It takes all kinds

America was once referred to as “The Great American Melting Pot”, something I was reminded every Saturday as a kid.

The military represents this very well, with young adults from all across this country coming together to sacrifice for the common good. And in my many travels, I’ve never seen another place that also shows this as much as Florida does. People from all over the world want to come to Florida to either visit, or to live, drawn by various things. Some love the beaches, the weather, the night life, Disney, or simply the sun. I was drawn here to visit retired family, then returned to try to live here because of work, orange juice, and fishing.

Tourist attractions are some the the best places to people watch, and allow you to see the extreme variety Florida offers. Locally, we have beaches that fit that description. My family goes from time to time, but we live here, why would we make that 8 minute drive to go to the beach northeast of our house? Many years, we actually spend more time in other states than we do at the beach. Crazy, I know.

This summer we made the effort to go to the beach. With the economy tightening, the beach offers us an inexpensive way to enjoy the outdoors and do some people watching, sun bathing, fishing, swimming, metal detecting…SOMETHING to get us out of the house.

On one of our trips in mid July, we made the effort, even though the beaches were PACKED. One of the local beaches offers a webcam that I use to determine where we will set up our “base of operations”. I determined the best spot…or to my paranoid mind, the least worst spot, and we headed out, picnic lunch and liquid refreshments packed.

Oh  the people we saw! A twenty-something with scarlet red hair that looked like it would glow in the dark. A guy that got buried in the sand (after too many beers) that almost needed rescuing from the encroaching waves. Too much body for too little swimsuit (male and female). Fair-skinned folks that looked almost translucent they were so pale (“SPF 1,000, please”). I watched a woman give complete strangers a $100 bill to go across the street to buy beer when she heard they were making a beer run, and it was her only cash (she got her beer and the change!).

Boaters, surfers, swimmers, fisherman, treasure hunters, people watchers, babies, teens, moms, dads, grandparents dogs, and some guy with a lawn mower engine strapped to his butt, riding under a giant kite – a powered para-glider.

I am familiar with them, since my younger brother David, spent two years building one, getting it near completion, then selling it and buying another. Tweak this, try that, talk to he old guys that have been doing it…like me, Dave can be obsessive. I watched him start with his first engine, a 6 horsepower, never fired up, right out of the box. He stripped it, bored it, trimmed it, shimmed it, and several other things… the end result being 18 horsepower from the same engine. I was impressed. He flies with a group of old-timers, using a field about 15 miles southwest of where we live. They keep an eye on him, thankfully, and they rarely fly solo.

Let me back up to explain my relationship with Dave. There is nothing either of us wouldn’t do for the other. A 3AM call with a flat an hour away, we’d go help the other. But we are so un-alike, you’d swear I was lying when I said we were brothers, based on our lifestyles. Dave is a go-getter. He works HARD, and expects a lot from himself, trying to plan every move. Me, I’m a slacker, I fly by the seat of my pants, and enjoy the scenery as I wander around trying to get things done. We drive each other crazy.

And even though we live a couple miles apart, we rarely see each other. We simply have very little in common, not a bad thing, simply a fact.

Back to my original story line. I see this powered paraglider, and watch for several minutes as we dips, dives, spins, and generally makes me a little motion sick just watching him. As he gets closer, I wonder if my brother knows him, so I try to pick out details to ask him to see if he can figure out who it was. As he crosses in front of me, I realize I recognize the shoes….Dave’s shoes! It was my brother!

Knowing he always carries his phone, I texted him. Now I don’t know what the laws are about texting and flying experimental aircraft, but he promptly answered, then made a turn to come find us.

Everyone was, of course, watching and wondering what he was doing…and probably thinking how crazy he was. But like the title says…it takes all kinds!

 

Peace,
db

Dave’s fly by :

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