#Towing Daytona Beach -

[floridafasttowing]

[mollydsails]

March 28 - The fog has cleared enough for us to get underway to Daytona. We will have 5 bridges today. RR bridge no problemo, as it is almost always open. There will be 2 opening bridges. The Haulover Canal is on signal. This is where we encountered the tug towing a tug towing a tug. The next bridge, Coronado Beach, opens on the hour and half hour. Wicked current. This is the bridge that David had to make the former Molly D do a donut to avoid crashing into the bridge. I’m hoping that experience has taught a lesson!

[sohannabarberaesque]

Try to imagine Wally Gator pulling this stunt off Daytona Beach, towed by no less than The Mystery Machine (and Scooby-Doo “himself” laughing hysterically at the exercise).

@warnerarchive @hanna-barbera-land @warnerbrosentertainment @hanna-barbera-blog @hanna-barberians

[sergeantcrush]

Late next week, we saddle up this clydesdale with her 35’ @acetrailers2017 gooseneck chariot and start our 10 hour journey to Daytona Beach, FL for Jeep Beach 2019. She’s all ready to go with a fresh oil change, DEF, tire rotation and fuel filters. #towpigtuesday #spring ---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---— #️⃣ #ford #superduty #f450 #2018 #f450limited #alumiduty #limited #powerstroke #sergeantcrush #diesel #towpig #towing #dieseltrucks #4x4 #ballin #dually #turbo #fordtrucks #alumidually #4x4 #gooseneck ---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---— 🔌 @ford @weatherguardnation @haagfordcountry @alumiduty ---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---— 🇺🇸 USMC 🇺🇸 ---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---—---— (at Chattanooga, Tennessee) https://www.instagram.com/p/BwDmUeFpWow/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=zbvq6do9oi55

[blind-rats]

SPOILER ALERT!

Veronica Mars fans everywhere exploded with excitement at last week’s news that Hulu had ordered a new season of the former UPN/CW mystery drama — and then, they immediately began speculating what the eight episodes will be about. First and foremost, how would they deal with the follow-up books written by Veronica Mars creator Rob Thomas?

Yes, books! After Thomas, star Kristen Bell, and most of the major cast members reunited to make a Kickstarter-funded movie in 2014, Thomas wrote two novels, The Thousand-Dollar Tan Line and Mr. Kiss and Tell. And based on Hulu’s own description of the upcoming season — which will center on a crime that takes place in Neptune during spring break — it sounds quite similar to Tan Line.

While Thomas has clarified that the new season won’t be an adaptation of either book — rather, it takes place five years after the events of the movie and novels — the two books provide tasty clues about what Veronica Mars might bring back. Let’s dig into both novels and investigate what Marshmallows can expect when the show returns next year.

What’s been revealed about the new season?

Rob Thomas will write the first episode and Kristen Bell will return to headline, but no other cast members have been announced yet. But when Hulu made its announcement last week, it also released a plot description that sounded a lot like The Thousand-Dollar Tan Line, the first Veronica Mars spinoff book co-written by Thomas and Jennifer Graham, which finds Veronica solving a crime during spring break.

On Twitter, Thomas described the season as a “hardcore So-Cal noir” that will follow “one big case.” Hulu’s press release about the project offers even more details: “Spring breakers are getting murdered in Neptune, thereby decimating the seaside town’s lifeblood tourist industry. After Mars Investigations is hired by the parents of one of the victims to find their son’s killer, Veronica is drawn into an epic eight-episode mystery that pits the enclave’s wealthy elites, who would rather put an end to the month-long bacchanalia, against a working class that relies on the cash influx that comes with being the West Coast’s answer to Daytona Beach.”

What happens in The Thousand-Dollar Tan Line?

The book is set directly after the events of the movie, which saw Veronica returning to Neptune to help ex-boyfriend Logan Echolls after he’s accused of murder. (By the movie’s end, Veronica and Logan reunited romantically, she lost a job offer at a top law firm in New York, and it looked like she was ready to move back home for good.) In Tan Line, Veronica is in Neptune caring for her father Keith, who is still recovering from a bad car crash he suffered in the movie. She’s in a long-distance relationship with Logan, who shipped out with the Navy on a six-month tour of duty. And she’s taken the lead at Mars Investigations in her dad’s absence. When a spring breaker goes missing, Veronica’s very particular set of skills are called upon to investigate, but as she gets deeper in the case, she’s pulled into a world of crime, money, and drugs that are darker than she’d imagined.

But again, Thomas said the new episodes will not tell the exact story of A Thousand-Dollar Tan Line.

His tweet indicates that the events of both novels will mostly be the backstory for the new season. (In case you’re wondering: Pony is the puppy that Veronica and Logan get in Mr. Kiss and Tell. Also, former Army general Marcia Langdon runs for sheriff against Dan Lamb and wins.) Still, it’s interesting that Hulu’s press release describes a story that’s so similar to Thousand-Dollar Tan Line. Will Veronica ruminate on how this new case bears a remarkable resemblance to the one she investigated five years earlier? Could some of the same players be involved?

Which longtime characters might return?

On Twitter, Rob Thomas has already announced that a handful of cast members will return alongside Kristen Bell, including Jason Dohring, Francis Capra, Percy Daggs III, and David Starzyk — with a promise that more casting news is “on the way.” Given that, plus the plots of the movie and the two books, here are the most likely returning characters and how they’d fit into Veronica Mars now.

Logan Echolls (confirmed to return): Veronica’s past and current boyfriend, played by Jason Dohring. He’s a Navy pilot who’s mostly absent from the first book, except for the occasional Skype session. They get a puppy named Pony in the second book before he’s called away for another tour.

Wallace Fennel (confirmed to return): Veronica’s best friend, played by Percy Daggs III. He’s a teacher at Neptune High and still does occasional investigating favors for her, like posing as a drunk college kid to get into a party.

Weevil (confirmed to return): One-time gang leader turned Veronica’s friend, played by Francis Capra. He and Veronica left things on bad terms at the end of Mr. Kiss and Tell when he dropped a lawsuit against Sheriff Lamb that Keith had championed.

Richard Casablancas (confirmed to return): The father of Veronica’s classmates Dick and Cassidy, played by David Starzyk. In the original series, Veronica discovers he ran a multi-million-dollar scheme and he was sentenced to prison for a year.

Cindy “Mac” Mackenzie: Veronica’s friend and computer whiz. In the first book, she takes a tech job at Mars Investigations and continues to be V’s, right-hand woman.

Keith Mars: Veronica’s dad. In the first book, he’s recovering from a car crash. In the second, he helps old friend Marcia Langdon take down Dan Lamb.

Dick Casablancas: Logan’s best friend and (sort of) charming dirtbag who lives up to his first name. He makes a cameo at a party in the first book but is only referenced in the second.

Leo D’Amato: Veronica’s former boyfriend. He appears in the movie and Mr. Kiss and Tell as a detective in the San Diego Police Department.

Vinnie Van Lowe: The slimy rival investigator that everyone loves to hate. He appeared in the movie, but neither of the books.

Cliff McCormack: The wise-cracking lawyer that both Veronica and her dad rely upon throughout the series, movie, and books.

Lianne Mars: Veronica’s mom, a former alcoholic. She didn’t appear in the movie, though she was on the show and recurs through the books when she returns to her daughter’s life with a new husband and son in tow.

The books also introduce a number of new characters, who could potentially appear in the fourth season. They include Marcia Langdon, the new police chief since Neptune has incorporated; Tanner Scott, Liane’s husband; and Hunter Scott, Veronica’s half-brother.

Where’s the LoVe?

All right, let’s get to the important stuff: What is the state of Veronica and Logan’s — a.k.a. LoVe’s — relationship? In Mr. Kiss and Tell, there was a lot of cute LoVe-y dovey stuff, including Veronica and Logan living together and getting that aforementioned puppy. But then Logan was shipped out with the Navy again and Veronica’s case brought her back into frequent and flirtatious contact with Leo. Still, the second book ended with Veronica video-chatting with Logan and declaring, “I’m here.”

Since Thomas revealed that the new episodes begin five years after the movie, it’s anybody’s guess as to how their relationship has developed during that time. Has the distance worn the couple down? Was Veronica tempted by the very handsome, very present Leo? Or maybe Veronica and Logan got hitched and had a baby?  It’s hard to imagine Jason Dohring won’t reprise his role for the new season, but if he doesn’t, perhaps Logan will be stuck on another tour of duty.

Whatever happened between them since Veronica Mars last hit the airwaves, it’s safe to say it will be another dramatic chapter in the show’s long-burning romance. In the words of Logan himself: “You and me. Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined and bloodshed. Epic.”

[todaysbiggesthits]

The Exam

Best Music Moment of 2018:

Nasty: Hearing Red Eyes live. I've already said it on TBH, but seeing your favorite band in their relative prime is such a cool thing. 

BC: Since partying all night with my favorite band fell within the short window between Bestuv '17 ending and Bestuv '18 beginning, I'd have to say:

1. Kacey Musgrave's performance of "Slow Burn" on SNL

2. Radiohead perfectly executing "There There" which transported me back to Lollapalooza in '08 3. Despite the annoyance of sitting in lots of Indy500 traffic due to a new parking situation, I quite enjoyed working through half of the Stones' catalogue with Bronco riding shotgun and Codemin listening in from the flatbed of Dillon's pickup

Codem: Spending what was New Year's Eve for the central timezone in the USA at a Fijian medical bath facility listening to music, playing cards, downing tequeel and getting ringworm with my blushing bride. -hearing peter hook play the bass line from shadowplay live and in person. -Arden, JD and JJ encouraging me to go talk to Kyle from Swearin'. -Silver Jews and Westing (By Musket and Sextant) came to Spotify. -Watching "Random Rules" video for the first time

Larse: Sitting behind this massive (I mean orca fat) guy at the CHVRCHES show, feeling really bad for him before the show started because he was all alone and kept looking around and worrying about letting people in his row and things. As soon as CHVRCHES came on though, this guy was exactly where he was supposed to be that night. Sang the words and danced to every song and just made my day with how happy he was to be there. Jotted down every song of the setlist into his smartphone and just had an all around great time. And some of you motherfuckers won't even go to a movie by yourself!

JD: May: A moody Chinatown stroll with the new Grouper album in the rain. July: Soaking up some good tunes at the housewarming party to ring in our new pad. July: Some hilariously rambunctious youths having at it when “House of Jealous Lovers” came on during a full play of Compilation 1 at the DFA summer party. One of them (who must have been ~8 in the bygone days of 02) screamed out “this is the song that started it all!” to a crowd of stationary gawkers and I felt a brief moment of hope for the youngs. August: Shaking a leg at Pete’s wedding (also featuring a delightful hojl spin). September: A rowdy spin of “Sentient Oona” on the Levee juke with an impromptu digital jukebox dance party at the Turkey’s Nest with jj’s cousin and his lovely girlfriend. October: The best music cue I’ve ever seen at the end of Beau Travail.

Bronco: Taking John to his first concert, and that first concert was Mastodon. That was pretty awesome to be able to share that experience with him. He was super into it, and so were the metalheads at the show. "Dad of the Year" was definitely shouted more than a few times, and I thought to myself, "fuckin-A right."

Chap: My kids saying "Papa" when "She Drives Me Crazy" by Fine Young Cannibals comes on.

Best Shows Seen in 2018:

C: Open Mike Eagle at Pitchfork

Bronco: Sleep

Laser: CHVRCHES at Riverside Theater; Chromeo at Summerfest

BC: The Brian Jonestown Massacre, Radiohead

Nasty: The War on Drugs. 

Code: kraus - schubas peter hook - metro no age - the bottle swearin' - bowery eleanor friedberger - lincoln hall my bloody valentine - aragon "quickly climbing the ranks of my nice" ballroom kraus - the bottle pictureplane - bottom lounge soft moon - the bottle book of love - chop shop

JD: 1. Shame at Market Hotel 2. Hamilton Leithauser at the Carlyle Hotel 3. Beach House at United Palace Theater 4. The Voidz at Elsewhere 5. Parquet Courts’ Wide Awake! mid-day album release show with my morning coffee at Rough Trade

6. Flasher at St. Vitus 7. Deafheaven at Brooklyn Steel 8. Panda Bear at Brooklyn Steel 9. No Age at Brooklyn Bazaar 10. CCFX at the DFA summer party at Elsewhere with my girlfriend in full blown rem sleep standing up with her head on my shoulder 11. Alex Cameron at Warsaw 12. Gang Gang Dance and Interpol at House of Vans Of note: Dekkar at On Cinema Live at the Bell House.

Confession of 2018:

JD: I have a real TBH confession that I held until now. I was thoroughly enjoying the Flasher album on a recent evening after a few too many drinks when a burning urge to see them washed over me. They had a show coming up at a bar just a few blocks from my apartment, so I enthusiastically snapped up tickets for me and jj. Thinking this might be a good opportunity for a TBH outing, I emailed Chap trying to peer pressure him into attending the Flasher show and gauging his interest in a Parquet Courts concert that would be happening the following evening. No response.

We later received an invitation to a holiday cocktail party at a friend’s apartment on the same night as the Flasher show, and I hatched a cockamamie scheme to go from our home in Greenpoint to the party in Soho, leave after an hour to catch the concert back in Greenpoint, head back to the party in Soho, and finally retire back to Greenpoint. JJ wisely passed on such a scheme and I left the party to trek off to the concert solo with an extra ticket in tow. 

Awash in good cheer and excitement while Flasher set up, I thought what the hell, might as well take a flier on reminding Chap of the show. Maybe the twins are asleep, he’s just sitting around, can jump into a cab, claim the extra ticket, watch the show, and cruise on back. Mid-text I paused, wondering just why he never responded to the initial email weeks ago. A quick gmail search, and there sat my drunkenly composed beseechment to join, rotting in the drafts folder unsent. 

A couple of the dudes from Parquet Courts were bouncing around the bar, and I decided it would make more sense to hit up Chap about attending their show the next day than explain the whole snafu and extend a ludicrous invitation that required dropping everything and leaving immediately for a show he didn’t even know was happening. I ate the extra ticket, had a blast watching Flasher, zipped back to the party, drank myself into oblivion, and was way too hung over to even consider the Parquet Courts show the next day. NICK SORRY NICK! (editor’s note: too long)

Larson: I saw Timberlake at Fiserv Forum

BC: My neighbor invited me to see Imagine Dragons. I lied and said I had to travel for work. "On a Saturdee?" he inquired. "Yeah. Totally sucks," I awkwardly replied. I hid inside my house all weekend.

Bronco: I'd rather see shows by myself than with my buddy. He likes going to shows, and I keep inviting him, and we have a fine time, but he doesn't live in town anymore, so I gotta worry about him drinking too much and driving an hour home. And his wife is a psychopath and that complicates shit. Too much. And it's just so much more freeing being able to not give a fuck about anyone else during that time, to just soak it all in, it feels good and right.

Codem: -despite all of the bad things that kanye said, i still liked listening to his catalogue throughout the year. i even liked his EP that came out in 2018.   -i really liked the beach house album!   -i liked the snail mail album, skipped two opportunities to see her and then by --the end of the year, i thought the album was sort of boring.   -Arden and i went to see pictureplane open for alice glass and thought that the show sucked and pictureplane played such stupid songs. three months later, he put out my favorite album of the year and i can't stop thinking that i hated all of the same songs the first time i heard them. -i read an article on a bright fall saturday morning that exhaustively detailed the Cardi B and Nicki Minaj feud and i watched all of the instagram story clips that showed Cardi B scrolling through her phone with those outlandish nails of hers. it took me two cups of coffee to get through it all, but get through it i did. [i couldn't think of nicki minaj's name just now so i stared at the ceiling and kept running through names in my mind's eye: missy, kim, cardi, kelis, kim??, eve, trina. i couldn't remember. so i finally googled "kanye monster" and found her name. easy.]

Nasty: I'm done with new music. It’s over. I didn't listen to a single new album - I don't even know if I could name a new album. Realistically, I did like Daytona. 

Biggest Disappointment of 2018:

Nasty: MAGA Kanye

Larse: Timberlake at Fiserv Forum

Bronco: Black Tusk, Alice in Chains

BC: Getting into The Orwells literally two days before #MeToo chewed 'em up and spit 'em out

Chap: Car Seat Headrest. Can't believe he's gay! jk the album was the disappointment.

Code: -somebody hacked my spotify account and wiped all of my music and replaced it with raggaeton and halsey. i was able to get my music back, but i lost all of my meticulously cared for folder structure. -i wanted the simple minds album to be cool; it was not.   -i wanted the swearin' album to be really great; it was okay. -pictureplane and ovlov did not tour their albums.   -i had to eat two tickets to my bloody valentine after buying four. the original show sold out and i thought i was going to be able to sell my extras for a profit -- they ended up announcing a second show and there was no secondary market for the original show.   -no CCFX followup ):  

JD: Got to Hammerstein Ballroom for MBV and there was a line longer than an entire avenue. They were already on by the time we made it into the heinously oversold venue and we were stuck by the bar in the lobby surrounded by people constantly shouting in an effort to compete with the apocalyptic noise.

C: Terrible sound at Tame Impala show

Most Overrated of 2018:

Code: -probably that kacey musgraves album; i got absolutely nothing out of it. also, i liked the robyn album, but i wanted to love it after many years between releases. i think i'm just being greedy.   -i'm going to get killed for this, but the throwing the baby out with the bathwater approach to artists' criminal behavior or inflammatory tweets is pretty overrated right now. 

Bronco: Ghost - I like their schtick, with rotating members and the whole inverted church thing. It's campy but they're sticking to it, and that's fine, but their music isn't metal. It's poppy glam shit about the devil, and that's also fine, but I don't get why it's on anyone's list. Production value maybe? But the music itself isn't anything to write home about. I just don't get it.

JD: n/a. The thick layer of nonsensical, Pynchonian obfuscation the platform economy dollops over everything has made it impossible to understand how anything is rated. Almost feel bad for the click driven publications that have to just throw out a guess.

C: Mitski

Chap: Snail Mail

BC: Kanye. His new music is no longer good enough to put up with his bufoonery.

Laser: Timberlake at Fiserv Forum

Nasty: Clemson. GOARSH. 

Make It Stop 2018:

Nasty: DJT, anytime now. 

Bronco: Party politics. No more labels allowed. You can have a list of stuff you support and a list of stuff you are against, but that's fucking it. No more this side vs that side for reasons as caddy as an R vs. a D. Also religion having any influence whatsoever in the way our country is run. Believe whatever you want to believe, but don't force your bullshit on anyone else. You want to torment yourself with a lifelong christian guilt trip, that's your boat to float, but don't go poking holes in my boat just because you're a miserable fuck. Just stop. Also, Jack White.

Larse: Timberlake at Fiserv Forum

Chap: Baby Shark

BC: My shrinking attention span

JD: The cultural currency of clapbacks, shade, and tea.

Code: trap music playing from a phone's external speaker while i'm trapped on public transportation.  i'm going to go broke buying enough earbuds to distribute to these offenders.

Biggest TBH Regret of 2018:

Larse: Timberlake at Fiserv Forum

C: Not seeing Low at a church on University of Chicago's Campus

JD: -Hearing about a Grouper show at a church around the corner from my pad after it sold out. -Not necessarily a regret because I didn’t know it was happening, but oh how I wish I had seen Jon Glaser and Jon Benjamin as Dave Farina and Dave Franz, Dennis and Dennis’ sons, at a Bowery Ballroom Yo La Tengo show.

BC: -I wish I would've cooked up a way to see Shame play a midnight show in Bloomington.  I just want that kid to scream "Concrete" in my face. -I probably should've seen Smashing Pumpkins when they rolled through town too. 

Code: my flight got delayed and i missed the swearin' show at that place in brooklyn that "smelled like hot fish"

Bronco: Not a regret so much as I was super-bummed when High on Fire dropped out of the tour I saw in November. The venue we were at put my buddy and I right next to the stage. It would've been crazy awesome to see HOF there, but they've rescheduled at least, and I'll see them in January.

Bin: I haven't listened to any Kanye this year. I thought it would feel gratifying by year end - it doesn't. I'll probably still avoid this most recent album, but I'm going back to the well. I'll continue to talk shit about him though. Take that Ye!

Chap: No regrets 

Detective Murtaugh of 2018:

Larse: Getting too old to keep up with all of this new music and put a worthwhile list together at the end of the year…

Nasty:

Code: i added book of love show to my top ten concert list because Arden and i were able to take a seat on the ground in the balcony section. we had to continually move our spot on the floor to be able to peer through the railing and a mass of bodies in order to catch a glimpse of the stage.

JD: -Two of my favorite music related experiences of the year were seeing Hamilton Leithauser in the cafe of the Carlyle Hotel and the extended Niles family in The Nutcracker at the NYC Ballet. -When I googled “Detective Murtaugh” just now it was mostly pictures of Damon Wayans (Jr. no less!) playing the role on the Lethal Weapon CBS series.

Bronco: Putting up with shit instead of speaking up about it. There's room on the train but I'm squished by the door because some self-absorbed dinks won't move in? "Could you please move in?" It sounds so simple, but breaking that silence barrier was a scary thing. Now I don't give a shit. I'm on train for two stops, and I'm not going to see you again, so fuck you, move in or I'm going to move myself in and it aint gonna be pleasant for you.

Chap: A hipster female barber said I was a silver fox. AYFKM?

BC: What the hell is Fortnite?

Resolution for 2018 Update:

Larse: get my list in on time! How it went: probably horseshit! (editor’s note: it was early yet!)

NACK: While I didn’t have the occasion to catch shows this year, I anticipate doing so in '18 due to some changes afoot. How it went: Joe Dons has yet to let me know of a concert going on and I have no other friends here, so I blame him for my failure

Bin: I’m just going to keep saying “get to NY for a show with JD” until I make it happen. How it went: Didn't get to NY for a show with JD.

JD: See you gents more often with or without a show attached.  How it went: Fairly decent, but is it really ever enough?

Bronco: Get in shape. I want to stick to a schedule of running all year round. I ran a 10K back in June, then needed to recover for a bit, been recovering ever since…Fat Dad needs to keep running all year round without excuse, especially given that we go skiing between Xmas and New Year’s and I’m gonna be a floppy legged mess. During those runs, I’ll try to listen to new material each time. How it went: I ran a 5-miler in May. Haven't run since. Though I have been reasonably consistent with my prison workout (situps and pushups before bed time), so now there's a hint of muscle under my fat dad layer. Just gotta combine the two now somehow.

Code: make more playlists for my wife How it went: i said that i was going to make more mixes for my wife. i made one year-end mix for her and i'm sure she's loving it :*

BC: No more resolutions How it went: 2018 Resolution was "No More Resolutions," so pretty darn good!

Resolution for 2019:

Laser: ---

BC: Listen to one new album a week; reboot the Classic Album Review Club

JD: Greater consciousness of how I’m using my attention - an ineffectual and meaningless protest of the ways the world is burning down in pursuit of it.

Bronco: Read more 'classic' books. I didn't read many of them, even in school (especially in school? Never could read a book I was told to read). But I'm leaning in the sci-fi direction of 'classics'. I just read Dune this summer, and wrapped up Fahrenheit 451 the other day. I'm feeling an unexplained need to beef up my nerd credentials and this seems the way to accomplish it.

Chap: Learn Piano; Guilt Joe Dons into finally inviting me to a concert

Nasty: I'm sticking with it - get to NY for a show with JD.

Code: catch ovlov, pictureplane, washer, chromatics, EMA and colleen green live this year.

Most Anticipated of 2019:

Bronco: Tool. Fifth year's the charm. I'm actually hopeful this time around. In fact, I half expect them to drop it on New Year's Eve or something, just so it's post Listicle season, but not quite 2019 so it can't end up on those lists either. They're such dicks like that.

BC: Still waitin' on dat Vampire Weekend yet

Chap: Vampire Weekend, Chromatics

C: Lin Manuel in Mary Poppins... I kid, My Bloody Valentine

JD: Going to put Frank Ocean out into the universe, MBV take 2, Grimes, Panda Bear, Kanye’s escape from the Black Lodge

Codem: chromatics - tommy, MBV, washer, colleen green, EMA(?), DoM

Laser: no idea what's even on the docket

Nasty: Mueller's Report

[funsink]

Family vacations to take for some winter sun

It’s cold and raining outside and all your dreaming is of beaches and sunshine - we think it sounds like the perfect time to go away. If you’ve got a young family in tow, here are a few vacation destinations to keep in mind.

Barbados - Imagine crystal clear waters, sunny days and sandy beaches, Barbados is a family paradise. It’s a beautiful island with plenty of different family activities, whether you love swimming, seeing the wildlife or taking part in daring activities. You can spend your days’ building sand castles, chilling on the beach and exploring its culture.

Orlando, Florida - Every kid’s paradise is Disney World, and if you have the time and budget, it’s a great spot for winter sun. Florida has year-round sunshine so there’s no wrong time to go, and at least in the winter, it’s a little cooler for children. In Orlando, there is Disney World, Universal Studios, water parks and more - and a little whilst away you have the beaches of Daytona to experience. You can’t beat it for a magical vacation!

Dubai - The modern and large city of Dubai, despite the large factor, is great for kids and a family break. There are beautiful beaches, water parks, cool buildings to explore and theme parks. It’s not all shopping malls and skyscrapers. Dubai offers something for all and really is one of a kind.

Canary Islands - Or you can always set foot on European soil for your winter sun in the Canary Islands. You’ll experience the beach life, hot weather all year round and bucket full of family activities.

Discover a whole range of family entertainment at www.funsink.com.

[whipplefilter]

could u do a fic abt storm? idc what it's abt but if u cld thatd b great!

Sure thing, anon! Here’s a fic about how Storm spent the off-season timeskip at the beginning of Cars 3! 

Fic: Motherland

They’re in Gemmayzeh, in a restaurant with a dress code to meet an uncle the American side of Storm’s family is elated to see. His mother cries.

Half an hour ago, winding through Beirut, Storm asked why a hauler couldn’t take them. But Storm’s mother wants the entire city to see her. Normally, Storm doesn’t mind being the center of attention, either, but none of these cars know who he is, and no one cares. Not here. Storm doesn’t like being reminded that his reputation doesn’t always speak for itself.

“At the restaurant, don’t speak,” his mother tells him. Whisper, if he must. She says, “Your Arabic is… ” and she means it’s like a baby’s. His family–well, his mother’s family–is very well-known in Lebanon, and there will be listeners.

If Gale were here, she’d laugh about this. She’d laugh about anyone telling Storm to be quiet, and she’d laugh at Storm being mad about it. She’d tell him his mother’s probably doing him a favor–Storm doesn’t want to talk to any of these cars; really, he’s been given permission to be sullen and silent. It’s a win-win.

She’d be right, but Storm’s still angry.

–

“Are we going to have to pray?” Storm asks. A private jet is launching them over the pole, straight from LAX to Lebanon. “Like, five times a day, facing–”

“We’re Maronites,” says his mother, tersely. Like that explains anything. Storm’s pretty sure he isn’t one.

–

“Do you have any plans for the off-season?” asks Shannon Spoke.

He’s never really understood her mannerisms, can’t tell if she likes him or wished he’d rot. She’s too professional. He tells her he’ll be overseas, training with supercars.

“You go where the competition is,” he says. He sounds self-assured and silky, like usual. When he watches the broadcast, he believes it.

In Lebanon, he tries to make his world as much like Los Angeles as possible. He doesn’t need to be worldly and he doesn’t want to “train” with supercars. In Lebanon, the Internet is the same. The fuel is a little better, to be honest. But those mountains could be the Sierras and the water could be the Pacific; they’re just out of reach, just like in Los Angeles. From Storm’s vantage point, Lebanon is just like Los Angeles.

Storm has never been to the mountains. He’s never touched the sea.

“Don’t people just live on the beach over there?” asks a cousin, in English Storm’s mother called “stylized” and Storm just thinks is bad. But it’s still better than his Arabic.

This cousin lives on the beach.

“Have you ever been to Disneyland?” the cousin asks. “What about Jag-Z’s house?”

When Storm turns one year old, he’s in Lebanon. His mother claims he’s been here before. Obviously, he doesn’t remember. He is one year old, and he has been to twenty-four racetracks. And Lebanon.

–

They are faster. Storm doesn’t need to race them to know. His cousin has diamond-encrusted headlights just because he can. He wears gold instead of chrome. And he can drive 400 kilometers an hour. Storm’s not even sure how fast that is, because kilometers mean nothing to him, but he’s a racecar. He knows speed when he sees it. He knows horsepower when he hears it. And he can feel it through the road, into his tires, into the core of him.

They’d never make it 600 miles, though. Not in the dense muggy heat of North Carolina, no sea breeze. No breaks.

“Why would anyone do that?” asks a different cousin, incredulous.

Storm hates them, because supercars aren’t cars; not really. Not according to him. Putting wheels on something doesn’t make it a car.

Fun fact: Half the cars in the stands in North Carolina think the same of him. All the Next-Gens. “Stock cars,” indeed. The other half probably don’t think even think something like McQueen is a real car. Again, not really.

“He doesn’t really… belong here,” says yet another cousin. She’s a contortion of metal that doesn’t seem like a car at all. She’s the fastest. She looks at him, and it’s a mixture of pity and resignation.

Storm’s an adult. He’s a superstar. And he needs babysitting.

And maybe that’s not what she said at all. She was speaking too fast for Storm to understand, and it’s then Storm realizes why his mother thinks he’s an idiot. She’s always spoken to him like one. It’s really not his fault he hit the road with IGNTR and guess what! Newsflash: Talladega doesn’t have a lot of Arabic speakers. Neither does Daytona. Charlotte. Kansas. Phoenix.

And now he can’t understand what this stupid girl is saying.

“The movie we want to see is in Arabic. Based on a Kahlil Gibran book,” she says. “We don’t think you’d understand it.”

“Oh, Kahlil Gibran,” Storm replies airily, in English. He hasn’t figured out how to be skillfully sarcastic in Arabic. “He’s a legend. Right up there with Dean Koontz.”

There’d been a Koontz novel in the LAX bookstore, discounted 70% and collecting dust.

“Who?” asks the cousin.

Storm mimes haughty shock.

–

There’s a story that everyone in the garage kind of knows, about McQueen and some terrible desert town and whatever it is he’d learned there. Or at least, McQueen seems to assume everyone knows it, and everyone gives a damn. Storm is sure he’s not the only one who doesn’t. At all.

But stranded in Beirut, which is not in a desert and is not a small town, that’s what comes to mind.

If Storm has any stories to bring back, they all end the same way.

He wants to get out of here.

–

His mother cries when they leave. Out and out weeps. Storm’s mother doesn’t cry about anything, ever, but she cries when they leave Beirut. She’s been living in America for thirteen years and Lebanon is the only home she feels she’ll ever have. If it weren’t for Storm’s father, she’d never leave it. Storm’s father is the only thing she loves more than her motherland, and sometimes Storm wonders if even that is true. Maybe she’ll disappear into some casino in Jounieh and he’ll never see her again.

She’s self-conscious about her emptiness, when it’s just the two of them parked in first-class. “You wouldn’t understand,” she says. “You can’t.”

She’s right.

–

“Welcome home,” Gale beams. She meets them on track at Daytona. Qualifying for the Florida 500 is in a week.

When Storm lays down an all-time track record during practice, RSN says he’s marking his territory. He’s the Piston Cup’s youngest, newest champion, and he’s coming home to roost. He’s the king of the superspeedway.

“And also holds track records at multiple intermediate and short tracks on the schedule,” Bob Cutlass clarifies. “Not just superspeedways.”

Darrell Cartrip guffaws. “Heck, put Stormy boy on anything, and he’ll make it a superspeedway!”

When Cartrip talks about Daytona, Storm’s pretty sure his voice breaks. If he had to live an ocean away from Daytona, he’d probably cry too. It’s the home of the Piston Cup, after all. And Cartrip bleeds race fuel.

–

Home. Home home home. It’s all anyone ever talks about.

–

McQueen shows up eventually. When he talks he sounds even more homespun than Storm remembers him, as though he’s spent his off-season buried in a southern swamp somewhere, befriending the Piston Cup’s lowest common denominators. Given the sporty yellow thing and the rusty old truck in tow, this probably isn’t untrue.

–

“You don’t belong– on this track–!” Storm grits out, fender to fender with that sporty yellow thing. He says it because it’s true. He belongs here; she can’t. This is the only place he belongs.

And then, at the finish line, he doesn’t.

–

He doesn’t.

–

He’s never felt like the world was so far away.

–

When he returns to Los Angeles after the race, his mother is in town. She’s discussing business, catching lunch with Storm’s agent, his contracts attorney. That she and Storm cross paths is sheer coincidence. She hadn’t exactly penciled him in.

She’s polished and detailed, immaculately presentable and not at all the woman crying into magazines, weeping streaks across her windshield 41,000 feet above sea level. But Storm thinks maybe, just maybe, that might be their common ground. What he’d felt, he still doesn’t know, he can’t really tell. But she’s his mother, after all. Maybe if she–

Storm narrows his eyes. Maybe she could be useful to him for once in her life.

“Good morning, habibi,” she says absently, still scanning over some papers.

He wants her to look up. To look at him.

He wants her help. He wants her to explain his feelings to him, tell him she understands. She can talk about his stupid uncle if she wants to. Even the cousins. He feels stupid wanting any of that.

When Storm’s mother finally looks up, she takes one glance and says, “Oh, stop. You lost a race, not a country.”

She doesn’t look up again.  

[floridafasttowing]

[beentheredonethatblog]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Daytona Wrecker Service Vtg Jacket Big Rig Tow L.

[blog-writting]

Florida truckers show support for Daytona Beach officer allegedly shot by man linked to Black militia

Florida truckers show support for Daytona Beach officer allegedly shot by man linked to Black militia

(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push(); Truckers gathered outside a Florida hospital on Tuesday evening to show their support for a Daytona Beach Police officer still recovering, a week after being shot in the head by a man who was eventually apprehended at a Black nationalist paramilitary encampment in Georgia.  The so-called community vigil involved tow truckers from across central…

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[localocksmithnearme]

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About Chevrolet keylock technology

Chevrolet is a United States of America world wide automaker with an headquarter in Detroit, Michigan, the USA Created in 1903 by constructing commercial motor vehicles, mainstream vehicles and Trucks.

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[casorasi]

With champs in tow, Gibbs stands tall as class of NASCAR

DAYTONA BEACH, Fla (AP) — Joe Gibbs was trying to apologize. His driver won another checkered flag at Daytona -- the same track where Gibbs' eponymous race team is the defending Daytona 500 champion -- and the 79-year-old wanted to… With champs in tow, Gibbs stands tall as class of NASCAR

[hausofsamson-blog]

Vintage Beauty

Part One

I’ve been at war with my hair for the last year now. Since my early 20’s, I’ve struggled to maintain a head full of blonde hair, though I am naturally dark brunette. I’m always too blonde, too ash, not blonde enough, too dark, one daughter happy that I am blonde and I match her, the other daughter not happy because she is brunette and “mommy is not like her”. War within myself to accept the fact that I am pushing 40 and maybe platinum blonde needs to stay in my memory and not on my head. My husband, with whom I have been with for 12 years, just clued me in to the fact that he actually prefers brunettes, not blondes. Could you have mentioned this long ago, I inquire of him?  I’ve been seeing two hair stylist this last year, bouncing back and forth between the two of them trying to get the perfect “ombre” - both blonde and brunette. Exasperated, I book an appointment with a new hairdresser at The Ocean Waters Spa at the Plaza Hotel in Daytona Beach, an unusual move for me. After 30 minutes of extensively going over pictures of celebs who had gone ombre, Christina, Saint Hairdresser, and I decide on three colors: copper, dark brown and caramel to break up the overwhelming blonde. I am pleased with the outcome, and 2 hours later, give Christina a hug as I leave the Plaza Hotel. Pulling out of the valet, my mind turns back from ‘Celeb-Ombre Me’ to ‘Mom-me’ as I calculate how much time I have left until carpool pick up of my 3 little ones, Raegan (7) Olivia (5) and Brett (3). In my peripheral, I catch a glimpse of Starbucks, and in an effort to make a tight U-turn I ram my 2003 Cadillac Escalade right into the curb, blowing my tire instantly. I drive this Escalade like an Army tank. It’s a beast and a hauler, clocking in at 160K miles and still going strong. Though I have a Mercedes (my 2nd car, a gift from my husband), I rarely drive it. The Caddy brought home all three of our babies from the hospital and though it is rotten inside out, has “Olivia” etched in pen on the passenger side headrest, has raisins and goldfish forever squished between the seats, I love this car. So, here I sit on Atlantic Avenue in Daytona Beach, wondering how a “tiny bump” into the curb has managed to gash open my tire. A man is having lunch with his wife and comes over asking if I need help. I’ve already got my cell phone in hand and I’m dialing AAA. I thank him kindly, but wave him on. Tow truck should be here soon. “Do I need a tire change or a tow?”, the lady asks. I have no idea if I even have a spare tire and don’t bother looking - just send the truck. One hour wait I’m told, so I head to Starbucks, which got me into this mess in the first place! Picking up the phone, I dread telling my husband whats happened. It was never in my plan to tell him that I was going to the Plaza Hotel & Spa to get my hair done - now I would have to fess up. “I got a flat tire, but don’t worry, AAA is on the way, and I will be back on the road soon”, I texted him hoping he was in surgery and not able to respond. (he's a Plastic Surgeon) “Where are you?” he texts back immediately. “In Daytona. I’m waiting at Starbucks. All is well”, I reply. The phone rings and I pick up. “What are you doing in Daytona?”, he asks, knowing I rarely leave my Ormond Beach 10 mile radius, unless it’s to go to the office or Homegoods. “Getting my hair done at the Plaza Hotel”, I embarrassingly admit. I'm sensitive to the fact that he has been doing surgery since 7:30 am; grueling, intense cases that are physically and mentally draining, and I feel badly to tell him I am not at home working, or with the kids, or doing something more productive with my time than getting my hair done. He’s so easy going,  but I think I can hear it in his voice that's he’s somewhat perplexed that in the middle of the day I am not working on our newly launched skincare line, our Plastic Surgery practice, or my Ph.D, which is dragging on and on, and now our two younger kids have gone into late stay so I could get my hair done. Wife-fail? Check!

The tow truck arrives, I know this company, ‘Lucky’s Towing’, they have towed me before. The driver has a friendly smile and spots my very-obvious spare tire right away. He attempts to change it, but neither my tool kit nor his has the appropriate lug nut, so we load my cherished Caddy onto the truck, and make our way to Pep Boys in Ormond. On the way there, I ask way too many nosy questions and find out the driver is by profession, a Chiropractor. He has all sorts of stories about growing up in Hawaii, about his brother a talented local tattoo artist, and his wife who wishes he would work as chiropractor instead of a tow truck driver. Between my husband and I, we have 3 cars: my beloved Caddy, my Mercedes and my husband’s Jaguar. The caddy never needs anything but a $35 oil change, but the Benz and the Jag constantly need TLC. Josh, the manager at Pep Boys, knows us well. He tells me I’ve got a 2 hour wait to put the spare on. Sitting in PepBoys, staring at my phone for 2 hours seems like an awful idea, so I head out on foot to Virgola; a little Italian Wine & Oyster Bar that is a 5 minute walk down the street. It’s 3:00pm now, and I think a glass of chilled Sauvignon Blanc is in order. The kids are going to have to go to late stay even longer. Part TwoI never make it to Virgola. Instead I am intercepted by Ms. Priss, a Boutique consignment store on the main drag in Ormond Beach. I’ve passed Ms. Priss hundreds of times, as it’s on my regular route around town, Ubering my children to school, gymnastics, piano, swimming, and playdates. It’s a cute shop; pink with striped awnings. I decide to go in. I barely make it in the door and know Virgola is not going to happen today. The glass case by the door is full of lovely sparkly jewels and clutches. A miniature Louis Vuitton retail bag catches my eye. I ask if the store has anything “vintage” and am delighted to find it’s full of vintage Escada, Chanel, Jimmy Choo, St. John and more. I try on several vintage pieces, quality garments made in India that must be from the 70’s or 80’s, and find a stunning vintage beaded Adrianna Papell top that would pair nicely with some cut up jeans, a silver vintage clutch, Escada jeans, and a 1980’s hot pink beaded prom dress, which I swoon over, and anticipate someone in my social circle will host an 80’s party at some point in the future, and it will be perfect. I look at the tag and find the dress is Made in USA, a delightful bonus.  I find 3 vintage Kenneth Jay Lane jewelry pieces; a large cocktail ring, a snake ring, and a 2 headed rhinestone ram bracelet in ivory. I spot a large vintage Estee Lauder gift with purchase tote that is dark green and would make a nice weekender bag.

The only vintage thing I currently own is my mother’s black patent leather clutch from the 1950’s - it is my favorite, and most cherished piece in my wardrobe.An hour passes and I have not even made it through half of the boutique. Josh calls to tell me the car is finished. Already? Darn. I have enjoyed talking to the two owners/managers of Ms. Priss. I make my purchase, and on the way out the door, I promise to return and do some serious damage to the “wall of jeans”. They smile warmly and thank me for coming in. As soon as I get back to the car, I put on my snake ring - (I’m in love) and head to get the kids. It’s now 4:30pm and I know they will be hungry and tired after such a long day at school. The snake ring catches both my girls eyes as soon as I pick them up, “Mommm, you are wearing a snaaaakkke ring?”, they exclaim in disbelief, not normally my cup of tea. My blonde daughter is disappointed I am more brunette (I have forgotten all about my trip to the salon this morning), but my younger daughter is delighted; we are now brunette twins.

Over the next few weeks, it’s business as usual, but I wonder what other little shops around town might have some hidden vintage treasures. I am an avid reader of the Daytona Beach News Journal. Let me be honest, here. I ONLY read the paper to get my horoscope. It’s like dessert at the end of the meal. I faithfully digest most every section of the paper, never reading the sports section, and work my way to the Life, Food, Health, Entertainment and Faith sections where the horoscopes are found. Lately, there are many articles on Beach Street clean up after Hurricane Irma. Shops have been flooded and thousands of dollars of income has been lost since Beach Street has been closed for nearly 2 weeks. There are always articles on Beach Street though. Public officials and concerned citizens weighing in on homelessness, what to do with the constant panhandlers, efforts to revitalize the distressed area, etc.I am not really a fan of Beach Street. I don’t find it particularly inviting or safe, and it’s not all that pretty, though there are some nice little retail shops that place potted plants and items for sale outside the door, cozy-ing up the curb appeal. Wine-Me, the wine bar, has nice outdoor seating that is inviting and pretty. Overall, I wish the landscaping was more charming, and I would love to see a Tea Room on the avenue. However, as a lover of china, I frequent Sisters Decor and Nicole’s Beach Street Mall. I love the two sisters who own Sisters Decor, I can’t tell you their names, but they are delightful. The man who works there is charming and nice, I presume he is married to one of the sisters? The china selection at Nicole’s Beach Street can’t be beat - entire sets of vintage china from Europe, some as many as 150 pieces, for a few hundred dollars, at most. Most sets are under $100. You can pick up rare antique German or English tea cups and saucers for as little as $6-7. I’ve gotten lovely furniture and a tea cart there as well.  I’ve not really ventured into the other stores along the avenue, but I see in the paper, and hear on the radio, there is to be a ‘Hurricane Irma Relief Party’ the evening of Friday September 29 from 5-9 on Beach Street. I’m wondering if there are any good vintage items to be had? Part ThreeBefore heading home from work on Friday, I decide to detour to Beach Street to support the Hurricane Relief Shopping Party I’ve heard about. I’m really looking for vintage items I can add to my newly formed collection of ‘all things vintage’, inspired after my trip to Ms. Priss. The stores are busy getting ready for that evening’s promised deluge of shoppers, but the owners are friendly and warm and stop to kindly greet customers. I head into my favorite store first, Sisters Decor, and spot a lovely Christian Dior (Chr. Dior) bow necklace in the glass case. I can’t pass it up. I ask one of the 2 Sisters to hold it for me as I continue browsing. I find a darling little Cloisonne bird, 2 vintage mink hats, and a gorgeous mint two-stem vase. While in the store, I google the name found on the bottom of the vase and I see it is a female designer from the 1960’s. I hem and haw over getting it, but in the end I don’t, kicking myself later, as I am still thinking about it. I purchase the vintage Dior necklace, Cloisonne bird, and 2 mink hats, and on my way out the door, I asked one of the 2 Sisters if she could keep her eye out for vintage rings for me since I am in the process of acquiring pieces for my collection. She said she would, but also tells me about Evans and Sons 2 doors down.

I have never heard of Evans and Sons, but since I am already there, I thought I would stop by for a quick look-see. Inside I meet Alan and Chris, owners of Evans and Sons, a mother and son pair. They are both delightful. I spend about 30 minutes with them, looking at all of their vintage pieces, listening to stories of their travels, and learning about their 30 year history in the same exact shop location on Beach Street. Alan is warm and friendly with a large personality.  Though I do not ask further, Chris, a stylish woman, has a very classy accent, somewhere from Europe; France or other. She is delightful, with coiffed hair and is extremely polite and well spoken. The Evans shop is a luxury treasure box; full of high quality gems. It is not in my price range today, rings are in the thousands, so I thank the owners for their time and wave Au Revoir. Once outside, I send my husband a text. “ Can I buy myself a ring for my birthday?” it reads. “It’s $1,900”, I proactively tell him as I know that will be his first question. “Are you serious?” he answers immediately. “No, I’m not” I text back with a smiley emoji, but really I am.

I carry on down the way and dip into Riverfront Olive Oil & Vinegar Company. Riverfront is a well organized little shop where you can sample an array of oils and vinegars. The shop owners are friendly and after I sample a handful of oils, I leave with a nice bottle of Tuscan Herb infused Olive Oil.

I have heard of Moxie Vintage but never had the pleasure of going into the store before. Many friends have mentioned the store when donning festive 1920’s attire for parties, but I had never ventured in. I head in, specifically looking for a Caribbean themed dress to wear to the upcoming Museum of Arts and Sciences ‘Passport to the Caribbean’ Fundraising Event. I stroll through racks of 1920’s to 1990’s clothes, thoughtfully organized by decade. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the most perfect 1950’s poodle skirt for $19.99, darling pink with a white statuesque poodle. I carry on to the fur section. Racks of the most beautiful vintage furs: minks, rabbits, and probably other types I am not familiar with, are overflowing. I would not buy modern fur, but I am smittened by a vintage mink stole I see luxuriously draped on its hanger. I try it on and fall in love. A rabbit fur jacket, that looks like it would fit my 7 year old, hangs beside the vintage mink stole. I try it on for fun, the sleeves end at my elbow, but really I have my heart set on the stole. It feels luxurious and soft to the touch and I find myself wondering who owned it previously, considering there may have been many owners over the decades. What was she like? What did she do for a living, or was she a traditional homemaker given the times? What grand events and parties might the stole have witnessed during the 50’s and 60’s?I love old things: old china, vintage lace tablecloths, lace napkins, handkerchiefs, old musty books, and I love old people - ‘senior citizen’ sounds more polite. I feel most at home with them. I am terrified of high schoolers, even more terrified of middle schoolers, and I enjoy children, but I especially love seniors. In college, I had to engage in many hours of community service and I chose nursing home visitation as my outreach. When I was 7, I befriended Mr. Donnelly, our widowed neighbor who was in his 80’s. I would go to his house almost every day after school and he would make mac n cheese and salisbury steak TV dinners for me. I’d often help him around his home; cleaning the bathrooms or climbing on kitchen cabinets to dust the tops of them. We never had a TV growing up, so every weekend I would spend most Saturdays watching My Little Pony and Care Bears in his living room.  You could do that sort of thing in the 80’s. I guess I must have told him fairly early on in our friendship that I liked Lucky Charms & Cap’n Crunch because he always had a stash of junk cereal for me. He had no grandchildren and I no grandparents, so it was a match made in heaven. I remember being devastated when he died. I was in high school by then, so he must have been in his 90’s. He had fallen off his bike while out on an afternoon ride, and though the injuries did not seem to be life threatening, he passed away a few weeks later. But we were talking about the stole. I began talking myself out of the vintage fur - really, where will I wear a vintage mink stole in Florida? While in the store, I google “is it acceptable to wear a mink stole?” knowing the controversy over wearing furs. I see many articles with yes it is and no it’s not. I decide to “think about it” and leave the store empty handed.

Down the Avenue, I tuck into Arlequin Antiques and Art, a speciality shop offering a fine selection of European Art. The store was badly damaged in the hurricane and about a foot of water had wrecked their treasured shelving, furniture and carpet. I find a special Egyptian gold framed Papyrus picture which reminds me of my years living in Cairo, Egypt. I scoop it up at first glance, carrying it around the store. The owners, a mother and daughter pair, named Colette and Caroline are welcoming and friendly. Arlequin Antiques holds an astonishing amount of antiques, vintage jewelry, art and a wonderful selection of blue and white china/porcelain, all varying prices for all budgets. I am an avid lover of all things blue and white and have collected many inexpensive pieces myself, but Arlequin has pieces that date back to the 1800’s, originals from Europe. You could say, the real deal. I find a gorgeous covered oval serving bowl, priced at $900, dating back to the late 1800’s. Again, not in the budget for my spur of the moment shopping trip on the Avenue. I enjoy conversing, learning about Arlequin antiques’ 30+ year history on Beach Street. I appreciate seeing an armoire and a rare vase that has been in the store since its opening. I must have asked far too many questions, as I came to find out the mother (speaking in a lovely French accent) and daughter had spent years traveling all around Europe finding rare art, china and porcelain, and a host of other treasures, all lovingly carted back from Europe and housed in this little treasure trove, all waiting for local people like us to come in and purchase. I buy the Framed Egyptian Papyrus and thanked the gracious owners for the lovely conversation and store tour.

My phone is ringing off the hook at this point, my children wondering why I have been delayed from work, when I will be home, and will they be late for gymnastics? Our sitter, Elizabeth, is due to leave, but kindly lets me arrive home a bit late. When I get home, the children looked at my bags and innocently ask, “What did you get us, mommy?” Wanting to pick up a little something for the children and my husband before leaving Beach Street, I popped into Angell and Phelps, an aroma filled chocolate shop, but the line is too long and I can’t wait. With 3 sweet faces staring at me hopefully, out of the bag comes the two mink hats which I gift to my girls; and for Brett, the Cloisonne bird. I think for sure he will hate it as soon as I hand it to him, its main colors teal and pink, but he gently holds it, examining it, then quickly finds a perfect place on the bookcase in the Formal Living Room where he places it so it can be displayed. Raegan loves her mink hat, but I believe Olivia, rather suspiciously, is on to me. Part FourThe following Saturday morning I wake up with the stole on my mind. I gather up the girls and tell them we were going for a mother-daughter day. We had been invited to join the girls friends’ at Cobb Theatre to watch a movie, but I decline, wanting to introduce my girls to something a little different. I tell them we were going out for an afternoon of “firsts”; places we had never been to, things we had never seen. I warn them ahead of time they will have to use their imaginations or they might be disappointed. We were not going to all the usual kids places; and they would have to rely on their senses and creativity to enjoy themselves. I tell them we will stop for French onion soup on our way back home. They are naturally curious as most of our outings are fairly predictable, and they must have asked me a million times where we were going, but I keep mum. Back to Beach Street I go, girls in tow.

We stop first at Nicole’s Beach Street mall as I know they have a large selection of vintage dolls and toys. Instructing they could each pick one thing, Raegan proceeds with caution, but Olivia wants everything in site. A vintage Minnie Mouse, then a purse, a vintage Barbie, then a pair of earrings, then a vintage Cabbage Patch doll, and a host of other things over the next half half hour. Finally they both decide on earrings. I can spend hours looking caringly through the china, but with the girls in tow, we move on. With the stole on my mind, we head to Moxie Vintage. The same nice looking young guy is there again today, manning the counter and store. I had not spoken to him on my previous visit as the store was filled with customers and he was engaged. I spot my mink stole and model it for my daughters. “It’s so soft”, encourages Olivia. The girls enjoy looking through the clothing racks, Raegan finding the same poodle skirt I had seen before. “Mommmmm looook”, she squeales, holding out the skirt. Raegan loves animals, particularly dogs, especially poodles, as our family has owned two on different occasions. The girls pick out earrings again, and we make our way to the register. My little Olivia, forever curious like me, asks the nice looking guy at the counter, “Is this your store?”. I thought for sure he would say no as he looks about 20, but surprisingly, he warmly smiles and says yes. I pay for my stole, affordably priced at $60. On our way out, Olivia knocks over the business card display and a big crash ensues, cards feathering down to the floor. He graciously tells her not to worry as they both crouch down to retrieve the cards. I immediately wonder if my mother, now 80 ever owned a stole and I send her a text message to enquire. She responds that she thought they were lovely and she does remember them being en vogue, but she indicates they were “for the wealthy” and she never owned one. I had a suspicion she wouldn’t have. Having been deeply religious since she was a teen, and always talking to us about not acquiring worldly goods, I presumed correctly she would have never owned a luxury fur. Later on that night, I ask my husband if his mother ever owned a fur. He lights up and specifically recounts the occasion his mother purchased her first fur, well into her married life. It was a “big deal” as he recalls; a momentous occasion. I adore my mother in law and imagine she might have felt the same bit of flutter as I have felt acquiring my vintage stole.

I wish to carry on to additional stores, but the girls are tired and hungry. Hopeful, I ask if they would be interested to eat at a place on the avenue, but they are expecting French onion soup, a favorite, so we begin heading back to the car. On our way there, a young tatoo-filled couple with brightly colored hair pass us on the sidewalk. I know Olivia is going to say something inappropriate so I do my best to distract her.Olivia is an old soul; she genuinely loves people and is never-endingly curious about them. She is observant and friendly. She notices everything and it blurts out of her adoringly cute mouth. “Mooommmm, they are SMOKING”, she says in disgust. I nod and say something forgettable and try to silence her as quickly as I can. Back in the car we head to Stonewoods, formerly Vince Carter’s. I had been to Stonewoods several months prior with my husband, attending a Pharmaceutical meeting with him. While there, I had seen French Onion Soup on the menu and had tucked it away in my memory bank. Our friend,

Heather Post

, who serves on our County Council, had given the girls a book on Etiquette. As we read through it, we came to a funny page about “how to eat french onion soup”, how to not slurp, how not to let the cheese string out a foot away from your mouth, etc. They giggled themselves silly at this page, so I promised them one day I would take them for french onion soup. I kept my promise and we tried 2-3 places but the cheese came shredded in the soup, so there was no “stringy” cheese to be had. Stonewood lays a flat, thick layer of cheese, so I knew this was our place for the girls to finally experience the etiquette of eating french onion “stringy cheese” soup. We sit and have the loveliest bowl of french onion soup. Our waitress is kind and chats warmly with the girls. She brings “sticky stix” for the girls to play with while they wait for the soup to arrive.The girls make all sorts of clever shapes and I try my hand at making a rainbow, octopus, and a few other mediocre creations. The girls enjoy their stringy french onion soup and all is well in the world. We head home, bellies full, having completed a nice afternoon of “firsts”. Final ThoughtsSo what is the point, you ask? I never intended to write this piece. After all who cares about reflections of ones shopping experience on Beach Street? It’s 3am as I finish writing. My eyelids are heavy and Olivia, the early bird, will be up before 7. But I believe in what I have just written, and have largely written this piece for the shop owners themselves. I’ve been a small business owner and let me tell you, it is tough. You are often a one man/woman band, cash flow is often tight and you depend on every single customer to come through your door. Hours are long and you will have never worked so hard in your life. And that is how you feel on a good day. Imagine the despair when your shop is flooded and you are working 16 hour days to clean up and try to get your shop re-opened. It’s easy to second guess yourself and wonder if this venture you've headed out on is worth it. So, I write this piece as an encouragement to all small business owners on Beach Street, and any other forgotten Main Street USA. And, truthfully, I do hope it has inspired a few who may see this to shop small local business if possible in favor of the big box stores. Like you, I have read for several years about our failing downtown Daytona Beach Street. I have read countless articles on revamping and revitalizing Beach Street. Thousands, if not millions, of dollars have been spent on trying to bring life back to this somewhat dreary and bleak portion of the city. I do not have the answers for how to do that. I have never worked with the homeless, and I don’t know a thing about downtown redevelopment. But I can tell you that if you will peer closely enough, the avenue on Beach Street is a delightful place; a little hidden gem, full of rich history, of store owners who are warm and engaging and long to connect with you, of proprietors that have a robust understanding of the world, our town, culture, and invaluable business experience with whom we can all learn very much. From a business perspective, I imagine what Collette and Chris might know and would have experienced in their 30 + years on the avenue. And I imagine what they might long to see again. Shops full of inquisitive and appreciative shoppers, friends gathering for brunch on the avenue, mom’s looking for that perfect gift for their little one. A date night out, dinner and drinks with colleagues and friends. There are lovely shops, wine bars and restaurants that are already welcoming patrons, but they need more of us to regularly show up and support them, not once a year when an event draws us to Beach Street. A vibrant main street can attract new businesses to the area and attract young professionals looking to live downtown. From there, the arts, culture and other aspects of city life, can begin to improve. The newly expected Brown & Brown building will do wonders to revive this area, and I so appreciate the intentional placement of their new headquarters downtown on Beach Street, coming in the near future. But in the meantime, we citizens have to patronize the shops. We have to intentionally go there and purchase from them and tell our friends about them. Instead of supporting a business we have no ties to, and who does not give back to our local community, we have to get in our cars and drive down to Beach Street. I like to call it ‘The Avenue on Beach Street’. It sounds much more luxurious and like a place I would actually want to frequent. Instead of going to Orlando for the day to buy from large retailers, or shopping online, I invite you to just try  Sisters Decor who carry a constant variety of affordable home offerings: gorgeous crystal chandeliers, beautiful wall art, unique furniture and other home furnishings.  You will be pleasantly surprised at how affordable it all is and what lovely pieces you can find.  If you can shop with an air of curiosity, and inquisitiveness, you will find something you love for yourself or something you will want to gift to a friend. And I can guarantee you will have delightful conversation. I challenge you to spend one weekend visiting the various shops on Beach Street (or up in Ormond Beach at Ms. Priss, or any other small business that operates in our area.) Enter with an open mind, and I know you will leave with a little nugget of something special. But if you happen upon any vintage Chanel, Dior, or Louis Vuitton, back away slowly. It’s mine and I’m coming for it. 

[raw-surf]

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