Our possessions apparently have yet to leave the Portland warehouse, so we’ve got time for extended stay in Indianapolis. Two extra days are now in the plan before we head to Atlanta, one step away from moving into our new home. The troublesome kidney stone was extracted yesterday and my wife is feeling much better. Even though the doctor has cleared her for travel, we decided it’s best to rest for a few days here and reschedule what we missed with Indy friends. Getting back behind the wheel can wait.
It was too rainy yesterday for Tally and I to sit outside and wait for the urologist to complete surgery. Instead of TD Alibi’s as planned, we drove up to a friend’s house in Noblesville. We dropped my wife off at the hospital downtown and spent three hours in waiting. Texts and phone calls kept me up to date on the procedure, since we were not allowed to stay. As she begins to heal, the freedom of retirement allows us the flexibility to adjust our schedule to eventually hook up with the movers, provided my brother-in-law can tolerate my presence for a few extra days. We’re in no rush – at least today, but house guests can begin to stink like dead fish when they overstay their welcome. Glad to have great, tolerant relatives!
I have a Leadership Zoom meeting this afternoon, continuing the once face-to-face Friday lunch tradition started back in Portland years ago. I can still be with my friends despite being thousands of miles away from them. I’ll catch them up on the trials of tribulations of moving to Florida and we’ll certainly discuss the fate of the I.U. basketball program that has been gaining credibility these past few weeks. Xaviar Johnson from Pittsburgh will take Armaan Franklin’s guard position as he moves to Virginia. Dane Fife joins the coaching staff and there’s no one from last year’s IU roster left in the transfer portal. The next step will be finding a big man or two to make us more competitive under the basket. The future of IU basketball has grown from dismal (almost as painful as a kidney stone) to bright in just the past two weeks. I’ll continue to monitor it in the local papers as we’re now in for an Extended Stay.
Today’s Easter leg (not egg or even leg of lamb) of our cross-country trek takes us from Utah into Wyoming with an overnight stop in Burlington, Colorado. My wife continues to battle a painful kidney stone, but made it through her two driving shifts. The scenery through Oregon was spectacular as usual and not as burnt-out in the Eastern section as it was seven years ago when we first crossed the state line. Idaho was short and sweet while Utah had some long stretches of boredom as the day wore on. We did catch a glimpse of the Great Salt Lake just before arriving at our hotel about 9 p.m., despite an hour loss from the Time Zone change.
I was monitoring the UCLA vs. Gonzaga NCAA Final Four match-up, hoping to get in front of a TV for the overtime. There were unfortunately too many hassles getting checked-in and hauling all our luggage to the room. As a result, I just missed the Zags buzzer-beater to remain perfect. I still have mixed feelings about their quest to tie the unbeaten 1976 Indiana 32-0 National Championship, but with the fortune of that final bank shot, all they have to do is beat Baylor Monday night. From the beginning of the 2020-21 season, this pairing has been on everyone’s radar since it was cancelled back in December due to the pandemic. We’ll soon have the answer. I did watch the White Sox blow an 8th inning lead against the Angels before I turned in for the night on a sour note.
The Sox have started an ominous 1-2 despite some record breaking performances by Yermin Mercedes – 8 for 8 in his first two games and the first grand slam of 2021 by Jose Abreu. Mercedes has filled in “perfectly” at DH for injured slugger Eloy Jimenez, who could be out of the line up for most of the regular season. Basketball, baseball, and the map app kept me occupied while I navigated 1-84 from Portland to Ogden/Layton. Today, as we cross the Continental Divide, it’s I-80 through Cheyenne, I-25 into Denver, and I-70 to our Burlington bed – the Easter Leg!
Marriott Millionaire
I’m a Marriott Millionaire,
With points to burn.
Always anxious to find,
Creative ways to earn.
Mother Marriott,
Is my second home.
Provides a bed or beach,
Even a misplaced comb.
I can check-in on my phone.
Platinum service at any hour.
Special upgrades to a suite,
It’s like a Superpower.
Travel almost anywhere,
From Bali to Orlando.
Dine in my pajamas,
Or use credits for a show.
I’m a Vacation Club owner,
With condos worldwide.
There’s few places I can’t go,
When Mother’s at my side.
As a Bonvoy card holder,
More rewards go in my bank.
With everything I buy,
I have J.W. to thank.
I rarely use my wallet,
They know me everywhere.
From Maui to Bangkok,
I haven’t got a care.
I might be in the pool,
Or sunning on the beach.
A sandwich or a cocktail,
Is never out of reach.
My wife is almost jealous,
And sadly would agree.
She says, “you love your points,
More than you love me!”
Copyright 2021 johnstonwrites.com
Before the plane ride home from Miami yesterday, my wife reminded me that I typically write a recap poem after each of our adventures. I went to work during the nine hours it took to get back to Portland.
Miami Memories
Flew into Miami Beach,
Airport for the night.
Unlike the gloom left behind,
The skies were blue and bright.
Rental Hertz to Adam’s,
Dance Recital to attend.
Fairfield our Venice home,
Marriott points to spend.
A reunion with Lexie,
Sidewalk Chalk to buy.
Birthday boy is fourteen,
And wants that Cutout, why?
Dining out every night,
Seven to a table.
No longer stuck inside,
Glad to cut the cable.
Golf for the guys,
Neighbors to greet.
Sun baked skin.
Sand under feet.
Saw our new roof,
Begin to take form.
The beach gave life,
A sense of norm.
Subway picnic on Manasota,
As chilly waves rolled in.
Seashells and shark’s teeth,
Glad we didn’t see a fin!
The Sarasota Emersons,
A couple biker bars.
Alligator sighting,
A home we’ll soon call ours.
Cracker Barrel stops,
A dent in the hood.
That crazy coconut,
Was it up to no good?
Enjoyed a Dolphin sunset.
The Berry’s our hosts.
Spooner in Vero,
Dodgertown ghosts.
Too much driving,
We have a tanning date.
The Deco District calling,
The Keys will have to wait.
Pacific in our front yard.
Chairs strapped to our back.
Raven’s streak to watch,
Stone Crabs yet to Crack.
Sancerre and martinis,
Setting back our clocks.
The only real problem,
Was finding missing socks.
Though without a pool,
We’ll soon have our own.
Another presentation call,
Don’t answer the phone.
We finally ate,
Some key lime pie.
And went to bed,
With a sugar high!
The Betsy for a steak,
Walgreens for gourmet.
Except for that sandstorm,
Another sunny day.
Pizza in the toaster,
Fire Alarm goes off,
Please keep your distance,
And mask that cough.
The scene on Ocean Drive,
A tropical path to stroll.
South Beach paradise,
Popover not just roll.
We might stay forever,
But Tally wants us back.
My belly fat is burning,
And just too much butt crack.
copyright 2021 johnstonwrites.com
It’s Friday in Miami with cool temperatures now that the wind has died down. Yesterday, was unbearable on the beach like being sandblasted, my sunburn-sensitive skin pelted with granular pellets. We retreated to the deck of our hotel as the palm trees were whipped into a frenzy resembling one of those inflatable advertising figures perched on the roof of a store. I fell asleep early last night, bored after another do-nothing day. There’s even less privacy and space in this hotel room than in our apartment, although the deck is great for morning sun.
I was in search of the Fountainebleau on this morning’s run, a historic hotel where I once stayed with my mother-in-law and son (See Post #151). I can’t remember why I selected it after a business trip to Ft. Lauderdale, but I promised my young son, an avid Dolphins fan, that we would stay in Miami. I dropped the two of them off at a Boca Raton beach while I made my lunch call on the now defunct Levitz Furniture, and I recall them being soaked by an unexpected afternoon shower once I came back for the rescue. This has been at least thirty years ago when he was a teen, so early 1990s. I must have made a reservation because the famous fountain was under construction along with the beachfront swimming pool, and I remember joking that we must have pulled into “the Blue Fountain” instead. I did find a ladies watch in a drawer and thought that this was why the room was so pricy. The experience was a total disappointment after feeling like a bigshot advertising executive in anticipation of luxury accommodations on glitzy Miami Beach.
The fact that it was featured in the 1964 James Bond movie Goldfinger must have been one of the lures for booking it. The hotel opened in 1954 on the site of the former Harvey Firestone estate. Al Capone died in 1947, but there were other mob associations with the Fountainebleau and other Miami hotspots. Capone’s estate, built in 1928, is on Palm Island near where we ate at Joe’s Stone Crab the other night. It was one of the few Miami restaurants that would accept his business once he was released from prison. I always find myself drawn to these Mafia connections when I travel and Miami is no exception. The Fountainebleau turned out to be out of running range this morning. I missed it by three blocks, so maybe I’ll try again tomorrow.
My wife and I are settling into a Miami routine now that we’ve gotten rid of the rental car, bought groceries, and cleared our calendars for the rest of the week. We spent several hours on the beach yesterday and tried to brown some pizza slices in the toaster turned sideways. The smoke alarm naturally went off in the process. I also did a couple of loads of laundry just like being at home. We ended the evening with There’s Something About Mary and The Waterboy, instead of going clubbing. We were obviously tired from all the driving around Florida and glad to take a break. We promise to make today more exciting.
One of the issues about staying in the South Beach Deco District is that our hotel has no pool. These fabulous landmarks across from the Atlantic Ocean were built in the 30s and are packed-in next to each other along Ocean Drive. There are no tennis courts and pools, just miles of beachfront outlining the island. Washington Avenue and Collins Street (A1A) run north and south behind the hotels. Key Biscayne is directly to the south, only 200 miles from Havana or The Bahamas that are just slightly southeast. We’re truly in an island paradise.
I’ve been to the Bahamas twice, however the first time was a one-day junket from Indianapolis to Paradise Island for $99. I don’t remember the circumstances of the second visit but can recall gambling in a casino. It was long before Atlantis was built in 1998. At some point, I would like to travel to Cuba, although general tourism is still technically banned. First, however, we’ll get to The Keys once we settle in Florida. Today, my goal is more time in the sun, having avoided getting burned yesterday. I’m starting to get a little color back in my complexion that is still very pale in comparison with other beach goers. I’m afraid there’s little at this point I can do about my sagging physique!
In this Covid threatened world, the beach seems to be the one place where there’s a sense of normalcy. People can stay far enough away from each other that the spread is minimalized. I guess I’ll know in a few days if I’m right or wrong. Our hotel on South Beach was built in 1936, once known as the Edgewater but restored by Marriott. Art Deco surrounds us from the vibrant restaurant scene to the design of the lifeguard stations. The beach, however, is much more crowded than our previous stops, but our room comes with a cart complete with chairs, towels, umbrella, and cooler to further keep us sanitized.
Today we head to Vero Beach and historic “Dodgertown.” The friend we’re visiting is the daughter of a former Brooklyn Dodgers pitcher. With L.A. just winning the World Series it only seems appropriate to visit the site. We’ll return to South Beach at the end of the day after returning our rental car to the airport. It will be the end of too much driving and not enough sunning. There are a few faint suntan lines starting to define themselves on my too pale skin. Hopefully, I can build a permanent tan once we’re officially Florida residents, instead of waiting for occasional Portland sun breaks.
We dined at Walgreen’s last night – a gourmet first- after a heavy breakfast at the Naples Cracker Barrell. We’ll have a nice lunch in Vero Beach today and maybe a frozen pizza or White Castle sliders, remnants from our drug store shopping, once we get back in our room. It won’t be long before we’re enjoying the pricy South Beach restaurants, but saving a little money is a wise retirement choice. Maybe, I’ll even have a hot dog snack at “Dodgertown” this afternoon. Vero Beach here we come!
When I’m traveling, I always like to listen to a local radio station during my morning run. This morning I was in Naples, Florida on the sidewalks of U.S. 41. This habit comes from years in the business and years of running. I tuned to a country station, hoping to get a flavor for the area. When I was first in radio, saying “Hell” on the radio was frowned on by the FCC with threats of fines. I was surprised to find a radio station that branded itself “Hell Yeah 93.7. When I got back to my hotel room to cool off and write this blog, I discovered that they had just changed their name from “Trump Country.” Only in Florida!
Apparently, station programmer Rob Morris claimed that “Biden’s team contacted us, and we were afraid we’d lose our license, our license to broadcast, if we didn’t change it. So we went ahead and changed it.” After all, they are WHEL. I’m sure the change generated lots of publicity and whether good or bad, it’s all great in the media industry. It’s owned by Sun Broadcast Group. I’m just glad to be retired and enjoying the Florida sunshine, although the humidity is much higher just two hours south of Venice. We head to Miami this afternoon for the final week of our travels and other local radio stations to critique.
A sunset picnic was the highlight of yesterday’s activities that included a few Corona’s to help fight Corona. Our Indianapolis friends had a great beach set-up, while the weather was perfect. Sun, surf, and sunset is the ideal way to spend retirement, rather than the TV and more TV that we’ve been stuck with the past few months. It’s fabulous to escape from the dark gray skies of Portland for a few weeks. We’ve already done a lot of reconnecting with family and friends from afar in just our first few days. Will there be even more fun! Hell Yeah!
As part of today’s retirement journey, we move on to Vanderbilt Beach and more old friends to see. It was usually the ski slopes where we’d meet years ago, but now it’s the surf. It will certainly be another afternoon of laughs recounting the memories. More fellow Hoosier Snow Birds taking advantage of the sand and sunshine. My last two lunches were at beach bars with friends from Fort Wayne that I hadn’t seen for seven years, while today’s reunion over drinks will be three years for him and sixteen for her. We’ll spend the night in Naples and drive to Miami tomorrow.
My wife can’t bear to leave this morning without one last trip by the house, hoping that the front door is being installed and the roofing tile is completed. We’ve been by every day to check on its progress, still targeting mid-March completion. This will be our last opportunity before we move in. We also leave behind the grandkids until that moment when we become permanent residents. After the first night on South Beach we’ll then drive up to Vero Beach to visit with another Hoosier friend for the day, and back to Miami for the rest of our Florida stay.
I was excited that the I.U. Hoosier basketball team was able to redeem themselves last night with a victory over #4 Iowa. I was at a low point with the team after the Purdue embarrassment last week, and glad that I wouldn’t be able to watch last night for fear of more shame. In fact, I fell asleep at halftime and was shocked by the 81-69 final score. Somehow, the Cream & Crimson were able to overcome a twelve point deficit and win by thirteen. Iowa did not score for eleven minutes, so great defense and some much needed good fortune prevailed. The victory also gives them some tourney credibility that was certainly in doubt last week. Rutgers is the next match-up that I will also miss by being a Florida Snow Bird.
It’s a beautiful day of Florida sunshine and blue skies, as I have been dreaming of these past few months. We also did normal family things while practicing social distancing, like eat dinner in a restaurant and attend my granddaughter’s dance recital. Today, we may get a chance to see our new home at the half-way point of construction, go to the beach, and suffer through a round of golf with my grandson. He needs some fresh air and exercise after too many hours on the computer with school and games. I was glad to run this morning in just shorts and a t-shirt instead of major bundling-up to stay warm or dry.
For once, there was very little TV watching yesterday, just an occasional glimpse of the NFL playoff games on the restaurant’s bar screens. It was a three-hour drive from Miami to my son’s house, plus a brief intermission for lunch at the Naples Cracker Barrell. Dinner was at the Bonefish Grill after the two-hour dance extravaganza. Once I get this blog up to date, we’ll finalize today’s dining plan that will probably include McDonald’s and pizza to off-set yesterday’s expense. At least all our lodging on this trip is “free” thanks to Marriott Rewards and their vacation club. Sadly, we haven’t been able to take more advantage of this perk during these Covid stay-at-home times. After five nights in this Fairfield Inn suite, we’ll spend one night at the Naples Courtyard and seven nights at The Pulse Miami on famed South Beach before heading back to the grey skies of Portlandia.
My wife has been reunited with her car, now stored in my son’s garage after its August cross-country venture. and awaiting a permanent slot in our new garage. We did drive by the Islandwalk addition last night on our way home from dinner and will take some photos this morning. Tomorrow, we have a formal appointment with the builder. However, today the grandkids will take priority especially since there is no school due to the MLK holiday. I’m just content that there is no major driving necessary for a few days. Venice, Florida is officially our home-sweet-home for now and in the retirement future.
