The Pile

Pretty tuckered out here.  Spent the morning moving about three months worth of clippings, palm fronds, and the dastardly invasive we cleared from the dune, out to the road for pick-up tomorrow.  We have been putting out a little at a time, but the service will only haul away so much a month under the fees we pay.  We had to contract to get a whole truck out here just for us.  Would have taken about three years to get rid of it all the other way.  Neighbors and passers-by all appear happier.  Can’t wait to see the looks on the faces of the crew tomorrow.  They have no idea what they’re in for.  Hey, if we can do it . . .

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We at The Skinny Island Post are mourning the passing of the great Liz Taylor this afternoon, and reminiscing about some of her great performances.  Top of the list would have to be “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf,” with hubby Burton.  What incredible performances by both, but the range of emotion and flat-out acting skill exhibited by Miss Taylor was astonishing.  Saw it first time right when it came out, with buddy Mike at Florida Theater in Jacksonville.  It was summer; we were hanging and surfing at Atlantic Beach, and came into town for the show, shorts, t-shirts, and barefoot, as I recall.  Also remember walking out completely drained, but happily aware I had seen some real art; great writing, great cinematography, great performances.  She was savage, and crazy, and smart, and sad, and beautiful, one after the other.  Have seen it numerous times since, and it never fails to knock my socks off. (If I had any.)  So long, and thanks for all you were and gave, Liz.

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