There it was a tiny ball of paper against a tremendous biohazard.
Oh I wasn’t out out, as Gigi and I say, just out on the dispenser. In fact all I needed to do was lean over, grab a roll off a cabinet and reload. But then I’m stuck with an inaccurate load.
First I have the little wad at the end of the roll in my hand and now I try balance the wad with the new roll.
But to add to the pressure is Gigi’s insistence that I put the roll on a certain way. We use white paper so it doesn’t matter to me but it does to her. I can’t ever remember if she like the roll to flow over the top or out from the bottom.
An angler should be a specialized area of study in geometry.
2)I get miffed when I click on a web link and it says it’s under construction. No it’s not. Write some damn content, the page has been built and formatted. You my dear friend were too lazy to finish writing the content. Under construction my big ass.
3)I ate a steak last night and I feel like a python that ate a pig. I rarely eat red meat. It was delicious but goodness Wreg, when can we expect to digest this meal? Are we getting too old for a steak?
4)Our waste service just started recycling. They raised our prices, gave me a tiny plastic bin, and expect me to sort and wash my garbage.
God knows I love the planet, animals, women and children but I loath washing and sorting my garbage. Its garbage, bury it and cover it with dirt and build a municipal golf course over it. Don’t make me wash it and pick through it.
What the hell are they going to do with Little Friskies cat food cans and beer bottles?
I am sticking with a beach theme for now of Shore Patrol.
As I understand it, the Shore Patrol (pictured below) was a group of unregulated Navy men and MP’s that operated mainly in US Navy ports to pick up drunk sailors during WW II. They were armed only with night sticks and made sure sailors were back on the ship before curfew.
I had this decal made (top picture) and applied it on Saturday along with an STX (St Croix) dive sticker. I think it looks quite official. Gigi was afraid I would get stopped impersonating a military officer.
Cedie and I went for a Sunday ride looking for some shores to patrol. We mostly saw pond shores, and got a lot of waves from Jeep fans.
This other picture (left) is of Michaels Jeep in St Croix. Michael is a bartender at the Deep End Bar and not my friend Michael that I refer to frequently.
He has decorated his Jeep with countless do-dads glued to his dash board and instrument panel. He said people leave stuff on his seat now to add to the collection.
My Internet social network that has sustained me for two years is drying up. I understand people are busy, new mommies, new daddies, bored with their life, etc. It just seems like my circle of blogs that I read are fading off into the sunset like an unfinished book. Not that I read books. It takes a lot of trial and error to find new blogs to read.
Any week now I expect it to be spring like. I have been teased with 4 or five days in the 60’s. I am actually seeing some spring business going on. The trees are budding, some azaleas are starting to show, and the always early daffodils are out. We call daffodils buttercups but northerners make fun of us for this.
I have found a way to convert a shitty, useless gift from a place you rarely shop, to a portable and useful gift, personalized just for you.
“Oh wise Wreggie, how do you do this?” you might ask.
Let’s say my nephew gives me an Old Spice Gift pack for Christmas. You know with cheap after shave, soap on a rope, etc.
Rather than just let it sit in the closet waiting to be thrown out, I now take it to Wal-Mart and get money back as a gift card since I don’t have the receipt.
Now, rather than have a useless box of man soap, I now have a useless Wal-Mart gift card in my wallet worth $12.99.
But wait. Walk over to most any end cap and pick up an iTunes card and pay for it with your newly acquired gift card. You may have to round up to the next denomination.
Now you have tunes you will own and enjoy for life. I manage to keep a credit going at the iTunes store using this method.
I am familiar with Southport since we have visited the several dozen times. I am getting frustrated however trying to do some research on the Internet. Most of the web sites are poorly done and are outdated.
I did contact the dock master about visiting Bald Head Island just off shore. I emailed him about protocol and fees. The last time we asked permission to dock at Bald Head I was in a boat that had a marine radio.
Most of the dock masters I have encountered are angry assholes; especially the dock master down at Jekyll Island.
Bald Head is a beautiful place. Cars are not allowed, only electric carts. The light house Old Baldy resides there. I need to climb it one more time before I am too old to do it or don’t give a crap about doing it.
What I need to find down there is a local friend that has similar interests and can tell me the best places to find dolphins, where to join a turtle watch club, the best places to eat, best place to watch a sunset, best place to go crabbing, best watering holes, best special events/entertainment, etc.
Southport and the general area is billed as a “family place” which is a code word for boring. Simply put, if it goes beyond fried flounder, ice tea, and hushpuppies you are considered a lush.
Let’s see, here is the calendar of events for yesterday:
Kickboxing 9:30 am - 10:30 am
Teen Kickboxing 11:00 am - 12:00 pm
Table Tennis Club 2:00 pm - 4:00 pm
Alcoholics Anonymous OI Camel 24 Club 8:00 pm
I suck at ping pong and can’t see me kick boxing.
In a year I have completely rebuilt the interior, new seats, sprayed the metal with Rhino Liner, new radio and speakers, new convertible top hardware, various do-dads, lifted the Jeep 2 inches, new wheels, new tires, had the paint polished, tune up, chromed the grill and added various shiny parts and exterior mirrors and lights.
And oh have we bonded, that Jeep and I. I love driving that loud rattletrap. I guess it’s a middle age thing. It makes me feel carefree when I drive. It puts me back outdoors.
This year I have two exterior mirrors that I can attach to the door hinges that will allow me to be legal when I take the doors off. I also bought a bikini see thru top that will help a bit when it is very sunny and hot.
I also have bought another super fun accessory that will fit nicely on the roof rack. Last night I ordered a 10 foot Porta-Bote and a 5 HP outboard motor.
This little boat collapses to the size of a surf board and can be stored on my Jeep’s roof rack. I plan to make a wooden front or rear bumper to attach the outboard motor for transport.
I would never have believed this boat would work unless I had seen Michael and Terry’s in action down in
Now I wait for delivery and day dream about running around the backwaters, waterways and island hopping the various places we visit in our RV during the summer.
Ever since I went out on the now famous Origami to Buck Island Adventure of 07, I have had boat lust in my heart.
Nothing fancy, just a little boat with a capable outboard motor that I could use to ride around in the intercoastal waterway and maybe take it to Jekyll Island to explore the tidal creeks.
When I was a child my father had a boat like I want. It was a 14 foot bare hull fiberglass boat with a 5HP Johnson Seahorse motor. I can still smell the exhaust in my mind.
We had many hours of fun with this boat in the back waters of
Last night I dreamed we still had the boat and that my father and mother decided to give me the boat since it was in storage.
I then realized I was talking to my father who has been dead more than 25 years. I could barely keep my composure at seeing him.
I have this stupid dream rule that I cannot bring up the fact that a dead person is dead in a dream, or they will go away. So I had to act cool around my dad so he wouldn’t know I knew he was dead, and he could then stick around and chat.
Anyway, I got the boat and spent time with my dad. It was a good dream.
I have women friends in real life, blogger women friends in Internet life, heck I like women so much I married one.
Women are very different than us men though and that throws me off, but sets a challenge.
The International Space Station reminds me of a woman. It is beautiful, complicated, and I am not sure to this day how all the stuff works or what it does, but I like what I see.
Friday, I took advantage of some fantastic weather to play golf with my friend Thomas. Later our wives joined us for supper.
During the meal Thomas mentioned that he was going to the
I am not a gambler; it just doesn’t do anything for me. But I love the coast of
The ride down is not direct. Even today you have to wind through rural settings and tiny one stop light towns. It took about three hour and 20 minutes and we arrived at the marina.
What they have here are floating casinos, really. It is illegal to have casinos in NC and SC, except for one in the Indian reservation in the NC Mountains. There are no dealers there in the mountains, only machines, no booze, and it is a long way from anywhere.
We bought our $10 ticket and watch what looked like Noah’s Arc load with rednecks and low country blacks.
When the cigarette stained boat was finally, loaded we slowly started down the chocolate colored waters of the intercostal waterway and little river. Soon we were in the ocean and 30 minutes later we were in international waters. The gambling began.
I mainly watched the tables, and some basketball in the sports book area. There were slot machines whirling everywhere and loud shouting at the craps table. I threw away 40 bucks in the slots while Thomas played craps.
Three hours later it all stopped when we entered US waters. Everyone laid down their cigarettes and headed to this cheesy buffet upstairs with some blanched looking chicken and an unimaginative salad with bread. A one man band played on stage some very bad lounge music.
When everyone finished the meal they all fired up another cigarette. Hundreds of cigarettes. The inside of the boat was stained yellow from the smoke.
Back on shore we dined on Hooters wings and quesadillas and beer while we watch games on TV.
A cheap hotel, some rest, and I am back home today having had a good man time and lots of laughs.
I was plagued with wardrobe, accessory, and flipper malfunctions last week.
First, my favorite sunglasses must have slipped on and off my big old head a few times too many. Mid week the right side of my sunglasses just broke in two exposing two big puffy blood shot eyes for the world to see.
Liv had warned me back in the summer that a good pair of sunglass would hide a multitude of sins and she was right.
Loosing my sunglasses was the equivalent to pulling the mask off of Darth Vader. I quickly ran out to the dive shop for a new pair.
Yesterday I took the broken sunglasses back to West Marine here in
Even worse last week was downright flipper failure while I was 1/3 mile from shore.
I was headed offshore from the Sunset Grill just paddling along looking at the bottom. I typically use only my legs to glide this chiseled body through the water.
Michael had warned me several times that I should incorporate my upper body when swimming. I figured if it ain’t broke don’t fix it.
Well it broke.
Within 2 minutes both of my flippers tore away from my feet and I was left 1/3 of a mile off shore with regular human feet and hands to swim in to safety.
I got back okay but I was very tired from the exertion.
Again, off the dive shop for new flippers.
That bothers me, not the gay thing but the use of the word, believe. How can you not believe in something that is real?
He should use the term, I don’t like gay marriages, they disgust me, whatever, but the fact remains that gay people are getting married in some states and there is nothing to believe.
I don’t believe in Santa Claus is real, but I don’t believe in getting up early is just a joke, there is nothing to believe.
Speaking of real I’ll address another peeve.
I once saw a plastic fish swimming in a bowl at the checkout counter of some little rural diner.
A child asked me if that fish was real. I answered “yes”, but it’s not living, it’s mechanical. Of course it is real, you are looking at it.
I read as many blogs written by women as I do men. In fact, the female bloogers I read outnumber the male bloggers.
I seldom comment on many blogs I read because while I enjoy the read, their life style and blog content is so different from my life that my only comment would be that, “I am here and reading your blog.”
But what gets me about female blogs is how they can go from straight forward rational thoughts, and then suddenly belt out a post of pure unfiltered girl talk. Suddenly it’s like they are speaking a foreign language.
To further complicate the issue I then witness countless female comments that understood every nuance of what gobbledy goop they just wrote. WTF?
“Oh girlfriend, I am so sorry. Things will get better. Bla, bla, bla.” I have no ideas about what they just wrote and yet all these other women did.
What would be fantastic is if Google or someone offered a universal translator for blogs. It could translate language and gender.
The gender part would be the most important. I understand English but not always female English.
Heck, a gender translator would be helpful around the house too.
Suppose Gigi tells me something that makes no sense what so ever but I detect that it should make sense. Rather than scoffing it off and starting an unsuspecting argument, I could excuse myself in a caring and concerned way, type in her words to the gender translator, and come back with a suggested comforting answer.
Google, please give this some thought.
And shrunk my britches, just a bit.
Two days ago I was carefree and riding in a Jeep,
Now I face my desk with papers, piled in a heap.
Oh I miss the sun, the flowers, and friends,
But I need to stay here a while though, and let my innards cleanse.
The fun we had riding in the back of the truck, the entire crew,
Roaming the hills together and looking at the ocean, all Tidy Bowl blue.
It is so necessary for my memories to abate,
It is now that I so desperately need so much to concentrate.
Island I love, I will see you again soon,
It is not my intent to visit, once in a blue moon.
How do you deal with a restaurant bill in a large group?
My dear alba mata Appalachian State University opens with the defending National Champions LSU.
As you recall…
On the deck of the villa.
Sit down shut up! On the boardwalk in Christiansted. I watched the opening NFL game of the season back in September at that little bar in the background.
Judy and I at the web cam bench.
Lettering the boat "Origami".
We made it back safely home last night. There was a grand reunion with the dogs and the customary “peeing on the deck in excitement” by Haley.
Normally I have some quiet time in the morning in which I collect my thoughts to share on my blog and have time to read my favorite blogs. I didn’t have this quiet time luxury down on the last trip to the island since we were sharing a house with 4 other couples. So I decided to forgo blogging until I got back home.
This group we traveled with was one of the most compatible groups ever. We had fun and mutual respect for each other. I met some new friends and got reacquainted with some old friends.
I also found a new word that I love to say and rarely use. The term viscosity came up more than once when discussing blending biodiesel with Michael.
Michael and Terry were the perfect hosts for many events. Michael made sure that we were all well hydrated with local spirits on many occasions. They carved time from their workweek to show us why they love the island so much.
We got to see the improvements Michael and Terry have made to their home. In many ways their home reminds me of an island version of my house. There is a lot of love there and fuzzy dog and cat faces like my home. And damn it, Michael’s deck is now bigger than mine.
I admire Terry’s attitude for living. I learn more about her on each visit.
It is good to be home. I slept so good in my bed last night and my coffee with my sweet and low and canned milk is nirvana to me. I can’t do real sugar and half and half and not consider that roughing it.
Today I will rest, unpack and buy some groceries.
Last night we all met at the wine club and sampled fantastic food and wine. Then we headed to another beachside restaurant for a friendly dinner.
Michael and Terry are so hospitable. Everywhere we go Michael has this mobile bar set up. They know lots of fun people and lots of fun things to do. I think I am wearing out my guests with all the activities.
Today we headed to the west end of the island and plopped out on the beach at the Sunset Grill. Michael brought his bar and we brought ours.
We then began to swim, lie out, and boat in M and T’s kayak.
We ate a leisurely lunch at the open café, and cracked open some coconuts to mix drinks.
Tonight we are headed to my favorite place in the hemisphere, Restaurant Bacchus. It’s two for one wine night and Gigi will be driving us home.
Okay, okay…I’ve been busy.
We were late at the casino last night and then I had this appointment on the beach this morning. Yes, it was a massage appointment.
The water has been so choppy that it is impossible to snorkel. I know, a hardship but we will endure.
Good times on The Roseway.
There has been a Reggie Webcam sighting already this year.And now the video....
Last night was a blur, no really.
We got into town just before sunset and were met by Michael and Terry at the airport. They kindly open a curbside bar for us.
We headed to the villa and we all celebrated our new home and the warm weather.
It’s funny; the locals down here are all wrapped up in long pants and jackets. With the wind chill it may have hit the low 70’s last night. I call it warm.
Much, much more is to follow. But for now enjoy this video from just outside my bedroom.
Tomorrow morning I’ll be flying out of
One thing I like about flying to a small tropical airport is you get to disembark on the tarmac. No impersonal jet way tunnels, they push up a big old set of stairs to the plane. You have to wait too if another plane is using the one set of stairs.
As I walk out I then can pretend that I, President Hunnicutt and First Lady Gigi are standing at the top of the stairs waving at the adoring crowd gathered. Military guards stand at attention at the bottom of the stairs.
Upon descending the stairs I mentally become Pope Wreggie and fight the urge to actually kneel down and kiss the ground.
Then I become regular ol’ Reggie and follow the little stocky black woman to the luggage area.
It is so exciting to drive on the left hand side of the road. It’s kind of like walking around your backyard naked. It is fun and exhilarating but feels weird.For those who want to watch may vacation along with me you might go to The Harbor Cam. I will definitely be there hanging out and calling back home. Plus I'll upload a few videos and lots of pictures.
Send your phone number via email and I'll call you from the cam.