner-A-tion!”
My god! Was that an angry cat or did you just try to sing?
So I’m no Roger Daltrey…but I can play a mean air guitar! “Mmmmy generation babayyyyyy!!”
Okay, okay stop it. Bring all the cd’s you want. But no more singing…or whatever that was you were doing.
Can’t wait see all those celebrities at the big parties. George Clooney, Brad Pitt…
…Oprah Winfrey…Dr. Oz!
…Paris Hilton!
Uh…yeah…well, let's hope not. And by the way, don’t count on getting into any big parties. A-listers only. Not exactly our social strata.
No parties?
Thursday, January 21, 2010
In Perspective
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at, now, the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
It’s a wonderful morning actually.
Ahhh, a bit perky are we?
Just happy to be alive and healthy my friend. Bills are piling up, the car needs new tires, the house needs a coat of paint. Have you tried getting down an aisle at Publix lately? My mango tree is on life support, I gotta do my taxes, that Republican guy won in Massachusetts…Massachusetts for chrissakes!...oy…but you know what?
What?
We don’t live in Haiti. Poor souls…
Yeah, kinda puts things in perspective.
Right, perspective, good word. Here’s my perspective…my faucet gives me cool clean drinking water whenever I want it, my cabinet’s full of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle, Publix is a ten minute trolley ride and I can catch a trout blindfolded with one hand anytime I find the need. My roof is still above my head, not pancaked on my floor. My dog spends sunsets chasing ghost crabs not sniffing for the living and finding the dead. No hoodlum mobs looting that P&Z lady’s General Store on Pine. No aircraft carriers sitting off Bean Point waiting to deploy the 82nd Airborne into a Sandbar wed…er…unification ceremony by Reverend Charlie. Developers can still wrestle with city hall and city hall can still execute an effective arm-bar takedown of those developers when they need to. A citizen can exercise his rights and attend a commission meeting and a Commissioner can exercise his rights and schedule a commission meeting. How cool is that? I got lots of friends and I can’t name an enemy. Life is good in my world.
I hear you. We have a lot to be thankful for, that’s for sure.
Well, not to put a buzz-kill on our little feel good session, but you do know it could all end?
Huh?
We could be them.
Who?
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at, now, the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
It’s a wonderful morning actually.
Ahhh, a bit perky are we?
Just happy to be alive and healthy my friend. Bills are piling up, the car needs new tires, the house needs a coat of paint. Have you tried getting down an aisle at Publix lately? My mango tree is on life support, I gotta do my taxes, that Republican guy won in Massachusetts…Massachusetts for chrissakes!...oy…but you know what?
What?
We don’t live in Haiti. Poor souls…
Yeah, kinda puts things in perspective.
Right, perspective, good word. Here’s my perspective…my faucet gives me cool clean drinking water whenever I want it, my cabinet’s full of Campbell’s Chicken Noodle, Publix is a ten minute trolley ride and I can catch a trout blindfolded with one hand anytime I find the need. My roof is still above my head, not pancaked on my floor. My dog spends sunsets chasing ghost crabs not sniffing for the living and finding the dead. No hoodlum mobs looting that P&Z lady’s General Store on Pine. No aircraft carriers sitting off Bean Point waiting to deploy the 82nd Airborne into a Sandbar wed…er…unification ceremony by Reverend Charlie. Developers can still wrestle with city hall and city hall can still execute an effective arm-bar takedown of those developers when they need to. A citizen can exercise his rights and attend a commission meeting and a Commissioner can exercise his rights and schedule a commission meeting. How cool is that? I got lots of friends and I can’t name an enemy. Life is good in my world.
I hear you. We have a lot to be thankful for, that’s for sure.
Well, not to put a buzz-kill on our little feel good session, but you do know it could all end?
Huh?
We could be them.
Who?
Thursday, January 14, 2010
Stranger Things Have Happened
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at, now, the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Uh, no, it’s another friggin’ frigid morning, pal. That is not a good morning in our sunny town, at least not in my book.
Didn’t you enjoy your brisk little walk down here to the Rod & Reel? Sure woke me up. Check out that view…Egmont…Ft. Desoto…the Skyway. And those dolphins…wow…love this place.
I love this place too but look at these…I had to wear socks with my flip flops. Socks! It’s a sin! And my yard, my poor yard. My crotons are brown, the seagrape is dropping leaves and my impatiens have gone to that great flowerbed in the sky.
Why didn’t you cover them?
Cover them? Plants aren’t supposed to freeze in Anna Maria.
Stranger things have happened. And apparently did.
Well, I’ve been too busy anyway.
Busy?
Yeah, busy with plans for my new newspaper.
Last week it was a site plan. Now it’s a newspaper plan. You’re just a regular entrepreneurial planner…uh, hey… what are you doing with that little flip notepad.
Taking notes, genius.
Obviously. Why?
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at, now, the Rod & Reel Pier. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Uh, no, it’s another friggin’ frigid morning, pal. That is not a good morning in our sunny town, at least not in my book.
Didn’t you enjoy your brisk little walk down here to the Rod & Reel? Sure woke me up. Check out that view…Egmont…Ft. Desoto…the Skyway. And those dolphins…wow…love this place.
I love this place too but look at these…I had to wear socks with my flip flops. Socks! It’s a sin! And my yard, my poor yard. My crotons are brown, the seagrape is dropping leaves and my impatiens have gone to that great flowerbed in the sky.
Why didn’t you cover them?
Cover them? Plants aren’t supposed to freeze in Anna Maria.
Stranger things have happened. And apparently did.
Well, I’ve been too busy anyway.
Busy?
Yeah, busy with plans for my new newspaper.
Last week it was a site plan. Now it’s a newspaper plan. You’re just a regular entrepreneurial planner…uh, hey… what are you doing with that little flip notepad.
Taking notes, genius.
Obviously. Why?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Hey, I'm Growing A Beard Over Here!
By Bill Yanger
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at…uh…well, Ginny & Jane E’s, at least for now. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Morning.
Just grabbed this couch. Have a seat…get comfortable.
Don’t mind if I do sir.
Where’d you get the coffee?
Brewed it myself…Naviera…like cuban black gold…roasted up in Tampa in Ybor City. Makes my hair stand up!
What is that thing? An electric razor?
Yep. Got it for Christmas. Pretty cool huh? It’s got this oscillating head…see?…and it cleans itself.
Uh, yeah, oscillating…nice. But…
Lifetime sharpening included, great carrying case…
But wha…
Here, feel my chin. Smooth as a baby’s butt, right?
I’ll pass on stroking your chin, thank you. You obviously shaved this morning. So why the heck did you bring that thing with you into Ginny and Jane E’s?
Another in a continuing series of imagined conversations over coffee at…uh…well, Ginny & Jane E’s, at least for now. Any resemblance to persons or personalities, real or imagined, is entirely coincidental and mostly unintended.
Good morning.
Morning.
Just grabbed this couch. Have a seat…get comfortable.
Don’t mind if I do sir.
Where’d you get the coffee?
Brewed it myself…Naviera…like cuban black gold…roasted up in Tampa in Ybor City. Makes my hair stand up!
What is that thing? An electric razor?
Yep. Got it for Christmas. Pretty cool huh? It’s got this oscillating head…see?…and it cleans itself.
Uh, yeah, oscillating…nice. But…
Lifetime sharpening included, great carrying case…
But wha…
Here, feel my chin. Smooth as a baby’s butt, right?
I’ll pass on stroking your chin, thank you. You obviously shaved this morning. So why the heck did you bring that thing with you into Ginny and Jane E’s?
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