Stephen Foster Memorial: a brief history of the past.

This is an in-between post, because I've been so close to the SFM lately, and it kept feeling funnier until my funnyostomy bag was getting too full. Here's where I empty it.

We visited here eight years ago, and my mother INSISTED we go to the Stephen Foster Memorial. She woke us up to announce departure time. Somehow my 16-year-old son charmed his way out of the trip, which is a shame because he would have made it all better and worse at the same time.

I'll introduce the clip, Johnny. The museum houses several skillfully-constructed dioramas of Stephen Foster songs, a few of which, uh, offended me. Okay, okay, I get offended occasionally, just not as much as Snarky Duck. It's my elitist northeastern way.

A charming volunteer guide (I'll call her Marlene) approached us and asked if she could 'show us the moving parts in the dioramas.' She pointed to a large portrait and explained that it was "53 square feet in diameter." I read that Foster grew up in Pittsburgh, PA, and never got close to the Suwanee River, so I asked Marlene why he romanticized slavery so often in his music. She told me that he tried writing other kinds of songs, but the ones about the South made money, so he reverted to "Ethiopian verbiage."

Marlene led us outdoors so we could hear the beautiful carillon playing.
When these bells ring, my Christian burro brays.
Your Christian burro?
Yes ma'am! He's got a cross down his back just like Mary.

She and my mother hit it off right away, and began to talk about Jacksonville, from which they had both escaped. Marlene was horrified at the memory of the city: Children working at Pizza Hut, and death all around! For eight full years, this has been our shorthand for urban decay.

Squawmama provides a favorable and unsnarky review of the lovely park and the (now surely) more culturally-sensitive museum.
~~~~~

We celebrated the first day of Summer by floating down a cold, lazy river in inner tubes. More later. We want to go back.

Mea culpa ("the fault of the duck")

Snarky Duck couldn't appear this morning due to burning shame and a hangover.  She asked me to read this prepared statement:

I apologize for getting my paté in a wad.  I paddled around in Lake DeSoto, watched some waterfowl porno with free wifi from The Way Café, and had a few bugs while I chilled my tail feathers.  Snarky Duck needed an attitude adjustment, and I got one from my friend, DownWing Nicole.

Lookit, Snarky Duck can't be trussed!  It's like Patsy said:

Oh, the wayward Duck is a restless Duck
A restless duck that yearns to wander
And I was born to run amok
Run amok with the wayward Duck.

In a downy nest in a semi-truck
I spent my chicklet days
And I guess my youth as a trav'ling Duck
Made me a slave to my wand'ring ways. 

Oh, the wayward Duck is a restless Duck
A restless duck that yearns to wander
And I was born to run amok
Run amok with the wayward Duck.

Oh I met a duck in a border town
I vowed I wouldn't migrate
Tho' I tried my best to settle down
She's livin' with a tired old drake.

Oh, the wayward Duck is a restless Duck
A restless duck that yearns to wander
And I was born to run amok
Run amok with the wayward Duck.

Run amok with the wayward Duck.

Copyright 2011 Duck & Cline 

I hope we can put this behind us, but SD is flighty.

Bob, that's a good price for a magnum of wine you enjoy.  Duke, you are close enough for a cigar;  this is Oak Leaf merlot's trashy sister, Oak Leaf Sweet Red.  You know that New Yorkers are snooty about their wine, which is the main reason we left.

Judy and Merikay, this is a good place to be, and it's my job to enjoy myself while we're here.  While, Nina.  While.

Annie and I had a date night last night.  Reese's McFlurries and Glee in the public parking lot downtown. We sneaked home before midnight.  The people who work in the Lake City McDonald's are uncharacteristically pleasant and personable.  When I went inside to use their bathroom, I realized it was because they listen to 70's disco while they work.  You just can't be crabby singing Ring it!  Ring it! RingItRingIt!  Ahhh!  Try it right now, in case you're building up a snark.

I would like to enrich the Healthcare page, so if you have a resource to share, please leave a comment.  You can comment here or there, but why not do both?

Ugly Duck

Today's post is written by guest blogger, The Snarky Duck.  She scares me, and that's why I let her write.

Tomorrow will bring us up to four weeks in Lake City, Florida.  Here's why that's good:

• We are very comfortable
• Camphosts are generous with electricity
• Swimming pool
• Fresh fruit and vegetables from the garden
• Laundry facilities
• Sunshine
• Sunshine
• Sunshine
• Free parking
• My favorite wine costs $2.77.

Lake City has a cute downtown that's two blocks long.   It's perfect for a week's stay, because the quaint is still new when you roll out of town.  It also has a Food Lion, a Publix, a WalMart, a Lowe's, and Coke Icees. On Monday I went to the mall with nothing to shop for.


I've been here so long I've started thinking it would be fun to go to church.   

There is plenty of diversity.  There are pink people and there are brown people, and they are all Baptists.  

You know how you see some woman in a bikini, and she looks really good and then you notice the scary, irregular mole on her back?  That mole?  It's us. It doesn't fit in, and should be removed surgically.  You know how you see some guy in a Speedo?  That Speedo?  It's me.  Just barely holding in something no one wants to see.


There are good reasons for staying a while longer, and Annie will talk about them later, when Snarky Duck is drunk and happy.