I Found The Friendly Folks Are Not So Friendly

November 23, 2017

As always, we start out with the shout-outs.  The artist Impreint, who is the blogger behind IMPREINT journal, stopped by my blog, and gave it a like.  Since I like checking out bloggers who check me out, I dropped in on them and found some very interesting photographic art, and a link to their Facebook page with even more.  Check them out right here if you enjoy interesting visuals.

There is a Facebook page called The Villages Friendly Folks.  Like most social media groups I have stumbled across here in “Florida’s Friendliest Hometown“, it is populated by people who are obviously living vicariously through the Internet because they have no real life to speak of.

As with The Pine Hills Social Club, The Villages Friendly Folks is a place where some people go to brag about what they have got, some go to foist made-up lives upon people who have no idea what a pitiful existence they led wherever it was they originally came from, and some just show up asking questions that they can easily find the REAL answers to easier, elsewhere.

I got myself banned from The Villages Friendly Folks Facebook page for pointing out the fact that there is a better way to find real answers to community standard questions than to throw the questions out on social media, where a few dozen people will give you a few dozen different opinions, as opposed to real answers.  That might not be the best way to avoid running afoul of The Community Standards Department.

For crying out loud, these people obviously have an Internet connection if they are on Facebook.  What in the world is preventing them from going to the authoritative Community Development District’s Community Standards page where the REAL answer lies?

My guess is a combination of things:  boredom, loneliness, and some of the other things that come with moving away from family, friends, coworkers, and the neighbors they once knew.  Not everyone is mentally equipped for retirement, I suppose.

It’s a twisted life……….

 

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The Big Chicken And The Little Chicken

November 14, 2017

It came to pass that the wife and I decided to meander off to McAlister’s Deli to have a little lunch.  They have a mouth watering club sandwich that I was hankering for.

We took a two seat table by the window so as to watch the world go by, which usually happens at a very leisurely pace here in The Villages.  Wouldn’t you know it, we sat directly across the aisle from the big chicken, the little chicken, and their two hens.

If you have ever watched cartoons as a child, you will know what I am referring to.  The big chicken is a gregarious buffoon who talks so loud that the whole barnyard gets a whiff of his conversation.  It is designed to let everyone in earshot know how stately, cool, and adventurous the big chicken is.  The little chicken is a hanger-on who would not have a friend in the world if it was not for being the big chickens adoring yes man.

During the course of our lunch, the big chicken approached another table, the inhabitants of which he was obviously acquainted with, and regaled them with his weekend travel plans.  The folks who had their lunch interrupted were polite.  They allowed the big chicken his braggadocio.  They nodded in all of the proper places.  Then they shook their heads as the big chicken walked away.

All the while the little chicken sat patiently with the hens, running his fingers through his Just For Men dyed Dark Brown hair.  That stuff is soooo obvious.  Who else but the little chickens of the world would even consider using it?

It’s a twisted life……….

It Does Not Mean You Are Cool Just Because You Play Guitar

November 11, 2017

So I took my guitar and went over to the Paradise Recreation Center to look into the Acoustic Guitar Club.  According to their listing in The Villages Recreation & Parks section that gets inserted into the Thursday edition of The Villages Daily Sun each week, “It is open to those who play guitar, banjo, violin, harmonica, bass or any other string instrument”.  I guess I should have been skeptical when they alluded to fact that a harmonica might be a string instrument, huh?

It also states that “Members play various types of music, from traditional to contemporary”.  Yay! It sounds like there is a place for one and all, even a string harmonica player.

Into the room I went.  I said “Hi kids” at room-filling volume.  There were plenty of eyes on me, a couple of nods from the less countrified looking members, and an icy silence that was deafening.  Not a big deal I thought, let the music do the talking.

The leader of the pack, who I later found out was not the real leader, just a guy who took it upon himself to get the ball rolling, took a look in my direction and called out that “We gonna play Okie from Muskogee“.  And play it they did.  A few of the more redneck looking of the bunch kept glancing over to my corner, and I swear they started singing louder when they got to the part about “we don’t wear our hair long and shaggy, like the Hippies out in San Francisco do”.

Well, I do.  My hair, what is left of it, is long and shaggy.  I look like an old hippie.  It is my style.  It is not, however, my actual lifestyle, and as far as I am concerned it drew out the bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, of a cabal of redneck buffoons.  When they broke out into Foggy Mountain Breakdown, I picked up my guitar and walked out.

It’s a twisted life……….

Pushing It

November 9, 2017

Here is something my wife and I noticed as we were gallivanting to and fro over the last day or two. She put it into words far better than I would be capable of. Enjoy……….

Susan Marie Molloy

I am just old enough to remember when Christmas decorations in the stores went up the day after Thanksgiving, which was the same day Christmas carols started playing on the radio, and families in the old neighborhood put up their outside decorations, come mild or bitter cold breezes off Lake Michigan. In fact, it was a treat to go Downtown to see what Marshall Field’s window themes were for any given year, but you couldn’t do that until after Thanksgiving.

Slowly, decorations and the not-so-subtle hinting at great store bargains began creeping up before Thanksgiving, and so much so that well, nowadays you can stick your head into any one of several ginormous arts-crafts-sewing stores, and yes, The Decorations are up and serenaded by Eartha Kitt belting out “Santa Baby.” In July. Or – gasp! – June.

My Ma told me that when she was growing up, nobody put up…

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Who Are You?

November 6, 2017

Let us get the honorable mentions out of the way, shall we?  It appears that I have gained a new follower.  A poet, philosopher type.  He resides at Success Inspirer’s Blog.  Do yourself a favor and check it out.

Now, let us deal with the question:  Who are you?  There are more than a few anonymous people dropping in on my musings here.  I don’t publish to social media; I have given that up.  While there are people coming from search engines, WordPress can not seem to be able to tell me what the search terms were.  This keeps me wondering.  Are you getting here from Categories?  Tags?  Stalking me?  What?

Take That Shit Elsewhere

November 4, 2017

Look what you made me do you phony bitch, you made me drop a dime on you.

I am not prone to snitching.  In fact, it wrenches my guts if and when I am driven to do so.  I would much rather get the cathartic cleansing I get when I expose your disregard for your fellow travelers in my very little read blog, but Debra, you and Rocky have pushed me to do both.

Living in a deed restricted community means that you have to follow certain rules.  One of those rules is that if you are owned by a dog, that dog has to be on a leash when he or she appears in public.  The lady across the street chooses not to follow that rule.  You can see her sashaying her ass down the street, with her Chihuahua, Rocky, off leash, running helter-skelter, to and fro, wherever he damn well pleases.

Today, he decided to relieve himself on my front lawn, which in turn, turned my dogs, Toby and Trixie, into raging maniacs, barking like mad dogs because some interloper was desecrating their property.  I cannot say that I blame them.  I was pissed as well.

She picked it up alright, but the fact remains that if she followed the rules, her little mouse dog would have never been as deep over my property line as he was.

Yeah, I had a choice.  I could have gone out and confronted her, pointing out that I have noticed ever since I moved here that she ignores the leash rule, but that would have lead to the fact that I think that she, as a renter, should be extra special careful when it comes to the rules.  I could have pointed out that The Villages provides a dog park for those who want to allow their dogs to run free, off leash.  I even could have ignored it, just like I have been ever since we moved in.  None of those seemed appropriate today, so I dropped a dime to Community Standards.

The bottom line is that now feel like a snitch, a rat, a trick, and whatever other words fit a tattletale, but it seems better to feel like that than to get into a public confrontation with a bitchypoo.

It’s a twisted life……….

Snowbirds

October 29, 2017

There are back.  The Snowbirds are flocking back, and with them come all manner of discomfort.  The stores are more crowded, good parking is harder to find, and the waiting lists are forming at the restaurants.

The most dangerous drivers in all of the land have descended upon Florida’s Friendliest Hometown.  We have these things called round-a-bouts on three of our major streets that run north to south here, and these maniacs have no clue as to how to negotiate them.  Even thought there are signs telling you where to yield, and which lane to use to go where you need to go, the Snowbirds just barrel on through with no regard for anyone else.

Sure the businesses love them, and their money.  They are good for the local economy to be sure.  They more or less help subsidize the cost of living here, but personally I would not mind paying a little more to be here if only they were outlawed.

Let them just keep going.  They could invade South Florida.  Let them hang in Miami, or Naples, or Boca Raton, or The Keys even.  That was their tradition once upon a time; let them return to their natural habitat.  Like most birds, they are dirty, filthy creatures, and I don’t like them.  If they insist on staying warm and avoiding freezing temperatures, let them go to Hell.

Get Back To Where You Once Belonged

October 22, 2017

I do not get all of these old geezers riding around on bicycles in packs, all dressed up like they were competing in The Tour D’ France.  However, being a free country, I readily acknowledge the fact that they have every right in the world to wear whatever spins their pedals.

What I do have a problem with is this: There are miles and miles of what are called multi-modal paths here in The Villages.  They are put in for use by non-vehicular forms of transport.  It has been discussed, researched, opined upon, and well documented that this means walkers, skaters, Segway users, golf cart drivers, and bicyclists.  Why then do these Lance Armstrong wannabes feel the need to take their lives into their hands and ride their bikes in the street?

I will tell you why.  It is because they do not want to be hindered or obstructed by the other, perhaps slower, users of the multi-modal paths.

Well, you fools, just like you, I do not wish to be hindered by your stupid looking bicycle gang when I am trying to get from point A to point B whilst driving my car.  That plastic peach pit looking piece of crap you have perched up there on your head is not going to help you much if you get yourself mowed down by a motor vehicle.  You know, one of those things that has every right to be in the street which you actually have no right to.

You have your own special paths; I suggest you stick to them.  I hate seeing the crows picking on the squirrels, possums, deer, and whatever other roadkill happens to be laying about.  It would really put a damper on my day to see them tearing away at your carcass.

They Put A Hit Out On Mickey Mouse

October 21, 2017

Before we get to the quick of today’s topic, let me give a shout out to Doctor Parrot, a jokester who has seen fit to follow this here humble little blog.  If you need a little humor in your life, you can check him out right here.  Here is a tip; do not pass up the comments, they can be as entertaining as the jokes themselves.

OK, by now you know I live in The Villages, “Florida’s Friendliest Hometown”.  If you have followed the link, and paid attention, you know it is a deed restricted community for people over 55 years of age.  While there are a few exceptions, most of the adult children that live here are really 55 or older.  If you did not know that you are learning it now, right?

One of the deed restrictions has to do with how your front lawn should look.  The grass needs to be nice and neat, you should not let weeds take over, you should not make use of lawn ornaments, etc.

That being said, many folks have some really cool things incorporated into their landscape designs.  The developer landscapes the property to the bare minimum when your home is built.  You get a few shrubs in a couple of spots complete with pine straw mulch.  Everybody gets some sort of tree as well.  It seems that most people get Crepe Myrtles.  We got lucky and got a Bottle Brush Tree.  It is not very long before the majority of the homeowners call in the landscapers to get estimates on a design that gets rid of the pine straw, incorporates some tropical foliage, and adds some color other than green.

Deed restrictions or not, many, many homeowners have some type of doodads added in as well.  Some have metal heron sculptures, some have rainbow-colored whirligigs, some have leaping dolphins, and some just add benches or chairs.  The point is that whatever they are incorporating into their landscaping is a violation of the deed restrictions.  Since nobody drops a dime on them, the powers that be, The Community Standards Department, simply looks the other way.

A close neighbor of mine had a sort of new age thing going on, with rocks that had PEACE, LOVE, BLESSED, GARDEN, and other assorted words of enlightenment peppered in.  He also had Mickey and Minnie Mouse statuettes, and a cute little train with tracks running around the tree and shrubbery augmenting his landscape.

Then one day someone in the community went to what is called Newcomer Wednesday at The Community Development District.  That is where they lay out pertinent information about trash pick up, recycling, golf cart etiquette, all kinds of important stuff about how it works living here.  They found out about how one can go about reporting deed restriction violations.  They learned that all it takes is an anonymous phone call to Community Standards.  They posted this information on The Pine Hills Social Club Discussion Board.  A couple of days later Mickey, Minnie, and all of my neighbor’s other positive reinforcement, new age decorations vanished.

It seems they received a letter from Community Standards stating that their landscaping was in violation of the deed restrictions.  Some anonymous bastard put a hit out on Mickey Mouse, while all of the other assorted herons, egrets, and diving dolphins still stand unscathed.  It’s a twisted life……….

New Publication

October 19, 2017

Ladies and Gentlemen, it gives me great pleasure to introduce you to my wife, Susan Marie. She is far and away a much better artist than I can ever hope to be. I believe you will enjoy her work.

Susan Marie Molloy

The West Florida Literary Federation’s Emerald Coast Review XIX, “Life in Your Time,” is published and available through Amazon. This 19th issue is filled with stories, photographs, and poems gathered from literary talent from its members.  It’s good reading.

By the way, several of my poems and photographs are included in this publication, and the book’s cover is my submission that the West Florida Literary Federation chose to use for this edition.  I’m blushing.

You can find this publication HERE on Amazon.

Enjoy!

©2017 Susan Marie Molloy, and all works within.

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