Clearwater, FL-Sarasota, FL 11/15 100 driving miles; 11.6 walking miles

We started the day with a nice two mile round trip walk to the nearest Starbucks, whete the coffee was up to Ed's lofty standards. Thankfully, the local barista's had had enough of the Christmas music loop and mercifully changed it to a nice Jazz loop. Yesterday, when I made my food run to the local Publix grocery store, there was a Salvation Army bell ringer dressed in her dress blue uniform ringing away for Christmas donations. The only thing missing was the burn barrel to keep her warm, but that was quite unnecessary since it was eighty degrees outside. It's not Christmas in the Florida sunshine that bothers me. Christ was born in the desert climes, after all, but Holy Guacamole! let's at least let the trytophan haze diminish a bit, and maybe a big mash potato, green bean casserole,  sweet potato, excessive alcohol belch escape our gullets before we stuff Christmas down our throats. Some would chide, "TW, you're just a grumpy grinch." Maybe I am a bit grumpy after 70+ days on the road, but my jingle balls (Not a typo, Edgar) are as happily rung as the next guy. For me, it's just a timing thing. I should probably just accept the "year roundness" of commerce, rock back in my easy chair, and lament the loss of days gone by: say, the three sport athlete, the art of conversation, leaders with integrity, quality goods, short term memory (Did I say short term memory?). Well, you get my point. Back to the banal musings of road life. We met our "best" human (Chelsi) in Tarpon Springs at George's Breakfast Station. Having worked in food service a good part of my life, I'm always pleased to see happy excellence in the field. Chelsi was friendly, observant, and efficient. Besides seating customers and working her own tables, she was busy doing what we call "side work". It can be any of the myriad if unseen jobs that are only noticed by the public when they're not done properly (Why is this pepper shaker empty, Miss, or ICK!, this catsup bottle is gross). In this case, Chelsi was busy building silverware settings to be ready for new customers, which flocking in droves to George's. Breakfast was excellent by hash slinging standards, given the fact that Tarpon Springs is an unpretentious community of Greek sponge divers. And one more thing. She was genuinely honored that I thought she was best human. Her joyfulness made me forget about my grinchiness over early Christmas. In fact, I felt guilty having the gaul to complain about anything. After breakfast, we toured the little town of Tarpon Springs, and after quite s bit of walking, ate again (A slippery slope, I know.) at the food court, which was right beside the Sunday street fair. Then we drove the slow way back down the gulf coast, stopping in Anna Maria to see the beach and finally landing in Sarasota for the night. Oh, I almost forgot. We also met Troy and Lynn (Airstream owners) who just yesterday returned from Maine to their home in Tarpon Springs. They are great humans as well. We chatted them up for quite awhile in front of their house. Lynn letme take her photo, although she said no at first. It must have been the warmth Chelsi made me feel that warmed her to the idea. She proudly noted that she wasn't "connected". No smart phone, no Facebook, just a real tactile life. Paper maps and guide books for her. Outdoor painting and acoustic music, too. I felt honored that she acquiesed. To be sure, it was another good day that once again confirmed my core belief that life us good, especially today.

 Chelsi, food service worker supreme!

George's: nothing pretentious, just good plain food.

Selfie of the day: Sponge Docks. They used to run two hundred sponge boats, but due tothe ubiquitous synthetic sponge, less than a dozen go out these days.

In years gone by, would dive for the sponges, clean them, and hang them like necklaces to dry before bringing them to market to sell.

Lynn finally agreed to a photo.

Troy, not so shy, ran into the house to get his hat so he could pose in front of his fish cleaning station. He wanted a cut of the profits. A former commercial fisherman and sponge diver, he's lived in Tarpon Springs his whole life (Our third local).

This thin gruel looked too good to pass up.

This is what mine looked like. Ed had deep fried Grouper with fries.

The beach at Anna Maria.

Ed walking the plank.

Even blow up Santa thinks he should still be napping. Baa. Humbug!