If only we owned Guy Fawkes masks

Next time we’re at a dinner party and someone throws out an inquiry about The Sponge Capitol of The World, we confidently can provide the answer.  Because in addition to working on our condo, we found time to do at least a little touristy stuff.  Like visit Tarpon Springs.

Incidentally, if the blog looks a bit different it’s because WordPress up and changed everything about creating a post.   Made it much more complicated.  Without bothering to ask our permission.

Cult fascination also took us—several times—past the Scientology motherplanetvoodooshipofmumbojumbo or whatever it’s called.

We didn’t go in.  Frankly we were kind of scared just looking at it, knowing that the bodies of Shelly Miscavige and everyone who ever has been friends with Shelly Miscavige probably are buried in a lime-filled pit beneath the marble floor.  Once when we were in Hemet, California, we drove past the so-called “Gold Base,”  our every move followed by a zillion obvious CCTV cameras.  These are weird and spooky places haunted by weird and spooky people.  (For a good time, Google “Tom Cruise Scientology videos” and watch some of them.)

Salvador Dali also was a weird dude.  Not Scientology-weird, of course.  More like bad-LSD-trip weird.   We went to the Dali Museum in St. Pete.

Wonder if Sal’s buddies teased him with Dalai Lama jokes when they sat around the old easels.  “Big hitter, the Lama.”  Probably not.

Before the girls arrived for the Holidays we were able to wrap up The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel season 2, which means another long wait.  Will Midge go on the tour?  Marry Ben?  Or take Joel back despite the whole Penny Pan thing?  Has Abe finally lost his mind?  We hate season-ending cliffhangers.

A couple more things.  First, we got to wait for the same bascule bridge on water and on land.  That’s a first.  When sitting in a car while the arms are up, it seems like trawler speed is even slower than it feels when actually traveling at trawler speed.

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Second, we got to watch our nephew Grant play in a soccer tournament.  He’s quite the stud.  While at the team hotel, Dana snuck up on a big awkward bird.  A four-foot tall Sandhill crane.  We later started seeing them all over the place.

Know what we don’t want to see all over the place?  Alligators.  Shannon first spotted this dude just off the parking lot where we were walking her alligator-snack-size brothers.

Of course, Shannon immediately pulled up news stories about dogs, kids, and alligators, none of which made us want to swim in small dark Florida ponds.

Mallory retrieved a few more light strands from our D.C. storage unit, so we finished up the decorations after she arrived.

Anyway, St. Petersburg is to the apostle Peter what St. Johnsville is to the apostle John.  Which really is meaningless.  So we’re ready to get moving again.  Tomorrow, Sarasota.

It’s great to have the entire family along, even if just for a couple of weeks.

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