Sweet home California.

(The Hollywood, Florida boardwalk)

Here I am, back from Florida, none the worse for wear, aside from a few large mosquito bites.(Although no one else in Dave's family seemed to be affected by them. I suppose his family must have become immune to mosquito bites, living in a Florida, a virtual swamp, for so many years. Or perhaps the mosquitoes smelled my fresh blood and were in the mood for some vintage 1974 California blood.)

I can tell you that there is nothing like visiting a place you dislike to help magnify the virtues of your hometown. I do not like Florida. I mean no disrespect to the people who've chosen to live their lives there; the place simply doesn't agree with me, is all. It's muggy, flat and full of biting bugs, and I was glad to see the trip end.

I'm sorry to say that the location wasn't the only disappointing thing about the trip. There were several incidents that made parts of the trip absolutely distasteful, but I'm wary of writing them here.

OK, fine. I'll tell you one thing: There was some racist talk, and I was forced to listen to it, as I was a guest in the home of those spewing it. The first time I heard it, I was really too shocked to react. Someone made a comment about how "a lot of blacks" have moved into the neighborhood we happened to be in. This statement, although probably true, was most certainly not intended in a complimentary way. Later on, someone told a couple of racist jokes - one Polish, and one about blacks.

This was on Thanksgiving, just before dinner. I took D aside and said, "I'm sorry. I don't want to cause a scene, but I really can't stand for this kind of talk anymore. I know I'm a guest here, and I don't want to embarrass you, but the next time something like that is said, I'll have to say something or walk out."

(I really didn't know if I could follow through with that. After all, where would I go? I was in a strange town, 3,000 miles from home. I thought about getting a hotel, and realized that everything would probably be booked, considering it was a holiday weekend. The same would be true for flights home. So you see, I really thought about it.)

D, who doesn't have a racist bone in his body, was really embarrassed and horrified, of course. He said that he's confronted these same people many times about their racism and has been pooh-poohed as being "overly p.c."

No one said anything else racist throughout the remainder of the trip, but obviously my opinion of the people who'd made the comments has changed for the worse.

I've been thinking about it a lot since we got home, and I feel badly that I didn't say anything to protest in the moment, whatever the consequences. I told D that no matter what the circumstances, next time I hear something similar, I won't stand for it, if only to satisfy my own conscience.

***

The rest of the trip was OK. We spent a lot of time visiting D's childhood friends. After a while, I got kind of sick of being dragged down D's memory lane and went to see RENT by myself while he visited some friends from his old job.

I'd seen the play once, but theacousticss in the theater had been bad, so I hadn't been able to understand the lyrics or plot. Anyway, I liked the movie all right. I thought some of the songs were a little cheesy. Nevertheless, while watching, I couldn't help fantasizing about the alternate life I might have lived, being a starving artist and living La vie Boheme. I teared up at the "forget regret, or life is yours to miss" and "how do you measure a year in the life? How about love?" lyrics. Something about those words connect to thoughts and concerns I've had about my own life lately.

***

Finally, D's mother did not comment positively or negatively on my weight. I saw a picture of myself on her wall that was taken the last time I saw her, and I was pleased to realize that I was, indeed, a bit chubbier then than I am now. Despite all of the running I've been doing, I've found it difficult to recognize the changes in my body. Seeing that picture made me realize, finally, that yes, I've been losing weight and toning up. The scale doesn't reflect it, but I will finally admit that I've gained muscle, and not fat, these last few months.

That being said, with traveling and work, I haven't run for two weeks now, and I hate the way I feel - sludgy and bloated. I start again tomorrow.