LauderBlog

It is September 1st, coconut lovers! Yes, it's coconut season again, that time we've all been waiting for. If you're out of town reading this blog, well, I just wish you could be here for the harvest. At the stroke of midnight, happy teams of coconut pickers began to climb the tall and graceful coconut palms all over Greater Fort Lauderdale. Often two or three "coconut snatchers" will shinny up the same trunk to hand pick the heavy fruit, tossing it carefully to the waiting "coconut catchers" below. Experienced catchers know to wear thick canvas gloves - and hard hats. Ok, ok. Ha! I'm having a little fun with you today. Mostly because I've been thinking about coconuts lately. And because, in truth, it's always coconut season in South Florida. The darn things grow year round like weeds or something.

So September 1st seemed a good time for a bloggy paean to the coconut. This date has historical significance of varying sorts, of course, such as being the anniversary of the beginning of World War Two. But I say forgive and forget. The coconut seems a much more pleasant topic for Hump Day, don't you think?

Anyway, I'm always fascinated by coconuts. It's probably the transplanted northerner in me. Hey, I grew up in the Midwest thinking that coconut existed in the form of  little slivers in plastic bags sold at grocery stores. I remember when my dad visited Florida on business and brought me back a coconut in the husk. Before this, I had no idea what coconuts really looked like. I needed a hammer and screwdriver and lots of effort to get at that coconut's milk, which mostly spilled out when I broke the thing open. Now I live beside a 40-foot coconut palm that is filled with the fruit throughout the year. (Yes, it is fruit by the way. I looked it up.) Every once in a while, I hear a big THUD and know another one bit the dust. On occasion, I'll actually be sitting nearby to watch a brown coconut fall from the tree to the grass beneath. Trust me, you do not want to be knocked in the noggin by a falling coconut - at least not from this tall palm. On the beaches, workers come around to trim the coconut palms for this very reason, just so you tourists won't take a nasty knock. There is much to say about the wonderful coconut and I feel the topic deserves revisiting for another blog soon. Along with our beaches and our sunshine and our palm trees, coconuts are symbols of the tropical lifestyle we enjoy down here. Plus, they're obviously an important part of our economy. Without them, what would all those experienced coconut snatchers and coconut catchers do for work?

Life is getting better for South Florida dogs. And getting cooler too. If you're not from around these parts, you may be surprised to learn that dogs aren't allowed on most of Greater Fort Lauderdale's gorgeous beaches. If you think about it for a moment, though, you'll quickly understand why. Quite frankly, the doggy ban is part of the reason the beaches are gorgeous. I was at the Fort Lauderdale beach this morning and it was clean and lovely as always - and dogless. But now, dog lovers, there's a spot for your special pal to practice that dog paddle. It is a jumping dock for dogs only. Neat, huh? This 40-foot dock is more than two feet above the water at Tigertail Lake Park, located at 280 Gulf Stream Way in Dania Beach. That's just behind Bass Pro shops near Griffin Road.

Picture Fido leaping into the air for that Frisbee you tossed, snatching it in his jaws and flopping happily into the water. That's just the kind of thing this dock was built to handle. For hot pups in the heat of summer, life just got distinctly better.

This delightful idea came about through the efforts of a group called Performance Pups Inc. You can check out their website at http://performancepupsinc.com/ You'll find a calendar that gives days and times for the dock jumping, which generally happens from 6-8 p.m. on Mondays and during varying weekend hours. It costs $10 on weekends and $5 on those Monday evenings. Not a bad deal to cool off your Jack Russell or Black Lab or whatever. Honestly, most dogs in South Florida seem to have it pretty good. Usually. The old phrase "a dog's life" used to suggest a lowly sort of existence. Not any more, not in this society. These days, dogs are chauffeured around in baby strollers and served hand cooked meals of organic food. They go to doggy dentists and doggy therapists and get doggy cosmetic surgery. Don't ask me my personal views about all this - you don't want to know. Nonetheless, my point is that dogs are treated like family anymore. Better than family in many cases. But with all this water around our area, doggy swimming still is a problem. If it's not off-limits beaches, then it's canals and lakes that may be dangerous. As in, alligator dangerous. Enough said. This Dania dock-jumping lake is alligator free and just waiting for your panting dog to leap into its waters. Sounds like a good thing to me. I may not be big on dogs in baby strollers but in sunny, summery Florida even pooches need a refreshing dip now and again.

These are summer's lazy days. So I want to offer a thought for South Florida tourists. And maybe for South Florida residents too. Sure, yes, this is a fine time of year for a long morning at one of Greater Fort Lauderdale's Blue Wave beaches. Or for sitting at a waterside café with a Happy Hour mojito. But just now, when the heat and humidity reach their seasonal peak and when afternoon tropical cloudbursts are common ... now is also a fine time for a good flick. Of course it's easy enough to open the newspaper and pick out a theater that's near wherever you happen to be. But Fort Lauderdale draws an increasingly sophisticated crowd of tourists who may want something more than the latest Hollywood action picture. Tourists who prefer a quality independent or foreign film but who probably have no idea where to find that.

So I'm about to tell you. And for the locals who already know the Broward County art houses, I'm going to make a suggestion that may help you enjoy these lazy days I mentioned. It won't be long before the heat will begin to dissipate and we'll move toward autumn weather. Right now is the perfect time for summer cinema.

First, for the tourists among you: there are three movie theaters where you can find some of those independent or foreign films you're looking for. The most reliable art fare is at Cinema Paradiso at 503 SE Sixth Street in Fort Lauderdale, 954-525-3456. This is a place that only screens the kind of movies we're talking about. Right now, for instance, one of two films at Cinema Paradiso is "Jean-Michel Basquiat: The Radiant Child." I'm not familiar with that particular movie but anything that focuses on the life of this famous street artist clearly won't be mainstream fare. The other theaters you might want to check out include the Gateway at 1820 East Sunrise Boulevard, Fort Lauderdale, 954-763-7994 as well as Sunrise Eleven at 4321 Pine Island Road, Sunrise, 954-748-0333. Each frequently shows films that wouldn't have a chance of making the screen at other local theaters - I've seen many quality flicks at both of these moviehouses. So, ok, the tourists among you know where to enjoy a cool cinematic break from the beach. But as for you locals? My idea is just this: take the afternoon off during the work week and head to the movies for a matinee. Bail out of the office early some day, maybe, or call in sick for one full Mental Health Day or whatever. It feels decadent. And delightful. That's especially true in the summer, I find, when it's so refreshing to sit in a dark air conditioned theater during a blistering afternoon. I did this myself just a week or so ago after a grueling week. When I walked out of that movie theater, believe me, I felt better. Sometimes a summer cinema can be just what the doctor ordered.

South Florida is a place of moments. Big moments sometimes. But often little moments too. This is how our part of the world feels to me. There is something unexpected about these experiences, instants that are often beautiful and on occasion almost surreal among the tropics. When they happen, and they happen to me frequently, I am startled in some way. I've shared many such moments in these blogs. The way I see it, the same kind of moments are there for any of us to discover around here. We just have to be open to them. Maybe it's stopping at a red light on A1A and noticing a beautiful girl running with a beachball toward the sea, appearing as perfect as if in some TV commercial. Or maybe it's the amber arc of an autumn cloud at sunset over the Everglades.

Or maybe it's a summertime swim when the moon takes your breath away. As always with these moments, there was nothing planned, nothing anticipated. I was just there, in the water, enjoying the twilight fade of sunlight to one side and the glow of a pale silver moon rising on the other side.

It was the kind of thing that might have happened anywhere around Greater Fort Lauderdale. In the ocean or in a pool. But on this night, at this moment, I was swimming in a pool all alone. The sky already was dramatic, the lightest of blues in a dome far overhead with clumps of heavy clouds drifting beneath. Some of these clouds floated in shades of dark blue mixed with black, others moved in tones of ivory and brown, but all of them thick and full and heavy. I watched the sun drop below the horizon as I swam a breaststroke toward the west end of the pool, then paused in the shallow water. It felt warm and relaxing. I had been there for a while now and, I decided, the time had come to leave - the sky was nearly dark. I stood up and turned for some reason, just a glance over the shoulder. And that pale silver ghost of a moon was right there, directly in my line of vision, framed in a triangle of palm fronds. It stopped me completely. For several long seconds, I stood and just looked up at this image, transfixed in another tropical moment. It was a happy coincidence, that precise placement of moon among the graceful boughs of the coconut palms. I didn't have to go out of my way to find it. Probably couldn't have if I had wanted to. In South Florida, such moments find me.

Call me crazy. (You wouldn't be the first.) But I like hot soup even in the middle of our intense South Florida summer. I never get tired of good soup. I also never think it's too warm outside for soup. I mention this because I've found a new place to get some excellent soup. And some fine coffee as well as other tasty food and drinks. It's a little sliver of a restaurant located on Las Olas Boulevard, south side of the road just east of the Riverside Hotel. Called Gran Forno Pronto, this is the companion to a larger bakery and sandwich shop down Las Olas several blocks. That's the original Gran Forno - great spot for first class homemade bread and other baked goods. Gran Forno's little cousin is a terrific addition to Fort Lauderdale's main shopping and dining street.

At Gran Forno Pronto, you'll find fresh-baked pizza along with paninis and salads and sweets. And soups. I've had their soups for lunch several times now. Each one was different and each was excellent.

In case you still aren't entirely sure whether I'm crazy or not, let me seal the deal for you. I've eaten these hot soups sitting at one of Gran Forno Pronto's three outdoor tables. In the middle of the afternoon. In the summer heat. Of course, you don't have to do this. You can sit inside in the nice a.c., where there's enough room for a small lunch crowd. Many folks like to order their food, grab it and run back to the office or wherever. Gran Forno Pronto is a great takeout kind of place. But me? I prefer to go there when I can sit and enjoy. Just last Thursday, I ordered minestrone along with a thick slice of onion pizza and a bottle of San Pelligrino. I followed it all up with a deliciously strong espresso. The temperature at my streetside table was probably 93 degrees but did I care? No, I didn't. I watched the shoppers as they wandered along Las Olas and I smiled at the people who looked over at me. I sipped my soup and wiped the sweat off my forehead. And I just savored every moment of it. Run by Italians, Gran Forno Pronto feels like the sort of small café you find in Italy. Only two months ago, I was in Italy eating in some of those cafes, in fact. And yes, I ate outside - in the middle of the afternoon in the summer heat. And yes. I ate soup.

It was one of those mornings. A morning too delightfully languid to hurry home. A perfect morning to stop by the beach. So as I drove down A1A from Lighthouse Point toward Dania Beach, with many hours of work awaiting me, I paused anyway for a beach break. When I reached the Fort Lauderdale beach, I parked my car and walked a couple of blocks to H2O Café for breakfast. I sat at an outside table in the shade of a tall palm, feeling warm in the still tropical air but happy to relax where I could absorb everything happening around me. People were walking across the street in pairs and groups and families, spreading out blankets for a day on the sand. Others wandered past me as they scouted out places for their own beach breakfast.

I ordered black coffee and a fruit plate. I could see several tanker ships waiting offshore for the okay to enter Port Everglades. Perhaps another dozen or so boats were visible too, charter fishing boats and private yachts that had motored out for a morning at sea.

The Atlantic Ocean was ideal for boaters - and swimmers. It was calm and flat and twinkling in the sunshine, a blue much lighter than the clear skies that stretched to the horizon. My server, Amit, delivered my order and told me he'd watched the sunrise that morning as fingers of cloud and light had spread across the east. My coffee was strong, just as I'd ordered, and the chilled watermelon and strawberry, cantalope and honeydew and pineapple were flavorful. Directly across from me I saw the lifeguard in his stand keeping tabs on the swimmers as they walked from blankets to waves and back again. A slim young woman with dark hair glided by on foot along the water line, visible to me only in silhouette from the waist up. At a distance, I imagined she was very beautiful. Then a parasailer appeared high over the sea to my north, dangling under a round multicolored parachute in the brilliant light. Amit brought me a refill of my coffee and, with a smile, said, "You're not really going to go and do work after this. Are you?" He gestured toward the beach. Amit had a point, of course. I've often commented in these blogs about how tough it can be to enjoy Greater Fort Lauderdale during work days. You don't want to go back to your desk. But I paid my bill anyway and walked reluctantly toward my car. I'd had my break and, for now, it would have to be enough.

We all need to relax these days. I mean, just to chill for a while. Don't you think so? Most everyone I meet is wound way too tight with job stresses and money worries and tensions caused by a constant avalanche of phone calls and emails. Not to mention all the hassles of our new "social media," which to me often seem less about being social and more about trying to impress other people one way or another. Sigh. As I sit writing this blog, I can feel my own collection of stresses making some of my muscles tense. Why do we keep doing this to ourselves? Maybe the better question is: how do we stop doing this to ourselves?

I'm convinced that one of the things that can help is to take regular breaks from our hectic pace. There are lots of ways to do this, of course, but I'll tell you about a very good one that's just about to become more affordable. How does a lovely spa treatment sound to you just now?

It sounds good to me. Very good. Starting August 15 and running through September 30, Greater Fort Lauderdale's popular spa promotion will bring back those $99 treatments for the body and mind at some of this area's best resort and day spas. Called Lauderdale Spa Chic, this deal allows folks to savor these tension-breaking sessions at prices that are as much as half off. That bargain alone should help lower the old blood pressure, just knowing you're not breaking the bank. Spa-goers can try out such treatments as an 80-minute "Rollerssage" at the Westin Beach Resort, Fort Lauderdale or the Hot Paraffin Pack treatment and Oxygen Blast at the W Fort Lauderdale. Wacky names but, no doubt, blissful relaxation too. Participating spas include those at The Ritz-Carlton, Fort Lauderdale, Lago Mar Resort and Club and Hyatt Regency Pier Sixty-Six among many others. For the full list go to www.sunny.org/spachic. Many of these spa resorts also are offering special rates for those who need a longer cooldown from everyday life. Good deals such as $219 per night at the Atlantic Hotel for their Grande Deluxe Oceanfront guest room plus a full day at the spa. Wouldn't two or three days of that pampering feel totally amazing? Yes, it would. If I had my druthers, I'd pack my bag and motor my Mini Cooper over there right now. I'd settle right into my room and look out at the gorgeous blue sea over the Fort Lauderdale beach. Unfortunately, I've got a pile of emails waiting for me. Oh and I'd probably better see what's happening on Facebook. I'm sure it must be something very important.

Let's talk about staycations. And about vacations. And about counting how many months it's been since you last took one. This topic seemed especially appropriate to me today because of the oddity of today's date. Did you notice? Yep, it's 8.9.10. The ninth day of the eighth month of 2010. I love those kinds of things. The way I figure it, we'll continue to get some of these calendar quirks from time to time over the next few years. Through 11.12.13 anyway. So ok, back to the topic I'd mentioned. This issue was raised in my mind just a few days ago when I caught a radio commercial. It was from one of those low-end motel chains, all about the idea of staycations. The announcer was saying something that I found a bit irritating, quite frankly.

He talked about the notion that staycations mean doing the same old thing. They're not really legitimate breaks from routine, the commercial argued. "Vacation means to vacate," the guy went on. Etc. etc. etc. Well, guess what? I beg to differ.

Remember, I was listening to this ad in South Florida. If I lived in Des Moines, say, or Tulsa or Raleigh or many other places in this country - well, I might think he had a point about getting away from home and going somewhere else. But when you live in an international vacation mecca, staycations aren't the same thing. Maybe it was just me or maybe I was in a feisty mood or whatever. But I thought this commercial was way off base for a South Florida market. I've done staycations every year for the past several years, usually in the summer but sometimes as late as the holiday season. I can tell you from experience: a good staycation around here is a good vacation. Because I do "vacate," after all. I vacate my home and my work and my usual routine and my daily worries and all the rest. I head to one of the Greater Fort Lauderdale beach hotels that people travel thousands of miles to stay in. Within 15-30 minutes, I've arrived. But you know what? By the time I've checked into my room, I feel as if I'm thousands of miles away myself. It's an odd feeling in some ways but it's been like this each time I do a staycation. I become a tourist in my own town. To me it's fun, relaxing and very low stress - no planes, trains, ships, baggage transfers or anything else to deal with. So on this 8.9.10, I'm suggesting to those South Floridians reading this blog that you might want to ask yourselves just how long it's been since your last real getaway. And I'm also suggesting that if you happen to hear this weird radio commercial about staycations, pay absolutely no attention. I don't know where that motel chain is based but it sure isn't on the Fort Lauderdale beach.

Lately I've been welcoming the weekend in a very South Florida kind of way. With a swim. I could easily go to the ocean to do this, of course. I live only a mile from one of Broward's Blue Wave beaches. But instead I've been going to my condo pool for a delightful Friday night dip. The pool is more convenient obviously, just a short walk from my front door. Plus I don't have to deal with sand on my feet, and in my car, at the end of a tiring week. But whether in the sea or in a pool, the idea would work pretty much the same way. So yep, I'm here to recommend that you try this wet welcome to the weekend. You can decide for yourself if the Atlantic Ocean sounds best or if you prefer a pool at your condo or hotel somewhere in Greater Fort Lauderdale.

Here's how my new Friday night routine works. Just as the sun is going down, usually around 7:30-8pm, I throw on my bathing suit, grab a towel and step into my flip-flops. Within three minutes I'm poolside, wetting down in an outdoor shower before stepping in for my swim.

Each Friday when I've gone to the pool, it's been empty. It is a sizeable pool too, good for swimming laps or diving down to the bottom. The solitude feels like a luxury to me, having a grand Florida pool all to myself. As the sun drops lower I start my swim by peeling off several laps. Not lots and lots of laps, mind you. Hey I'm not trying to challenge Michael Phelps here. Just to get a bit of exercise and then to ... relax. That's the point of all this, really. To let go of some of that tension I carry around with me too often, tension from worrying about things I can't control as well as tension from trying to control as many things as I can. As I grow older, I'm getting better about not whipping myself into a frenzy so frequently. But I'm not there yet. So my Friday night swims are therapeutic, washing away some of those worries with each lap. And when I'm more or less done with the laps, I sit and soak in the shallow water and watch the sunglow as the horizon seems to swallow the radiant yellow light. Sometimes I float on my back and look up at the clouds and the palm trees. And sometimes I just stand and look around, still amazed that I live in such a place. To many vacationers, South Florida seems a paradise of sorts. During my Friday evening swims, it certainly feels that way to me.  (Photo: The Atlantic Hotel, Fort Lauderdale beach)

The parking spaces were almost all gone along the lovely Fort Lauderdale beach on Sunday. I couldn't even find a spot to pull over for a few minutes on my morning drive home. That tells me that lots of locals headed to the beach, taking in the surf and sand together with the tourists. And why not? It was a gorgeous morning. The sun was out full and the temperature felt moderate for the first day of August. I opened my Mini Cooper's sun roof and windows to take in the sea breeze and the oceanside sights and sounds and scents. It was a nice ride. But I couldn't help noticing that there was another group of folks also taking in the sunshine and the Atlantic Ocean - in their own ways. A group that doesn't use up parking spaces.

The runners. Yes the runners were out in force, as usual on Sunday mornings, gravitating to A1A for the sheer joy of exercising by the sea. I understand this feeling. Though I'm really more walker than runner, to be honest, there is something very special about enjoying the beach as I work out.

It's like a little bonus you give yourself. It is the opportunity to do something healthy for your body and your soul at the same time. Anyway, I was paying more attention than usual to the runners this Sunday for whatever reasons. They're an interesting lot, these people. Many seem very serious about their running. They stride in long lopes down the middle of A1A's bicycle lane, often plugged into iPods they wear strapped to their arms. Toned women and taut guys, most of them, gearing up for however many miles they do in their morning runs. Judging by their looks, it's a bunch of miles. I see walkers too, walkers of all kinds and shapes and sizes. Some are as fit as the runners, speeding along the roadside with extended arms quickly swinging front and back. Others? Hmm, not quite so trim. You can tell they're all suited up in their sweats and gym shoes for that big weekly fat-burning session - but then have decided a slow amble beside the beach seems like a better idea. There's a small parade of these runners, and these walkers, on Sunday mornings. Every morning, really, but Sunday is prime time for them. Check it out when you're at the beach some Sunday. Actually, when you go there I'm hoping you'll just run to the beach. Or walk if you prefer. Only please don't drive. Maybe there'll be at least one parking space free for me.