I know it’s only just turned spring, but the clock is moving fast as the year goes by. And since I mentioned the “Summer of Discovery” in a previous blog, I probably should explain a little about it for those who don’t know. Besides, it’s never too early to start thinking about the next vacation, is it? Sometimes that’s the only thing that helps get us through some of those especially rough days at work.
So, ok, what is this whole thing about discovering summer anyway? The Summer of Discovery is the name for some serious deals offered to tourists who don’t mind a little extra heat. Just come visit us sometime from June through the end of September. By going to www.sunny.org/summer, you can download two-for-one coupons for some great places to go. We’re talking about entertainment and recreation. Adventure and relaxation. Or maybe a look at Florida’s past.
The special deals include two-fers at nightspots such as Laffing Matters, with a satirical dinner show, or the Mai-Kai, where you can dine and sip tropical cocktails while watching a wonderful Polynesian revue. You can take a day cruise or go fishing or learn to scuba dive. All two-for-one. Or enjoy the bargains at golf courses or an indoor karting track. Maybe you’d like to venture into the Everglades at Billie Swamp Safari, spending the night in a chickee hut. There are specials on spas and movies. And Florida’s history? Your options include the Stranahan House, a former trading post on the New River, and the Ah-Tah-Thi-Ki Museum about the Seminole people. South Florida may be a little warmer in the summer but the deals are cool. All you need to do is sit somewhere by the water in between all those fun things. With a frozen daiquiri in your hand, believe me, you won’t care less about the heat.
The great British poet, T.S. Eliot, wrote that, “April is the cruelest month.” Actually, he spelled it “cruellest,” but that’s the British version of the language for you. Anyhow, April always gets lots of attention for some reason. Remember “April in Paris”? And then there’s April Fool’s Day. Shakespeare was born in April and so was Buddha. I also might point out that the last week in April is officially National Lingerie Week, for what it’s worth to you. But I’ve always felt April is a special month in South Florida too. Honestly, I think it’s often one of the very best months here for weather.
When you live in a sunny, year-round tropical climate, it’s tough to pinpoint any period as “best,” let alone just one month. Any time I raise the issue of “best weather month” with locals, I get an argument. “Really?” they reply, “well, yeah, April’s nice. But I kinda prefer …” And here you can fill in the blank with any of these months: January, February, March, November, December. I’ve heard residents say they like the hot summer months best. Ok, fair enough. We all have our personal tastes. But I’m making my case here for April. To me, April isn’t cruel. It’s inviting.
I usually find that April in Fort Lauderdale is a perfect blend. It’s not quite that cool bring-a-jacket kind of weather. But it’s not that hot wear-mostly-shorts kind of weather yet either. The humidity normally is low. So you still can comfortably put on spring clothes, things with long sleeves and heavier fabrics. I live with my windows open in April but never need to run the heat. (Yes, local residents do use heating systems in South Florida – maybe, like, two or three times a year. For about a half hour at a clip.) There isn’t much, if any, rain as a rule. All that ultra-pleasant weather can continue right on into early May, which should be promising for the big Air & Sea Show on May 5 and 6 this year. So yes, I continue to live in Fort Lauderdale because I love the climate throughout the year better than anywhere else in the country. But if pressed for a favorite month based purely on weather, I nominate April. Let the debate begin.
I had been writing all day and decided I needed a break. So I lowered the top on my convertible, cruised up A1A to Las Olas, then headed downtown before finally ending up at the Riverfront. On a whim, I decided to park and take a walk around. Just a little stretch for my legs. But the next hour offered me more than a stretch. It became one of those memorable Fort Lauderdale experiences.
I strolled along SE 2nd Street, passing all the bars and restaurants and nightclubs that already hummed with crowds by 7:30 p.m. When I got near the Museum of Discovery and Science, I wandered over to the New River and found a free wooden bench to just hang for a while. The temperature was about perfect by my standards, with a slight coolness to keep me comfortable in long sleeves. The sky was a rich, cloudless blue. Joggers puffed past me. Bicyclists lazily wheeled along the curving Riverwalk that lines one edge of the water. Nicely dressed couples chatted on their way to some concert. The Broward Center for the Performing Arts was lighted for the occasion, an imposing presence rising nearby to the west. Across the river, the tall luxury condo buildings looked imposing too.
As I sat there, I noticed that the palm trees were losing their details in the slowly fading light, increasingly just silhouettes against dabs of rose and purple in the sunset sky. Walkers smiled or said hello to me. A woman paused to smell a flower. An artist pushed a wide, babyless baby stroller loaded with paintings that he probably hoped to sell at the Las Olas Riverfront. Above the Broward Center, the planet Venus was visible, the first bright nightglow of the evening. The rose and purple melted away and a few stars emerged from the haze of city lights as a boat slowly motored up the river. The palm trees now appeared flat and featureless black, but the condo buildings were brightening as residents turned on their lamps. It was 8:30 already, the end of this lovely Riverfront twilight. And it was time to go home.
A Note: If you haven't checked out our new kids blog, maybe you should take a look. It's at www.sunny.org/lauderkids. I write these brief stories especially for kids but I think some of you may enjoy them too. Just don't let your kids catch you reading their special blog!
This is the dreaded Tax Day. The Internal Revenue Service expects us each to do our duty and pay up now. Personally, I've filed for an extension. Though I would like to stress one small point for any blog readers who may work for the IRS: "I really do report all my income, sir or madam, and my deductions are all legitimate. Thank you for listening." In my experience, Tax Day is a good day for adult beverages. Preferably a strong type, like ouzo. It's also a good day for partying to forget the federally mandated pain. As a public service, then, I would like to offer one suggestion.
It's called Taverna Opa. Actually, THEY are called Taverna Opa, to be more precise. Two locations along the Intracoastal Waterway in Broward rev up the fun well into the morning hours. At both the original Hollywood address and the newer place on the Intracoastal in Fort Lauderdale, there's always a party. As you've no doubt guessed, Taverna Opa is a Greek restaurant. But it's more than that. Their mission is to put into raucous practice the Greek passion for living life with joy. The food is good, and the list of drinks is long. But that's not really why you go to Taverna Opa. You need to prepare yourself for table dancing and showers of paper napkins along with your moussaka.
I was at the Fort Lauderdale restaurant (just south of Oakland Park Boulevard) just the other night with a good friend. We sat at a table by the water on a warm, pleasant night. But only after slipping carefully around a group of waiters and waitresses who were Greek dancing their way through the restaurant to booming music. A belly dancer was working her way around too, tinkling her finger cymbals and doing that amazing undulating thing they do. Every now and then, the manager or someone would grab a huge stack of napkins and toss them into the air, shouting "OPA" as they scattered everywhere. My friend and I were there relatively early and left after a couple of hours. But if you really want to experience this place, go later in the evening when the crowds and dancing and napkin-throwing get wilder. It's common to see the wait staff pull guests on top of tables for an energetic dance or two. Shots flow freely and there's lots of "opa" shouting and the music seems to get louder and louder.
As I said, you don't go there just for the food. It's a place to drink, laugh and party the night away. What could be a better way to forget about Tax Day for another year?
This seems strange to me. Last week was the day we call "Good Friday." This week, we have Friday the 13th. Which of course might mean this is "Bad Friday." At least you could think it's bad if you're superstitious. Or a fan of horror movies. Who knows what will happen on a day like this? But it doesn't seem so bad to me. Even though I'm in the process of a local move, which is never any fun. To me, this just seems like another good Friday.
I've been renting a great little home near the 17th Street Causeway for the past two years. My landlord needs the house for his business, which is expanding from the home next door. Oh well. That's life. No one likes to move and I can't say I enjoy it much, having packed and unpacked all my belongings many times in my life. I'm still in the process of hunting for just the right place. (Hey, if you're looking for a good tenant and have something nice on the east side of town, let me know!) Anyway, all this driving around, calling phone numbers listed on "For Rent" signs, exploring different neighborhoods - all of it has made me realize even more strongly how much I love living here. I wouldn't want to move anywhere else in this country.
Funny, isn't it? Sometimes a bit of hassle in your life helps you more fully appreciate the things you care about. I care about going to the ocean easily and frequently. I care about waking up to sunshine day after day, all year long. I care about the sensuous romance of the tropics, the sexy anything-can-happen ambience that permeates South Florida. And I care about the future of this exciting corner of the world. I really do. That's why I write this blog. As a writer, I could live anywhere in the United States. All I need is a good computer and a high-speed hookup. And it would be very easy for me to relocate south to Miami-Dade County or north to Palm Beach County. But for 18 years, something has drawn me to Broward County and always managed to keep me here. I know why: I truly love Fort Lauderdale. More all the time, as the city offers an increasingly sophisticated yet casual lifestyle. It seems to me that when I'm able to live in a place I love so much, life can't be too bad. Even if I have to move, I'm moving around here. So how can today be anything for me except another good Friday?
It was a fabulous weekend at Fort Lauderdale beach. Clear blue skies and calm seas and cool breezes.
Has it really been snowing somewhere in this country? Yes, it has. Snowing, very cold or both - and in major cities. Did you see the Cleveland Indians baseball players, dressed in their uniforms and making snow angels? Places in Ohio had more than two feet of snow on Easter. The same day, Atlanta shivered with a wind chill of 23 degrees. As I write this on Monday, Chicago is expecting snow flurries, nearly three weeks into spring. When you live in Fort Lauderdale, you forget how nasty the weather can get in many areas of the United States even long after winter has ended.
As I think back about coming down here for my job interview at the Fort Lauderdale newspaper in 1989, some of my most vivid memories involve the change in weather. I was working as a TV reporter at a CBS affiliate in Burlington, Vermont and wanted to get back into newspaper journalism. I also seriously wanted to stop living in what felt like a frozen meat locker for half the year. I remember leaving a distinctly cold Burlington on an early morning flight, changing planes in chilly Boston and landing in Fort Lauderdale for lunch with one of the editors. I was wearing a jacket of some kind. But the air suddenly was, like . warm. I don't know exactly what I expected in Florida. But I do know that I marveled at the temperature and the clear, sunny skies. I had gone straight from late winter to early summer.
Except that it wasn't winter at all. My interview happened on May 10th. That should tell you a lot about the weather in Vermont. And here. Everywhere I went in Fort Lauderdale, there was sunshine. I felt like my face was soaking up rays, storing them for use after going home to Burlington. I stayed downtown at the Riverside Hotel and that night, after my interviews, I wandered the north bank of the New River, looking up at the palm trees and admiring the yachts tied there. About this time, I thought to myself, "I really want this job! I really want to live here!" I did get the job, of course, and I've been here ever since. But I haven't forgotten what it's like to get hit with a late burst of winter when all you want is summer.
That happened to me many times when I lived up north. All I can say is, hang in there. Or better, come down for a visit if you can. Summer is already here, waiting for you any time.
Remember when you were a kid? I do. Everything was new, and often a little strange. And sometimes more than a little scary. Experience and knowledge give us confidence as we grow older. We’ve been there, we’ve done that. Or at least we have learned something about it along the way – whatever “it” happens to be. Not so when we’re children. For many years, everything we do is a first. The first plane trip, the first move to a different city, the first school dance, the first kiss. We can smile now as we think back about the awkwardness of it all, the sheer innocent ignorance of our youth.
But there was excitement in the process of discovery too. That also was part of being a kid. And that will be a big part of something new here on www.sunny.org just for young readers. Called “LauderKids,” our weekly blog follows the adventures of three fictional friends who live in greater Fort Lauderdale. Juliette, Isabella and Spencer will explore this amazing part of the world, discovering its beauty and thrills and dangers. Through their eyes, real young folks will discover new things too. From the Everglades, where the series opens, to Butterfly World, from the beach to Las Olas and much more – kids now can learn about the true-life wonders of South Florida in a way that will make them want to keep reading each week. They also will have the chance to share their own thoughts about travel, offering tips and ideas about where to go and what to see in greater Fort Lauderdale.
All they have to do is log on to www.sunny.org/lauderkids every Friday. I’m very much looking forward to creating these stories, which are aimed at kids from about seven to 14-years-old. Most of the 23 juvenile books I’ve authored, including ten novels, have been for that same age group. Maybe I still am a 12-year-old myself in some ways. I’m not sure. But I do know that I’ll have fun writing this series of blogs, short chapter by short chapter. They should provide an educational, wholesome, but also fun experience for kids on the Web. Who knows – you might even enjoy reading these exciting tales, whatever your age. It’ll all be something new, and maybe a little scary sometimes too. Just like being a kid again.
The sea is always changing, of course, shifting through currents of moody beauty. Tranquil and blue one day, irritable and green the next. But the land around the sea also changes. That’s especially true in Fort Lauderdale, where the tides of tourists ebb and flow through the year, sometimes crowding every available inch of shoreline, sometimes fanning out along the beach to savor a bit more privacy. This weekend, the place was packed. The people on the sidewalks, the cars in the streets. Even the lounge chairs on the beach, lined up shoulder to shoulder. It was throbbing with tourists and locals who were enjoying the great weather.
But this was the first time I had noticed something else that’s new at the Fort Lauderdale beach. The lovely entrance to A1A at the end of Las Olas Boulevard is open. Crews had been working on this project for months, digging and planting and paving. This key intersection has long needed some sprucing up. Now it’s spruced. And very pretty.
Before now, Las Olas simply ran from the upscale downtown area, over the gorgeous Intracoastal Waterway – and then stopped at the beach road, a patch of old gray pavement and little else. Now, the street looks clean and new, with a median of red and blue flowers and tropical shrubs. And now, both sidewalks are paved in brick, just like the sidewalk along the sea. And now, there’s a row of tall graceful palm trees on each side of the street. It makes for a much more impressive gateway to the Atlantic Ocean. I’ve always thought Las Olas is a beautiful street anyway, especially in the café and shopping district downtown. Leafy trees running along the median, shading blocks of small shops and charming restaurants. Now there’s a punctuation point at the end of the street. It’s saying, "Welcome to the Fort Lauderdale beach!"