My
aunt and
uncle bequeath me their
apartment. The area reminds me of the
palm tree stateliness of the more
dignified Palm Beach property on
A1A. I lie out
on the beach, and there are 4
characters: two
beach bunnies, and two fellows reminiscent of
Jay and
Silent Bob, or perhaps
Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. I soon find the
clowns are no
competition, and the
chicks display a gratifying
interest, despite my
goofy 70's denim bell-shaped hat. Hey, I'm
balding, my
scalp sunburns easily, OK?
Back at the
intricate,
palatial apartment, there is a
housewarming. Although I have not lived there, I have unmanageable heaps of
borrowed books to return to my
sister. There are at least two
floors, and I keep finding
bedrooms and
computers that I
hadn't noticed before. I will never
find time to
familiarize myself with all the computers, there are old
Apple IIe's and
Tandys and
Intel machines from
8086 on. Some are
draped with plants, in
cozy little
nooks off the
labyrinthine halls, some are
tucked into dark, dusty
guest rooms.
Sisters and their
husbands,
parents, and
children explore, looking for
wine,
cheese and crackers, and/or
cookies. The place is
full of plants and sunlight,
wood tones, and
bare floors. Without
guests, it will be
quiet, but not
lonely. And those
beach bunnies must live close by...