In his studio, Ferdie Pacheco stares at the canvas and picks up his brush. Another friend from his youth has passed away. Time to summon a memory.
Miss Martha wills her hands to do the work, which is shucking one oyster after another, a hundred oysters, five hundred oysters, a thousand oysters, day after day and year after year.
I've always thought no state boasts such diverse music as our own. On my iPod you'll find songs from Greenville's Ray Charles and Gainesville's Tom Petty. I've got Orange Blossom Special, a famous bluegrass stomper from Gladesman Ervin Rouse, and Zora Neale Hurston's a cappella rendition of an old Bahamian tune …
By JEFF KLINKENBERG
Times Staff Writer
Oink. Oink. OINK!
The frog girl, Avalon Theisen, is all ears. A pig frog is a pretty good frog. Nice and big. Some people hear them and think they're hearing alligators. No way. Alligators have a deeper voice.
I'm a map guy. They're on my wall, in the glove compartment. I like spreading them out and remembering where I have been and dreaming about where I would like to go. Memories come flooding back, even a few bad ones, like the time the airboat broke down in the Everglades after dark. You're reading this. I survived.
In the Darwinian world of the Florida panther, the strong kill the weak to win the right to mate. In Southwest Florida, there is no surplus of wild land for young males. It's taken. If they stick around, they may get their tawny brown butts whipped or worse.
Sex. Murder. Scandal.
As much as I would like to stir a little tabloid juice into my story about shuffleboard, I won't, at least not right now, because this is a family newspaper and because I am going to talk about Sam Allen, the nicest guy on earth.
ST. PETERSBURG — Lorraine Margeson buys sensible, heavy-duty leather gloves perfect for weeding her yard. Weed weaponry also includes a pole for shooing away critters that are no stranger to her yard — rattlesnakes.
Gone. They all are. Tarzan, dead. Lloyd Bridges, the Sea Hunt guy, rest in peace. Esther Williams, the Hollywood mermaid, passed away in June. Bruce Mozert knew them all.
It's the national narrative. Late-night comics say so. Bloggers say so, even my level-headed colleague Craig Pittman in Slate.