It’s about noon on Friday and I’m finally home. I’ve been snowed in before but this I think is the first time that I’ve ever been snowed “out”. God doesn’t care if I’m over the snow and ready for navigable roads and a normal winter life again. This was evidenced earlier this week by our insult to injury load of snow that arrived.
Jacksonville Florida is the headquarters for one of my clients and I was due to be there for a one day session on Thursday. If I can get them off of touting unit price as a differentiator-I’ll earn my fee. I knew if I didn’t get out of DC before noon on Tuesday, that I wouldn’t make it to Jax. My ever so accommodating client moved my slot to Wednesday and I rolled out on Tuesday morning.
Tuesday morning at guess which airport? Can’t play that game anymore for my departure location since it’s always one of two airports. Hint-it ain’t Orly.
A buddy that I ran into at the airport asked me if I lost a bet when having to don my half price mustard yellow cords from London. I told him that I got ‘em for half off the sticker and he said that I was still robbed.
Forty plus degree weather in Jax makes for a bit of a sportcoat dilemma but not an insurmountable one.
This cheviot hacking jacket was perfecto. Reasonably light but with a bullet proof rock hard finish-like me. What kind of idiot makes a hacking jacket with a ticket pocket flap and no flaps on the other pockets? Shut up.
And yes-the little fish lips on the Flusser socks match the trousers. I planned it. For days. And days and days and days and days.
Finished off with a dollop of silk gifted to me by a stunner. Trust me on this.
I'm a pushover for little babies-it reminds me of the sweetness of LFG when she was an infant. She was a great one and this little fella didn't cry one bit on the way down to Jax-all the better no?
Not the best angle to capture mama's butt and maybe not the most flattering jeans. However, I was impressed by how nicely configured "things" were considering how recently she gifted the world with her little man. She was well on the way to once again having a nice .....you know what.
Now I’m just gonna ask forgiveness for this next comment and photo in advance. This is SO wrong-I admit it but it just cracked me up. Sorry ladies but it’s usually your bathroom that has a line. I deplane in Jax and swing by the men’s room-I’m not in a panic so it’s all good. But there’s a line and it ain’t seeming to disperse. These guys were taking forever! It looked like the back view of a starting gate at the Preakness-butcept the race wouldn’t start. Word out to these guys-there’s medicine now that you can take to speed this thang up.
I won’t bore you with the details but suffice it to say that I’m a seasoned enough traveler to work all of the angles regarding flight bookings-delays-sweet talking on to an overbooked flight…you know…all the stuff that road warriors get good at over time. The snowflake fantasia that defines the DC area had me heeding the wisdom of Musashi. “There are walled cities that aren't meant to be attacked”. The Southern Cracker parlance for Musashi’s wisdom contextually was “sit your ass in this Hilton Garden Inn till the nine gazillion cancelled flights and the neurotically spastic travelers impacted thereby sort themselves out a bit. That meant a seven thirty am departure from Jax to DCA and an arrival to home turf that is anything but showing turf-this place remains surrealistic.
I think Jacksonville has evolved a fair amount but it isn’t exactly a cultural oasis and my internet connection was almost nil where I was holed up. I had plenty of work to do but was hamstringed a bit by poor connectivity and by the simple fact that I was stuck in a Hilton Garden Inn.
Early to Jacksonville by one day, I took a little drive down to St. Augustine. Strolled through the little hamlet in the misty rain but was glad to be a more moderate climate-mist and all.
This is the kind of Park Ranger at the Castillo who would turn your ass in for illegal parking. Oy. (Used without Tintang's permission)
After thumbing through dust laden volumes in a superb old book shop, I was about to head back north to Jacksonville when I spotted this joint-A die cast toy car shop. A what? Yes-a die cast toy car shop. If I can muster any reservoir of testosterone-vintage cars reckon it for me. Now hundred year old toy soldiers are one thing. There’s enough nerd nuance in that collecting category but people who spend mucho bucks on this stuff are weirder. Let me go on the record and say that I don’t collect this stuff per se but LFG and I do have model cars that we’ve built and I am a sucker for the childhood memories and first cars owned recollections that a place like this manifests.
Here's a Triumph GT-6 ...my second car...same color. This die cast baby was about sixty bucks. I left it there.
Remember The Forty Year Old Virgin and his “mint-in the box” collection of action figures? As I walked out of this place I felt kind of like the “forty something year old ho”. Shut up.
This place was a car guy’s nirvana and I had more fun that imaginable spending fifty bucks in there. I got two cars for me and two for LFG and yes, she’ll get something for Valentines other than these little cars. Will she get a kick out of them? You bet.
Especially this little Messerschmitt three wheeled baby. How could I pass on this one? Funny what the Germans came up with when they were no longer allowed to build implements of war. A Porsche pulling a Caravan? No!
I settled on a Triumph TR-4 Rally car and a Ferrari. Shut up.
So after my consulting day I remained sequestered at the HGI and the only thing I could come up with to break the monotony was to swing by Steinmart and the Brooks Brothers Outlet.
Yes I realize the degree of my bias but I think the Spring 2010 Flusser stuff at Steinmart is pretty tasty looking. No, I didn't buy any of it.
But come on-this looks better than anything offered by Dockers...no?
And you won't believe what they had for $5.99 at the Brethren Outlet? Horizontal striped socks. I've been wanting to try a pair for the longest damn time. Shut up.
These mustard yellow babies were even more garish when I viewed them for the first time in a bit of sunlight. Whew.
After fine microwave dining in my room and reveling in a six hour marathon of Dirty Jobs re-runs I called it a night and got ready to attempt the sojourn home this morning. I'm living a dream. LFG so loved Dirty Jobs when it first premiered that my mother gave her a boxed set of the show one Christmas. If I have anything-it's an interesting-eclectic child. Wonder where she got that? Quiet please.
I was out of clean clothes and so eager to try for the first time-a pair of these horizontiles that I throwed them on with these dirty mustard britches for the ride home.
The Barbour restoration project is in the queue for the weekend. We'll see how LFG does with it.
Onward. Waxing and Waning...ADG