flintlock jack

Don't remind me. Luckily, some businesses are adding a seperate 'diaper changing only' restroom. These are the tymes that try my soul....

CAt burgler

My sympathies, Jill! Starting to see more of what were called back in Florida 'Draught Houses' here in the Dallas area. Basically, older movie theaters or playhouses converted into cramped dinner theaters. Great idea when applied properly. 'Applied' being operative here. I loved going to those back home, they were always a blast, but the latest models aren't quite so enjoyable. Welcome to the city 101, and forget about watching a film in any state of comfort. Submitted for your disapproval: Yuppies on cells, machos chatting up bleach-streaked bra-stuffed daddy's girl for all to hear, kids who need a nap, fat-cat o'beasties wedging their way through the maze of ill-placed tables toppling pitchers mugs and conversations, lag reel changes and lotsa smoke coming from the projector, I said speak english please, does he realize plucking his eyebrows makes him look like Mr Spock?, who does your hair Briggs & Stratton?, what is wrong with that girl's butt?, the constant roll of garbled static, one table over citiot involved in loud after work 'business call' topic ranging randomly from what the receptionist was wearing today and how I'd like to bend that over to golf tee-off to what the golf cart beer girl was barely wearing last time out and man I'd like to do her to Country Club dues to what the waitress is wearing and wondering what her special skills are to lying to the wife about where he is to what's the story on banging the new girl at work to damn that's the wife calling again to you should see this waitress serving me now it must be cold in here ha ha yeah I could warm her up to when my old man finally retires and I take over the business to damn why can't my wife stop calling me when I'm trying to relax and actually enjoy myself for a change to hey waiter I'd like to buy the next round for that table of college girls over there give them my card, midget warm 3/4 pitchers, I think the projectionist rolls his own, crunchy greasy finger foods, over priced mini menus(how much for a miniscule plop of nachos?), sit down in front you're a lousy window, I'd like to speak to the manager if he speaks english, nobody move I think I've just lost my patience, buy a mirror or teach yo mama how to dress you, if the guy behind me burps out loud again he's going to remember me for a veerrrryyy long time, has the waiter forgot about us or did he get lost?, why are they showing prevues of this season's TV shows?, isn't that our waiter over there loudly chatting up that bird with the black lipstick and flab hanging over her hiphuggers?, why does that guy over there have a zipper on the back of his pants too?, hey who's the cranial giant that dropped their lit cig in the trash can?, you don't actually think anyone believes bright carnation is your natural hair color do you?, if you spoke english you wouldn't have a problem taking my order there Paco, speak up I'm having a problem acknowledging you though I can say with surety that may not improve my impression of you at this moment, did they even bother cleaning this table?, is there a reason besides deafness ignorance or rudeness that you're talking over everyone else in the building?, I hate to break this to you but they sell clothes in something other than black, hey baboon can you please chew and talk with your mouth closed?, bloodshot eyed baggy pant holey boxer geri curl sneakers oversize tanktop grillmouth urban players spitting brainless braggadochia into a pre-pay cell, drunk oil-haired smartasses dressed the same izod way flapping off what the hell is she doing with that guy? I'm such a stud that's why I'm out with my frat bros every night, why are you wearing socks with your sandals?, isn't there a law about showing your stretch marks in public?, oh yes chartreuse and violet are definately your colors, you're on medication aren't you?, what the fekk is that stuck to my flip flops?, is that your real personality or is that something you're just knocking about?, please stuff your suede mauve bra straps back under your yellow chiffon shirt, turn your fekkin cell phone off!, you mean to tell me people actually buy shiny purple lingerie?, is that girl on the floor dead?, where the hell is our waiter?, at what point do you decide on black lipstick?, why is that elephant over there wearing a sheer shirt with no bra?, no I said a pitch of Michelob not Shiner in a bottle, where the hell are you from and why are you here?, is this what I ordered it didn't look like this in the picture, what's that smell?, I bet the carpet doesn't match the drapes on Little Miss Greenhair over there, please change your diet I can smell you all the way over here every time the ceiling fan wobbles the right way, where's the rest of my nachos?, who are all these people and what are they doing on my planet?, does the fire marshall know about this place?, how come my pitcher is only 3/4 full and dripping by the time it gets to me?, hey tatoo pull up your pants does your grandfather know you're wearing his boxers?, is purple really a good hair color?, do I have to actually ask for silverware and napkins?, is the guy over there with the woogity eye staring at me or you or them?, what the hell is this weird gray chunk with fuzz on it next to the ashtray?, did the guy over there with the tie and credit card next to his plate get the rest of my nachos?, are you sure these are nachos?, yes those shoes that are too small for your feet and the clothes that are also too small for you indeed do actually make you look fat very fat, aren't there places you can't quite reach with a washcloth?, remind me again why was it we came to this place?, did I just see that fuzzy gray chunk next to the ashtray move?, why don't you speak english and what is that piece of chrome stuck through your eyebrow?, shouldn't you be on medication?, what is that fekkin smell?, look just give this plop of overpriced alleged nachos to Mr Spock over there, bring me another pitch of MICHELOB and ask the manager if he wants to step outside, hey what the fekk are you looking at? EH? Etc, etc, etc. (insert exasperated sigh here). Ah well, you get the picture. I'm straight out on that. Take me far from the 'fadding' crowd if you will. I'll stay at home with my wife and watch a great period film, thank you, and leave all that noise to those who think it's worthwhile. I think I need a drink.

undefinate probability

A tip o' tha hat in welcome to ya',sir. Twas a grande event of meeting you at Port Washington,and I venture there shall be a string of merry meetings sure to come. Welcome to tha pub and yes, here there be pyrates(and smugglers,pickpockets,hawkers,wreckers,highwaymen,doxies and the usual coloured array of characters). Sleinte!

As my incredible wife lays sleeping after another futile week of city dearth and shite, l prop meseff up watching "Fury At Smugglers Bay", widescreen, on my porto player. Shot in the usual Hammer glory of style and visual, the viewer gets...pyrate turned wreckers,smugglers,a highwayman,and the incomparable Peter Cushing. Damn, it's good. Come on now! Pyrates are given. Smugglers and highwaymen? T'und'rin jaze! How kin ya go awrong? Every enthusiast should have this, along with either version of 'The Wicked Lady'(Margaret Lockwood as Lady Skelton, James Mason as Jerry Jackson), either version of 'Dr Syn'(MacGoohan as the scarecrow!), 'Jamaica Inn"(Charles Laughton is over the top), throw in 'A High Wind In Jamaica', 'Caribbean', 'Moonfleet'(a smuggling Stewart Granger), and 'Captain Pirate'(technicolor Louis Hayward) and yeev got a lot of the go! Got off track....... Ah yes, 'Fury At Smugglers Bay'..............................................................

A tip o' tha hat to all who made this festive venture a grande ol' tyme. Warms tha cockles of an Irish pyrate/highwayman/smuggler's 'eart it does. Do tell. Great company and cold libation, there's tha form, sez I, fer true fer true. A toast an' thensome ta Cap'n Sterling, our frequent(ahem)employer, an tha Archangel crewe(nudge wink),co-horts in our owling vocation. A tip an grin ta Lady Barbossa(yer welcome fer tha trek ta tha Irish pharmacy), and Merrydeath. Glad to finally meet ye both. Grande ye two are, true as true. Till our next merry meeting, all. Sleinte!

Beer is an easy drink for me. 'Casual' may be of adequate descript, as my temper(a problem at tymes when sober)is extensively subdued when I'm consuming beer. Good tyme charley in some ways, definately more relaxed, surely less analytical and suspicious. Rum, on the other hand, acts as a slight aphrodesiac. Hold on, my cell is ringing. It's the wife. "Yes, Baby, I'll be sure to stop on the way and get more rum." See what I mean?

vessel

A gracious obeisance an' perquisite o' brim to ya all, fer true fer true. Ta tha esteemed Cap'n Sterling; In thanks I solicit grand cess an' weal to ye an' the emeritus crew of the Archangel. A nod an' tip to ya Cheeks. I thank ye well an' true. Lilith; A nod, grin, an' a twinkled wink to ya' lass fer yer wishes. Dear Maeve; Irish thanks to ye, gerl. To ye Rats, me darl', Many thanks ta' ye, sirrah, fer true as true tha garrison has a twist an' dance fer me yet! Sez I, a fresh hoof an' stores has rendered me aloof of said subsidies. Tha merry life has a ruse of it's own, I find, an' tweak tha' Crown's nose I shall with relentless relish! Till our next merry meeting.... I tip me hat in thanks to ye all! Sleinte!

A grace of tip to ya all, lads an' lasses. Ta William Red Wake; A bucket of Irish cess to ye an yer lovely wyfe, who, in me recollect shares said celebrated day. Ta Rhumba, a dear to us all; Ye humble me with yer ever gracious wish and intent. And to ye, darlin' Maeve; Tis sweet episode ta share tha day with a fellow Irish soul. I thank an' allow yer boon an' personal tender. Thanks to ya', Mister Reid, fer yer thought is appreciated fer true.

I'm with you on the moving, we just did that this month ourselves. How did we accumalate so much shite over the years? Thunderin' jaze! A future piss sounds well and admirable. Like I always say: If I'm sober buy me a drink, if I'm drunk prop me up. I know Plano well. Well, I know Plano. Does this make you just a 'plano' pyrate. Sorry, couldn't stop meself. I can resist anything but temptation. Tough crowd. Look forward to meeting you, Cap'n S! Sleinte!

Rhumba, I'm sure I speak for any and all who have lurked the Pub for any length of tyme regarding your station of high regard. Our thoughts and sympathies are with you in your peril of health issues, and as Jill mentioned a better treatment or aid could be around a very near corner. May I add you are revered, cherished and appreciated here, and the Pub could be nothing but dimmer without your light of wit, humor and insight(Speaking of humor, what ever happened to the dancing bananas? I laugh every tyme I think of that). All gods' speed and tha best of cess to ya, lass. Fin up, dear! We all luv ya'!

Well, I sw'ahn! (those from the south may recognize this expression of exasperation,ie:Oh my! I swear!)

I have one of those clear 'snapshot moments' from when I was six or seven laying with my legs hanging over the couch arm reading an 'Ator' comic book and stopping just to watch the commercial with the 'pyrate in it'. Those went away, as best memory serves, by the late 70s. Don't remember ever seeing them past that. Some twisted political correctness going on there? I wonder. At least there was the 'Mad Jack' cartoon that was on Saturday morns for a while in the late 90s. Silly, but better than nothin'. I'm waiting for a 'what's in yer wallet' pyrate commercial.

Harry,Cherry And Raquel (Russ Meyer film)

Thank you Blackbead for the gracious invite. Meself and herself(the incredible Tempest Fitzgerald)will be attending said soiree and look forward to meeting all. A coupla questions: Will this be a dining experience or a barstool get together? Dress code(pyrate/naked?...better prepared than Polish I always say)? Till our merry meeting.... Flintlock Jack (aka Naed Fitzgerald). Sleinte!

What tyme is this shootenanny? Is this a meet and greet or an excuse to personify(my wife:"No you don't need to put yer pyrate gear on to go to the beer store." me: "But I wanna play pyrate! Pleeeeeeaaasssse!")?

Anyone remember the olde Crunch commercials with pyrate 'John La Feet'(bare foot of course)?

trinkets

I'd be interested in attending said meet if there is invitation. I'll mark the Arlington date on me sundial...er....loggerhead book....ehm...next ta me tattoo...ahm...anyway it's the day afore me b'day an' me beloved Irish Day. What a weekend it should be!

When asked directly or even set proxy to any conversation considering one's 'first love' I always smile. It takes me away. A different road, a different tyme. A very different place. My first love has to this day a daily effect on me. It permeates my thoughts and actions to near obsession. It keeps me content and keeled. Its comfort is a perpetual anchorage, its memory a cache of splendor. A sunny place for shady characters. Florida was my first true love....... The years had passed since my family had left Bay County and at tymes it seemed like nothing more than a tale I so often told. The effect and passion over the years had begun to fade to a melancholy whisper. I had lost contact with most I had known as a lad. The coincidence and eventuality of life's wit and irony had taken most away from their beginnings as it had myself. Through my turmoil and gammit that had resolved to be my lot, I arrived at a place of needed inspiration. So, at twenty five years of age and life experience double that, I went back home. It had changed greatly in sixteen years, but there was still plenty to feed my memories. The house in Parker we lived in, second from the corner of Blackshear and Alma, was gone. Nothing but an empty lot. Tears welled at the sight. The surrounding area and neighborhood on St Andrews Bay looked a lot like I remembered it. Quite, lazy, shaded by pine and palm. The boat ramp down the street, where as kids we dove between lauches to chase crab, was mostly still in tack. The bait shop at the sharp turn of 'scenic 98' that had the big wooden pyrate on the porch was shuttered. But the ambience still beamed. Sandy driveways and a light Bay breeze. Home. A friend of mine(we'll call her Christy)was the granddaughter of a family(I won't say their name)who at one tyme or another ran one the shipyards on Key West. She didn't know enough to give specifics, but that was the story her family told and the history that was discussed. Everyone knew her and we never payed cover anywhere and got a lot of free drinks. Her dad, a born conch, worked the yards. Her mom, a socialite from West Palm Beach and eventually named an honourary conch by Key West's mayor, worked long days and nights, leaving Christy to her own whims and devices. My first visit to West Palm Beach consisted of driving in off the turnpike at two a.m. to crash at my friend Marty's house, which was about three blocks from A1A, to be chased away at gunpoint(wrong address)and nearly lost my achilles heel to an overzealous stray dog. Cars with full tint rolling down the street, barely moving, a window slowly lowered then rolled back up. Shadowed faces staring back from hostile rolling office. All that in the span of about forty-five minutes. The fact that every doorway and window was covered with bars should have been my first clue. I thought about dipping the seat back and sleeping in my car, but the idea of waking up dead rang little appeal. I realized that South Florida and the Panhandle where I had lived were two very different places. Maybe those Hiaason books weren't as cartoon as I thought. Kinda strange, very scary. This boy from St Andrews Bay felt a little out of his element. I wound up crossing the causeway and staying in a seedy motel ran by a guy I couldn't understand or whose name I couldn't pronounce. The softcore porn on the telly was nice but disappointing. Never a skill or money shot. Ah well. My good friend Marty had just graduated EMT training and was out all night celebrating, forgetting that I was driving in from Panama City. Thanks Marty. I found out the next day it was her dealer neighbor that had chased me off with a pistol. He gave me a semi cold beer as an apology. "Here have a Corona you'll feel better." Thanks, I think. After a recoup day while Marty slept off the hangover, we visited a friend in Lake Worth. I have never seen so much pot in such big bags just sitting around. Lawn leaf sized, thick clear plastic bags. "Sorry, just move that off the couch and have a seat. Want a Corona?" Our next day's expedition led us to visit Christy's dad who lived on a houseboat on Marathon Key. Parked along side said house boat was a small charter boat and a slimline cigar boat, both of which he owned and ran. The fishing charter business wasn't "as good as it used ta be", he noted, but he was "getting by". 'Getting by', Christy later explained, was a yearly trip to the Bahamas to fill the nose of the cigar boat up with 'resellable goods'. Pay the Customs Man not to check the nose hatch, and the Customs Man does not check the nose hatch. Customs Man, due to this mutual funding, gets ahead on his mortgage and has money to splurge on Mrs Customs Man. Mrs Customs Man gives more attention to Mr Customs Man than she has to Mr Pool Boy. Mr Pool Boy now has extra energy to keep his meal ticket girlfriend happy so he doesn't have to get a real job. And I have a tale to tell years later. Suddenly, everybody's happy due to this slight manipulation to the mechanics of negotiable economy. Christy's dah offers us 'south Florida cordials'. He explains that the elaborate mirror came from a 'business partner' in the Bahamas. It was very nice. Uncomfortable, I excused myself from the back room smoke and snort session, which raised brows all around, for no other reason than I was scared to death mister DEA man was going to boot the door in at any second and I didn't wanna be the guy with white stuff all over his nose going 'what?'. Leaving the houseboat, Christy was so buzzed she slammed the hatch of my Camaro down so hard it cracked the rear spoiler. "I'm so sorry, Dean! Let's go to the inlet. I'll buy you a Corona." Thanks Christy. The inlet, basically a small area containing a conch stand, burger stand and snowcone/margarita hut around one of the marina entryways, was an idyllic spot frequented by both the local boaters and surfers alike. Christy left her wallet at the house(which she did quite frequently)so I had to loan her money to buy both of us a Corona. So there we sat, our bare feet dangling over the edge of the inlet, watching the endless stream of boats shadowed by scavenger gulls and followed stealthily by young bull sharks and sandys hoping for a worthwhile overboard rake. Occasionally I glanced at the missing piece in my car's spoiler, determined to tune out Christy's unending blub of apology. But it was okay. I was home. For a while. Contented most of the tyme With my first true love. Florida. I miss dearly. Daily. "Pale invaders and tanned crusaders are worshipping the sun On the corner of walk and don't walk Somewhere on U.S. 1 Back to livin' Floridays Blue skies and ultraviolet rays Lookin' for better days..." -Jimmy Buffett

Done. Me an' tha' lads n lasses of tha Wayward Child(given tha wax seal of our good Cap'n Roberts tha drunken Welsh-Irish runabout)will gladly shake a pint er three at tha drop. Name tha lats an' lats, sirrah! Sleinte'!

I take it the media has reported something bad about VA hospitals. They couldn't have possibly found the worst possible case or situation and decided to expose that, now could they? (Somehow the reality of a media expose always seems so much tamer than they make it out to be. I'm still ranting about the news media, aren't I?) And well you should, Car, since media as we now know it, unfortunately, has turned into some form of alternate entertainment. "These are the times that try our souls."-Jimmy Buffett

A thought on your pondering, Miss Jenny, if ye'll allow me; Years ago, in a melancholy mood, I made notes to myself about the greatest tymes of my life. It took months of talking to friends, family and exes to have a good list, but when I was done I sat down and 'connected the dots', per se, to try and determine how I could live the rest of my life chocked with 'memorable moments'. I was surprised how some situations paralleled one another as far as the potential for an improved step in my life. In an objective light, I could see how I'd let a few opportunities slip by me. Silkie's quote about each moment is a great start, and believe me with the right choices(both life and partner)that 'full life' can manifest itself with an irresistable and desirable abandon. The right 'other half' is a great springboard in as much as getting yourself in the right proximity for a great life, I'm not saying it's absolutely necessary, and I always thought as such, but it's quite an adventure with two of likened minds and desires. Proactive seems to be an overused buzz word these days, but it's relative to progressive growth in both personal and social endeavor. That attempt to shift my own life by 'connecting the dots' has greatly improved it. The right spouse hasn't hurt either. There my thought goes being random again.....