Take this simple test and feel REALLY stupid…

http://www.humorsphere.com/fun/8787/colortest.swf

In my daily reading of blogs I enjoy I came across a post by Lee Zeltzer describing his battle with La Aduana, Panamanian Customs in order to drive his car from Panama to Costa Rica to attend a seminar.

In France, where I was captain of a foreign- (U.S.) flagged sailboat we had “La Douane.” Pronounced like the Spanish word but without the beginning and ending “A”s. I’ll never forget the first of many trips to La Douane.

I had been sent to Antibes, France, on the Riviera, back in 1989 to take over for a French captain whose sole purpose, it seemed, was to live aboard and cash the owner’s checks while doing as little as possible in return. In France all foreign-flagged vessels are issued something similar to their “carte de séjour” for individuals allowing them to be in the country, and it needed to be renewed from time to time. It was a piece of paper work largely overlooked by most boats in the country that literally invented the phrase “bureaucracy.”

I knew that our “séjour” had lapsed prior to my arrival but I did nothing to remedy the situation. About a year into my three-year stay I read, in a newspaper for the boating world, that a large yacht in nearby Villefranche had been hit with a six-figure (US) fine for not having that cherished piece of paper. I decided it was time for me to correct the error and took the boat’s papers off to La Douane.

I was shown into the office of the person who soon came to be known as “The Douane Lady.” There, behind a precarious mountain of paperwork threatening to avalanche and engulf the office’s resident sat a woman who can only be described as the inspiration for Jabba the Hut. When I started to speak in French she dismissively waved her hand, as the French are want to do, and told me to speak in English.

I explained that I was the newly arrived captain of a large sailboat and in going through the ship’s papers discovered that our séjour had lapsed and I wanted to correct the error.

“What’s the name of the boat?” she asked.

“Jolie Aire,” I said.

“Hmmmmmmmm,” she rumbled from deep inside her cavernous enormity. “Jolie Aire… Jolie Aire… Hmmmmmmmmmm.”

Then, after several moments of inert and contemplative deliberation, she raised her hand and with two fingers, each the size of a Polish sausage, delicately plucked a single sheet of paper from the pile.

“Ahhh, here it is,” she said.

I was stunned at this display only having seen something like it in a W. C. Fields movie once. But this was happening in real time before my eyes.

In another few minutes everything was ship shape again, and without penalty, to my relief, and I was on my way back to the boat.

I had to make several other visits to her office before we left the country to move the boat to Spain prior to our crossing of the big pond. She turned out to be very efficient and helpful each time, but one thing I knew for certain after our initial meeting…don’t EVER try and pull anything over on the “Douane Lady.”

Here’s a fun way to pass a few minutes…

http://www.paulsadowski.com/birthday.asp

Sixteen years ago I wanted to have a dog again. I’d go to the shelter a couple of times a week to see what choices there were. At the time I was living on a 26 foot-long sailboat and was looking for a small dog…small boat, little space = small dog. I also wanted an older dog. They don’t demand the same attention as a young pup. Scratch their belly once in a while to get their hind leg working and they’re happy for the day.

There was one dog that attracted me the instant I saw her, but she was at least five times the size I wanted and she was only a year or two old. When she first saw me at the gate of her cage she immediately came over and nibbled on my fingers when I stuck them through the fencing. She was there week after week that dragged into months. I couldn’t figure out why. Then, one day when I went to check on the new stock there was a sign on her cage saying, “Channel 10 Pet of the Week.” Now, shelters say they don’t euthanize the animals, but they don’t keep them forever, and when I saw the sign I knew it was a last-ditch attempt to get her adopted out. I immediately went to the front desk and claimed Penny.

Everyone who sees Penny think she’s a great looking dog, and she is.

I absolutely believe the reason no one adopted this “great looking dog” is that she was supposed to be MY dog.

She’s 17 or 18 years old now. Arthritis has set in with a vengeance. Three or four times a week I have to lift her hind end into the air so she can get her feet beneath her. From time to time she has bouts of incontinence. But every afternoon around 3 or 4, she wants, no demands, on going for her walk.

We don’t go very far. She only has one speed and though the spirit is willing the endurance is no longer there. It takes us about a half hour to simply make it around the block. Recently I’ve been taking my camera with me. Here in south Florida flowers bloom throughout the year. This is what I see on my walks with Penny.

The recent cold snap colored a lot of leaves

A Gumbo Limbo Tree

Dirty Gumbo Limbo Tree

Staghorn Ferns

Working Lunch

That’s All Folks

THROW ME SOMETHING, MISTER!

For eight of the ten years I lived in New Orleans my home was no more than four blocks off the St. Charles Avenue parade route. It was a lot less claustrophobic than being trapped in the crowds on Bourbon Street and there are no floats in the Quarter. Up where I lived it was all families…DRUNK families, but families never the less,   PLUS when I needed to whiz I was close to a private toilet.

After you’ve been to a Mardi Gras Parade anything else is just a bunch of people walking down the street, and that includes the Rose Bowl Parade and Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade, too. They don’t throw you stuff! On my last St. Charles Avenue Parade I went to the first evening parade of the season in ’84. Just as I got down to the street the Budweiser Clydesdale’s came by. One of the men on the cart threw a huge handful of doubloons into the air. I remember those magic coins sparkling in the street lights. I reached up and managed to snatch one out of the air. It was the ONLY thing I caught all that Mardi Gras season

For several reasons I will be off line for the next week or so.

SAINTS WIN!!!

SAINTS WIN!!!

SAINTS WIN!!!