CHASING CHILDREN

I teach art in a West Kendall elementary school. I often walk past a playground where young kids seem focused on screaming and chasing each other.
Having a few minutes to spare last week I entered the fenced-in area to visit. After the first rush of kids high-fived me a 5-year-old boy smiled and said, "Bet you can't catch me!".
Although I'll be turning 64 next week I thought, "Heck, he's barely three feet tall. I bet I could."

I often think I can do what I once did. For twenty years I played touch football with friends. It was the most fun I have ever had playing sports. It ebbed to a stop in my twenties when my football buddies moved away.
Since then, every time I see young men playing the game I have the urge to join them.

Fifteen years ago I was working in a North Dade middle school. When our eighth graders began playing football at a school picnic they let me join in. It was great to be fifteen again but on the third play something popped in my leg and I was on the injured list.
Three days later, good as new, I waited for the next game that never came. Most guys my age barely move but if they do, it's to play golf, tennis, or walk. Running out for a pass yelling, "Hit me!", is not on the menu.

But last week, I answered the boy in the playground with, "I bet I can!".
He smiled, ran off, and I followed.

There I was chasing this kid amongst a gaggle of other five-year-olds. He seemed very fast for his age and the lad could turn on a dime.
The supervising teacher (let's call her "Gail") must have thought I'd gone nuts. My mind told me I could easily catch the little rabbit but my body was not agreeing. As he darted and laughed Gail called out , "Mr. Terry!".

I ambled over to her totally winded and was advised, "Workman's compensation won't cover you when you fall. Playing is not part of our job". I thought about it for a moment, thanked her, and resumed the chase.

With one last burst of old man's speed I reached out and made the tag. The boy laughed and ran off to chase someone else.

It was bewildering that catching a kid could be so hard. No wonder some are kept on leashes. Still, I was proud of my accomplishment.
As I left the play area a fourth grader who had been watching said, "Congratulations Mr. T. Those five-year-olds are awfully fast".
I had to agree.

ROLLING THROUGH THE EVERGLADES

On Saturday, February 5, King Mango took us on a tour of the Everglades.

Entertainment was provided by Little Ella on the didgeridoo.





Heading west on the Tamiami Trail we stopped to enjoy the Clyde Butcher Gallery.

Across the street a man and an alligator were trying to catch fish.

Everglades City was having its
annual seafood festival.
You could watch young children
getting knocked off a spinning, bouncing shark, but what we really liked was







the seafood.


There were tons of it as well as the resulting







garbage. It was everywhere.

Even though the bins were full, people kept placing their plates on top knowing they would tumble to the ground. Finally folks just began tossing their leftovers on the ground near the cans.




It happens every year. Its an Everglades City tradition.







It didn't take long tire of garbage piled too high and the music playing too loud.

We jumped on our bus and
headed south. We didn't stop until the road ended on Chocoluskee Island.





In the distance was an old, elevated building.

Its where Ted Smallwood sold everything anyone might have needed a hundred years ago.

They say it hasn't changed much.

I noticed that the machine I used to buy nickel Cokes from now sells them $1.50. It took young Quin a while to figure out how to use the bottle opener.

Ted's great-grandson showed us the elixirs used in days gone by. One from 1910 touted the benefits of cocaine ( one of the original ingredients of Coco-cola when a bottle cost two cents a hundred years ago).

Ted died a long time ago but a pretty good facsimile of him still holds court and, a flyswatter.

After telling Mr. Smallwood goodbye we headed home to Coconut Grove where we unloaded our ice chests, bicycles,
and tired bodies. Before he drove off we heard the king say,





"What fun we had in aces and spades.
Let's go back soon to the Everglades!"

A NEW HOME FOR KING MANGO

King Mango got a new home on Sunday,

(1/30/11)

when he and his friends marched through the streets of South Miami.

Almost a hundred happy souls in twelve units strutted their stuff on Sunset Drive.

The King Mango Strut parade's original group from 1982, the Mango Marching Band, was there, sponsored by Shell Lumber.

They played buckets, kazoos, and didgeridoos.

They serenaded Little Miss Mango and her court.

The Miami Heat's new superstar, LeBron James, could not attend so he sent his cousin, DJ Kool.

South Miami's new red light camera gave out over 400 tickets to people who had run lights on their way to the parade.

Frowns turned to grins when violators discovered their citations were good for half-priced beer at the Sunset Tavern.

BP's Next Oil Slick oozed its way down the road. The kids swimming in it seemed to be having a delightful time.

The Green Man stopped to give advice to one of his young admirers.

Then, he spotted,

The Redwing Blackbird of the Apocalypse!

The big bird should have known better than to tangle with the Green Man.

He told the winged warrior, "Hit the road or I'll bean you with this mango!"

The Messenger of Doom knew better than to argue with a 16-year-old dressed in lime green spandex. He let out one more "Caw!" then took to the sky.

(I thank my sons, Ian and Dylan, for doing this in Sunday's show).

While others watched the altercation

Josh and Michelle Billig reminded us that bananas have feeling too.

At the end of the parade the young Rose Cope confessed,

What a prankster that Rose.

The true Strut lives on as living theater in the streets.

It was a spontaneous combustion of fun.

-Pierre Blanchet, Gainesville

This was a great idea.

Something different! I thought it was grand. I like a freak show. -Mississippi John

-Lucy Boszko, Perrine

I thought it distracted from the VW show. I liked the element of spontinaity, like

-Hershel Burden guerilla theater. - Deborah Starbuck

WEST OF KEY WEST

We were standing where a man named Mudd had been locked up for life, imprisoned for treating the broken leg of John Wilkes Booth. The doctor was Fort Jefferson's most famous resident when it was built and occupied in the mid-1800's. It is a part of a group of islands 70 miles west of Key West,

"The Dry Tortugas".

My wife and I were there last Saturday to help celebrate the 75th anniversary of Dry Tortugas National Park. Our tour was arranged by the director of the South Florida National Park Trust, Don Finefrock. The organization supports South Florida's four national parks.

Don is a neighbor of ours.

Arriving by boat, we were greeted by the park's superintendent, Dan Kimball. He and his wife, artist Kit Kimball, live on Grove Isle.

After he introduced us to the park the rangers led tours where we learned about,

the fort's history,

the islands nearby,

creatures of the sea,

the sky,

and the 50,000 pound cannon that had just been refurbished.

We were told it could place a 400 pound exploding cannonball on a ship three miles away. Despite its amazing firepower, Francesca agreed to pose for this picture.

Fort Jefferson was built to protect us from anyone invading the Gulf of Mexico. It is composed of sixteen million bricks artfully arranged to house soldiers and 400 cannons.

Every day a few tired worn bricks fall into the sea.

On one tour we watched craftsmen mortaring the missing parts back into place.

A dozen or so people call the fort home. Seventy miles separate them from everyone else. Some say they like it that way. This ranger, holding a jar filled with lionfish, says she has the perfect job.

A day earlier we had seen a sign at a Key West Marina that said, "Eat more lionfish! There is no catch limit in this invading species, they are killing all the fish, and they taste great!"

As the last tour ended,

we wound our way down

and headed

home.

DOLPHIN ACTIVIST HONORED

South Miami's 74 Street got a new name Saturday, "Ric O'Barry Drive". The City honored its resident, Ric O'Barry, for his forty years as a dolphin activist. He was Flipper's trainer in his early years and starred in a major motion picture , "The Cove". Ric's movie won an Academy Award for "Best Documentary" in 2010. The film is about the senseless slaughter of dolphins in

Japan. If you haven't seen it, do.

I should point out that Ric also has the dubious honor of being "The Token Celebrity" in the first King Mango Strut, 29 years ago, for his underwater stunt work in "Thunderball".

Ric is a humble, hard-working man whom I've known for years. After living in the Grove for decades he headed to the city two miles south which he says, "is great, like Coconut Grove used to be".

Here he is with his son Lincoln, producer of television's Blood Dolphin series (on Animal Planet).

Like his ever-travelling dad, he is heading to Java next week to film the plight of more captive dolphins. That's Lincoln's mother, the beautiful Martha Kent between them. She is a botanist at Fairchild Gardens.

South Miami City Commissioner Walter Harris ended Saturday's ceremony saying, "Ric has spent the last forty years fighting for dolphins surrounded by people who hate him (the people who capture dolphins).

He could have stayed at home with the people who love him. Today Ric, you are home.

We honor you, and, we love you."

IN THE SPIRIT OF JIMMY

Sure, Elvis turned 76 last week but the big news was Luis Hernandez's 60th birthday.

In a unique twist he invited all of his friends to join him to refurbish a local a day care center.

A party it was. Saturday morning fifty of his friends gathered at Kidco Child Care Center in Miami's Allapatah neighborhood. It's been there since 1977 taking care of young kids while their parents work. The non-profit -funded primarily by county agencies- cares for 430 children, ages zero through five. Most of them come from low-income families.

So there we were, bright and early to honor Lou,

a talented early childhood educator.

Coconut Grove artist George Rodez created a small mural design which he then mapped out with chalk.

The rest of us grabbed paintbrushes and began filling it in.

Others (the "Red Team" and "Blue Team") rolled fresh paint over a fading playground.

Lots of fun for a good cause.

Said one participant, "This was the Jimmy Carter of all birthdays".