Ormond Beach

Sunday December 5, 2014

Ormond Beach looking toward Daytona Beach

We've been in Ormond Beach for 5 days now, and for several of them we were shut-ins because of the weather. We haven't had it nearly as bad as the rest of the country, but we have gone from balmy to near freezing temps overnight, with days of overcast and rain. Only today has it warmed up enough and the sun come out to spark a little optimism.

Ormond Beach impresses positively. The A1A is the coastal road that goes between the mainland and the land that fronts the ocean. The water in between is called the Intracoastal Waterway, and at Ormond Beach it is called the Halifax River. Further north toward St. Augustine the name changes to the Matanzas River. All along the stretch of the A1A are the small towns like Ormond Beach, the more famous Daytona Beach, and New Smyrna and so on.

I like Ormond Beach because it doesn't seem  as commercial and overbuilt as Daytona. It's easy to get to the beach, you can drive your car right onto it, and it feels like "your" beach, not the property of some monolithic condo squatting right behind you. Those types of buildings are very apparent in Daytona, and you can easily see them, and how they seem to stop at the city line of Ormond.  I don't know if that's a function of economics or building codes.

The city also put in a very nice park called the Andy Romano Beachfront Park. There is plenty of parking, a playground for kids and picnic tables. From here it's easy to walk or bicycle up the 20+ miles of beach.

View of Andy Romano Park from the beach

My future:

Bottle caps on the Beach

For New Year's Eve the park sponsored a get together in the club house, the only requirement being that you brought hors d'oeuvres of some sort. The party began at 6 p.m. I went with my chips and dip. Peg was the one who was feeling unsocial that night so I left her to her own devices.

Gene

Gene was on the Yamaha synthesizer playing old favorites and taking requests. There were several attempts at sing-alongs. There was no alcohol served, but you wouldn't know that by the quality of most of the singing. Gene is something like 86 years old and a retired musician by trade. He has certainly kept his chops. I can't remember much of what he played, but Rocky Top seemed to be a persistent request from the floor. One of the fellas there told me he like Iron Butterfly. I said "Oh, yeah, In a Gadda Da Vida." He looked at me sort of surprised, said he loved that song, used to play it every day. He said they were supposed to sing "In The Garden of Eden" but they were so stoned they couldn't get the words out. I didn't know that I told him. I said we should request "Free Bird". He liked that idea.

I mostly sat by myself for a good 15 to 20 minutes. It felt longer. Smiling, saying Hi and trying to look like I belonged. It's hard without Peg. I usually hide behind her "socialism". I am not social by nature.

Most of the people here, and there were about 20 at the party, are permanent residents, or at least seasonal, so they know each other well. I may have been the youngest person there. The true youngsters have better places to be on New Year's Eve. You can tell who are the young ones around here because they all seem to ride Harleys.

Eventually a couple sat down next to me and we got to talking. Norm and Linda are their names and they are from Maine. I did not call them Maniacs. They've lived down here for 18 years, I think now pretty permanently. They have children both here and in Maine and used to go back and forth, but it's all about the weather, you know, so they pretty much stay put year 'round. From the story Norm stated telling about his son and beer on the beach it became apparent that Norm was once a cop in the town whose name he told me  but I didn't catch. I've noticed that I'm getting more and more hard of hearing, especially in situations like this, with lots of people talking and lots of echo. I find myself smiling and nodding in agreement like I know what's going on. Someday I may find that I've agreed to do, eat or buy something unpleasant or loan money to someone unpleasant just because I couldn't hear and didn't want to let on.

I don't know how long the party went on, but I left after about an hour. I didn't want to be the first on out the door, so I was there a little longer than intended. I said some pleasedtameetchas, grabbed my dip, which hadn't been touched, and went home. Peg was balancing her checkbook, apparently having had more fun than I did.

Waiting for a Mexican Train

Friday Peg got her Mexican Train fix at the Senior Center. It was a very cold day. The game room was overheated and empty when we arrived. Eventually three more players showed up and they began play. But after awhile they abandoned Mexican Train for Rummikub, a game Peg had never played. They were eager to teach her. She likes it, but says it makes her think too hard. They are going to play again on Monday. After about an hour of play they stopped for a break. Next door the bingo game was on, and at 2 p.m. they break for snacks. The game ladies went next door to help themselves to bingo snacks. I hung out at the other end of the room on my laptop.

Mexican Train players

On Sunday Bob and Nancy stopped by on their way from Savannah to Epcot. We went to lunch at a local German restaurant which we'd passed by the other day. It's a small place in a converted old house, decor is mostly flea market German, but with one fairly bizarre mural on one wall. As near as I can translate one says "Confessing your sins" and the other says "The calm before the storm".

 The restaurant specializes in various kinds of schnitzel. I had a cordon blue schnitzel, Peg and Bob both had meat loaf and Nancy had pirogi. After that meal of beer and schnitzel I told Bob I was ready to go home and nap. Bob, looking forward to a 2 hour drive, told me to shut up.

It was a great visit and lunch, really good to see them. Afterwards we went down to the local beach front park for pictures.