I had a real rush of old memories the other day. It was a wet and rainy afternoon and Elizabeth and I were tired of being penned up inside. We decided to take a leisurely ride in the old pickup truck. Elizabeth is not that familiar with the Clermont area, the REAL Clermont area, and I thought it would be a good day to show her around. Of course, there's Highway 27, which runs up to town from my place. Scattered along the way are several subdivisions, different really in name only. Houses side by side, all looking the same. But I wanted to show Elizabeth the real Clermont. The one you only see when you venture off the major highway. We started off taking county road 474 which runs west for about 12 miles before ending at highway 33. Highway 33 runs north and south. South takes you to Lakeland and Auburndale. Head north and your going the "back way" up to Clermont. Now this "back way" is the rural version of highway 27. Definitely no subdivisions along this road. Mobile homes and old cracker style homes rule this area. Soon we come up on the old gas station/convenience store that used to also have a small restaurant attached called Beaches Barbecue. Me and the kids used to go there occasionally back when we first moved to Clermont. Beaches was not a fancy place. A basic menu. Food served on paper plates but they had some of the best barbecue you ever tasted. Unfortunately, the restaurant part closed seven or eight years ago but I was surprised to see a new eatery had just opened up that week called The Cast Iron Skillet. Definitely going to try that out as both Elizabeth and I love those out of the way mom and pop places. Further up the road I pointed out the privately owned grass strip airport where you could go up in a hang glider (with a instructor) and the owner would tow you up in his cessna airplane and release you to float around in the sky for a hour or two. I have never done it but I had been there with my parents and I remember my Dad, who also had his pilots license and owned a cessna plane, hitting it off with the owner and we just relaxing there watching those gliders soar through the sky. We passed the old dried up mud pit where they used to host mudding competitions every Saturday afternoon. People would come from all over to see who had the tallest and meanest 4x4 vehicle that could make it across the mud bog. Rarely did I ever see anyone do it and after getting buried up to the doors and waving the flag of surrender the old boy driving the contraption that looked like something from a sci fi movie would ride out and hook on to them and snatch them out. I took Joel Wharton out there one time and he was sure he was back somewhere around Gumboro Delaware. There was a old hay wagon that was used as a stage and a bluegrass band was up there just a picking and a grinning away. Alas, that fell to the wayside several years ago after the state and the county determined that all that driving in and out of the dirty, thick mud was bad for the environment. Pleeeze, whatever! The guys and the landowner put up a good fight but after the state started issuing fines they had no choice but to stop. We cut over and headed up to Groveland from there. Groveland is the next town over west of Clermont. After a short tour of Groveland we headed back towards the town part of Clermont and made a turn to take the back way through town to head back home. That's when we passed the entrance to Palatlakaha Park, aka Park Pals for short. We rode right by it and the memories immediately started coming back. I
had not thought of this place in years. "I'm going to turn around and show you something neat. You have to see this" I told Elizabeth. I had forgotten about taking my kids to this place years ago when they were little tykes. The park consists of sports fields, a pavilion and some picnic tables. Huge, towering oak trees that have to be over a hundred years old sit scattered around the park providing shade from Florida's bright sun. I had forgot about the boardwalk that the town built that starts at the edge of the woods and meanders through the forest until it ends at Lake Palatlakaha. The heavy rain had turned to a light shower by this time and I grabbed my umbrella and Elizabeth's hand. "Come on, I want to show you this." We started walking on the boardwalk and when we got further into the forest we were able to close the umbrella. The tall cedar trees, covered with spanish moss, caught and shielded us from the rain. The forest seemed to be teeming with life as nature does after a good soaking rain. The undergrowth and the wildflowers soaked up the rain and enjoyed the relief it provided from the stifling heat. Elizabeth was amazed at the beauty of the place. I noticed the planks we were walking on. I also had forgotten about the town raising money to help pay for this boardwalk. Businesses or individuals were able to purchase a plank in turn helping the town raise enough money to pay for the project. The boards were engraved with the business'
s name or the persons. A lot of the boards had been purchased in memory of someone who had passed on. I saw business's that were still in business and some that were closed and just memories now. Like Quincys Steakhouse out on RT 50. Then there was one for The Clock Restaurant. "The Clock" was one of those places where the same people hung out there at the same time every day drinking endless cups of coffee and telling the same old stories they had been telling for years. Although the place had a full menu this place was more of a meeting place where people went to find comfort. Comfort in the familiarness of old friends and knowing that they had somewhere to be that day. It was a sad day indeed when it closed down. We finally made it to the end where the walkway turns into a raised pier above the lake. Three guys were out there fishing and we had a few minutes of friendly conversation. They pointed out a alligator that was slowly floating along a few feet out in front of the pier. We bid them farewell and turned and made our way back to the park. When we got back and we walked over to the giant play area is when the biggest memories started to flood back to me. At the same time the town had installed the forest trail they had also built this huge play area that was a kids paradise. A giant fort like structure that was filled with ladders to climb, tunnels to crawl through and slides to climb up to and slide down. Seeing that place again after all these years made me remember all the times I had brought Lorenzo and Emily to play here. The two of them joining all the other kids playing in the fort. Me, on edge and ready to spring in a instant, ready to save one of my kids if they happened to climb to high or get pushed around by one of the older or bigger kids. They would always call out to me, "Daddy, come play with us!" I would go to them and they would laugh as I tried to squeeze through that tunnel or get through that space between walls but this place had been built for children. I would leave them to explore the places that only those small kids could and rejoin the other parents back out on the benches. Later on I would give them notice that it was time to leave. "Please Dad, five more minutes" they would beg. I would always say okay, knowing full well that five more minutes meant a minimum of fifteen more, maybe even twenty. After that I would have to say more firmly come on! It's time to go! I usually would throw some kind of false threat in there such as this will be the last time we ever come if you don't come NOW. They knew I was serious then and they would begrudgingly come. Wow. Seems like a lifetime ago and really it was. Now that little boy will be eighteen in a couple months and is on the verge of becoming a adult. My little girl is now as tall if not taller then me and will be starting high school this fall. Makeup and boys has replaced climbing and playing. Even I'm different. Married back then, then divorced and single, now married to a wonderful woman that I lov
e and am blessed to be with. It took that park that's out on the outskirts of Clermont to remind me how life goes. Always moving forward. Our lives constantly changing. Older loved ones, just like those old businesses that people loved, closing down and passing on. It makes me determined to live today in a way that I don't look back and regret tomorrow. Maybe I'll ride back to that park again soon and try once more to get through that tunnel or squeeze through that space. And I bet if I close my eyes and concentrate hard enough I'll still be able to hear my son and daughter, little kids once again, laughing and calling out to me "Come on Daddy, you can do it!"
CDC even issued a warning and gave instructions on what to do in case of a zombie onslaught. Read it for yourself if you don't believe me. Now I have watched all the George Romeo zombie movies and enjoyed them actually BUT, do I believe this could happen? NO, I don't. But then the other day I got to thinking, what if Emily and all the other zombie apocalypse theory people were right? What if I caught the virus and turned into one of those night/day/ morning/ noon of the living dead zombies? Being the somewhat picky eater that I am I can't see myself running down the street and grabbing the first non zombie person I could get my hands on and just start throwing down. Would my victim pause and stop fighting with me as I said a blessing? Then continue to resist again when I was done? Also I obsess sometimes about cleanliness and germs. I would never attack a homeless person out of fear of food poisoning of some kind. It would definitely have to be a recently showered or bathed person. Which then brings the question of what kind of person to eat? Couldn't be a Hispanic. They are all very fiery and spicy and spicy foods can give me heartburn and indigestion. A Asian? I'm sure if I attacked and ate one of them I'd be hungry again a hour later. A white guy? Nah, to bland and would probably taste like chicken anyway. And that brings up another thing. Definitely would have to be a woman. Attacking and eating a man would just be to gross. How about a black woman? Really, I shouldn't. Too much brown sugar and I'm trying to cut back on sweets plus I wouldn't want to get older and be a insulin dependent zombie later on in life. Indians? Shouldn't eat over 8 ounces of red meat a week so I would have to be careful there. Moderation is definitely key here. Then there's the decision to make on WHERE to attack. Definite no no's would be at the Walmart. Victims there would have to much body fat and my cholesterol would skyrocket, plus there's my arteries to consider. Also would probably come down with ink poisoning from eating all the tattoo covered flesh. The one upside would be that
they would be easy to catch as they rode around on half dead battery operated scooters while slamming and banging into isles and other people. Outside in the complex where I live? Nope. They have a zero tolerance policy on rowdiness and harassment so I'd end up evicted AND would forfeit my deposit. How about at Disney where I work. No way! First off, all the foods I was trying to avoid work there. Second, attacking a guest would result in automatic termination and then I couldn't pay the rent for my place at the complex that I don't want to get kicked out of to begin with! Having to think of all these different scenarios of what I would do makes my head hurt so bad that I'm beginning to think I might just be coming down with the zombie virus. And if I am, maybe I'll just do like I've always done with my fingernails and just chew on myself!
