My friend Elizabeth Anne Hill and I were talking the other day (she’s a writer, too) about how people accuse us of complaining when we tell what’s going on in our crazy lives, but we don’t see it that way. We both see it as noticing our circumstances and commenting on it. How else can you describe something, if you don’t point out the contrast you see? So when I talk here about being bored, I’m not complaining, I’m just sayin’.
I mean, I live in Florida, five miles from the Gulf of Mexico. I have no right to bitch. A boring day here is at least filled with amazing sights. Just last week Jeff and I went to the library because I’m doing research for a project I can’t talk about yet, and we saw this row of election signs littering the landscape. Among them was the most delightful thing I’ve seen in a long time: a candidate for Mosquito Commissioner named “Skeeter” Abbott. Only in Florida, man, only in Florida.
We decided, since we had the entire day to kill, to take a ride to Hudson Beach (which isn’t really much of a beach, per se, it’s more of a housing subdivision that ends with a small strip of sand bordering the Gulf where no swimming is allowed). The houses all have a river inlet and dock for a back yard.
On the way to the Gulf, we stopped for a hot dog at the Hudson Beach Ice Cream Parlor, a place we’ve driven past a thousand times but never visited. I was unimpressed with the “food” but hey, this is the kind of place you go for kitschy atmosphere, not fine dining.
Other than that, I just love sitting there at the water’s edge and listen to the waves and the seagulls, and drool over the gorgeous houses that sit on the shore and somehow survive the occasional hurricane.
And to top off this “boring” day, check out what we saw on the way home, in someone’s front yard. We weren’t at a zoo or wildlife sanctuary, these gigantic birds were in someone’s front yard. Seriously, if you’re going to live a boring life, it might as well be under a palm tree with birds as large as a second grader running amok.