The Humidor of Ramon Carbajal

Enter the premises and the immediate waft of Cuba wraps a warm blanket around your cold stiff shoulders, the Cuba of another generation when the taste of sweet spiced rum dripped from your lips and the uplifting sounds of merengue music slithered around colorful casas directly into your soul.

The scent of aged cedar ramparting through the nostrils sends signals to the brain to slow down and relax, as my rigid body softens and becomes one with the third generation leather sofa I forget about the outside world and its constant electronic demands, I can no longer hear the parade of vehicles or the drumbeat of stamping feet. I have peace with a side of quiet.

Ramon Carbajal has survived 2 wars and has the scars to prove it, his features are as aged as the leather in his cigar store, his visage is at the same time both cold and warm, it is this humidor that keeps him breathing, this humidor is his heart and his soul. No words were spoken or even necessary when I entered the humidor, Ramon lifted his head from behind the counter and nodded.

I am presented with a ceramic serving tray adorned with the flags of America and Cuba, on the ceramic tray is an velvet lined cigar box with a selection of cigars that would make the most cold hearted dictator smile from ear to ear like a boy on his birthday. Still no words have been uttered between Ramon and myself, just an automatic obligatory head nod and the wheels of communication between two men of different cultures are linked.

Ramon's humidor is a time portal back to yesteryear when men made decisions on politics and war and women brought trays sticky with clear glasses of golden liquid merrily to their aid. Children dodged large metal cars on cobbled steamy streets with open air markets and rich tourists wasted their money on straw hats and cheap jewelry. The aroma of Ropa Vieja cooking on an open grill surrounded by lush gardens and the merengue music constantly in the background to remind even the most downtrodden that music and dance were still free and belonged to the masses. I wish I knew Ramon back then.

My cigar is finished and my time on the leather has come to an end. I peel myself from the sofa like a patient from a therapists office and make my way to the door, I try to absorb every emotion as I open the door to the outside world - the cedar and the leather, the music and Ramon at his counter. I nod, he nods.

Sunlight, noise, voices, vehicles.....fuck. I contemplate going back inside for more therapy but decide that would dilute the grandeur of the next experience.
I walk away.

Ramon Carbajal 1930 - 2012

Rest In Peace Mi Amigo...

Next In Line Please...

To answer the question of where I have been and why I have not been blogging lately,
please read the following post. This is real.
Cheers, Sausage...

Another day with Polyendocrine deficiency type 2 aka Schmidt's Syndrome also known as a lovely combination of hypothyroidism and adrenal insufficiency. Another day of ups and downs, highs and lows and the recurring roller coaster of emotions that accompany me through my diseased journey.  It is hard to believe that 20 years have passed since I was diagnosed with this bullshit, 20 years since Uncle Sam told me to get off his battleship and don't come back, 20 long years of pills and pharmacy lines behind old people, sick people and me telling myself I am not like them. I am not diseased just misdiagnosed by under qualified lab coat wearing clowns pimping for the pharmaceutical whores who line their lab coats with lies and dollars.

The last five years have been the most difficult with altered dosages and mood swings, the type of mood swings that can take a man from the pinnacle of happiness to the wearing of a hockey mask along with the desire to machete the limbs off of complete strangers. Now when I think of Jason Vorhees or Michael Meyers touting their talents on the good people of the world I stop and ask myself...I wonder what dosage they take...

The wary quest continues to find a cure but none will ever be found, the closest we came was when Oprah Winfrey was diagnosed with a thyroid disease and the national media groveled at her feet weeping over her symptoms and we were spotlighted for about a month.  Soon after that the lights flickered and went out and moved on to some freak who's uterus fast tracked 8 babies and now has a reality show.

It could always be worse, my disease is not life threatening not even a disease just a lowly syndrome but one that pushes and bullies the emotions mafia style - take the pills and shut up....Next in line please.....

Gentlemen, no need to fight I have plenty of refills

I just flew in from Key West and boy are my arms tired

The sign at the airport read - Buy 1 hat get 1 free. Who could pass on such a deal? 

Ever needed a break so badly that once on that break you
considered going native and falling off the grid?
Well I did but decided to come back and join the matrix again
mainly because the "Voices" in the noggin told me to, so after
a few bloggless months the sabbatical is over.
More to follow...
Cheers, Sausage.

Swimming in their kitchen

The saying my life flashed before my eyes is one that you don't expect to experience but when it does you get the sense that the person that coined it nailed it.

Marineland, Florida, 2011

Marineland back in 1963

Just south of St. Augustine Florida is Marineland, built in 1938 it was Florida's first marine park and boasts the worlds first oceanarium.
The family and I took a day trip to Marineland beach, a spectacular and surprisingly secluded spot on Florida's crowded east coast, the following event caused the me to change my ocean going habits...

12:25 Saturday.
The four of us are playing in the shallow surf about knee deep, the water is very clear almost crystal and my oldest son wants to swim out to the sandbar.
The sandbar is roughly 125 yards from shore and is visible from the beach, many people swim out there and relax for a while before the tide changes. This is something we have done many many times in the past without hesitation, we are all strong swimmers and both my children have grown up in the water and will probably grow gills someday but after this experience we will never do it again. We all made the swim and are now standing on the sandbar, it is quite unique and ethereal to be that far out and standing ankle deep in the ocean, after 10 minutes we decided to head back.

We start swimming in a line with my wife and I on the outside and the boys in the middle, about 30 seconds after we departed the sandbar my life flashed before my eyes.
I looked behind me and saw a shark!!!!
How big you ask? well lets just say if sharky wanted to lie down on your sofa he would not fit, that according to the flash measurement I guessed at while trying to beat the best time of Michael Phelps with a child under one arm. I grabbed one son and my wife grabbed the other, without trying to alarm them I screamed for everyone to move and move fast, swimming with a child in one arm while a shark is behind you is akin to walking on quicksand the more I vehemently paddled the more I seemed to be stationary. My wife not doing any better I waited for contact with the shark feeling at any moment that one of us would be the next statistic on the shark attack file for the year.

We finally made it back to the welcoming shore, the panic still fresh it infused me to the core and I could have stopped breathing right there and then. I felt sadness that I put my family in such jeopardy, swimming out to the sandbar is a right of passage down here and we were one of a dozen or more people out there the shark just happened to tail us and not the others.

That evening after a few glasses of  calm down juice aka Bunnahabhain  I researched the habits of Florida sharks and found that some sharks patrol the areas between the sandbar and the shore for bait fish. One of the suspects was the Sand bar shark, how apropos. Other suspects were the hammerhead, the blacktip, and most frighteningly the bull shark an ultra aggressive killer type shark up there in status with the great white.

So I put that on the list of things not to do again, especially with children. Even yesterday I saw families camped out on the sandbar about the same distance that we had the encounter. I did mention the experience to some of them and they waived me off as some kook. Good luck.

My whole life did not flash in front of my eyes but I did see things that have happened in the past, that phenomenon surely is a strange one.

Somewhere out in the deep blue sea a shark is telling a tale of the day he almost caught a Sausage in his kitchen, not today sharky....not today.

A killer among us...the bull shark.

Christmas Card Time

Florida Snowman

Ready for the holiday season? well according to the ads on the television the big day is right around the corner. I just paid off last years bills and here we bloody go again, anyway I wanted to do a christmas card list this year any takers?
E-mail me your address and I will return mine, no worries I won't sell you out to a telemarketing company or show up at your door when the wifey chucks me out..or will I?
Cheers, Sausage...

In advance I offer a merry or happy __________________ whatever you celebrate.