I have a soft place in my heart for Florida and not just because my Mom lives there year round (and only that long because she can't figure out how to live there even longer). As a certified Four Season Feaster of the Northeast for far too many years, she's long since earned the right to toast and roast to her heart's desire.
Actually, the thoughts of her mapping out her day to include just the right amount of beach has helped me through the long, cold and snowy, but mainly really cold, winter we've been having in these parts.
After all, it was Florida almost a decade an a half ago that helped spark a Sixties Revival in at least half of the Brit-pop duo, Chad & Jeremy, that lasted longer than their hit, Summer Song. That long already-the years go by much too fast, don't they?
Actually, speaking of fast times and Florida, I fell across this story in (where else?) the New York Times and smiled because it rings true at so many levels and I have never ever been anywhere near Hampton, which I'm sure is beautiful.
I especially love (not intending to ruin it for you) the passage near the end of the story where one of the subjects protests that she is in no way 'some criminal mastermind.'
Ma'am, I think the point of the current state investigation has been an attempt to prove that assertion, at least the mastermind part. Talk about Raw Democracy, this is some singular stuff.
I'm sure we have cases across Connecticut that would remind someone from Florida a great deal of Hampton-I just realized, I think we have a Hampton, yep, but all I keep seeing is Barbara Bach in those Daisy Dukes (Ringo, you got some 'splaaining to do) as Boss Hogg schemes and dreams as only we can not just in Evening Shade, Arkansas but in bedrock Americana like Hampton.
-bill kenny
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