From Ormond Beach

steve wardrip
Jul 21, 2017 · 7 min read

by STEVE WARDRIP

Photo By Drippy

We passed a guy in another golf cart who laughed, pointed at us and said, “There must be a business in there somewhere.” What a strange thing to say I thought, as I smiled and waved back to him.

“You got to cut around the bottom of that shell after you boil the turtle. You boil it yet?”, Asked the campground neighbor to the other campground neighbor, as we drove by on our golf cart, Todd and I.

Grandpa and grandson (me and Todd) were out for a cruise through the park. We have just moved to Bulow Plantation RV Campground in Flagler Beach, Florida. It was time to get to know the place. Normally, I would go down to the bar and ask around for information about living there. With the twelve year old with me, I figured we better go to the local Mom and Pop restaurant for breakfast. We are into the van and off to “The Flagler Beach Diner” for a first class stack of pancakes. Mine with strawberries and whipped cream and his with blueberries and syrup. He put some Maple Syrup on top of that and I suspect he even put sugar on top of that. Sugar rush for sure. What do you do with a kid ? Take them somewhere they can spin in circles. So, after the restaurant, we journeyed South down Highway A1A towards Daytona Beach. Twice along the way he had to pee. This is a half hour drive. It took almost an hour because of stopping at the Circle K and then on the side of the road because he couldn’t wait. Kids must have extremely small bladders. I can hold it for four hours, but then, I’m an old geezer and half of my fluid is probably going to my ankles in the afternoon.

We arrive at the Daytona Beach Boardwalk. $5.00 to park somewhere I can’t even remember, then we walk for two city blocks to get to the old Daytona boardwalk. Coquina stone monuments, decorations, arches, steps, the pier and the amusement park. I got this kid on the bumper cars and let him spin in circles. I went one round and then bought him two more rounds and just stood there by the wall watching him have fun. Around and around. He didn’t want to bump anyone and got insulted when someone bumped him. He was having a good time getting beat up while trying to avoid accidents. I think that’s what bumper cars is all about. I could be wrong, and certainly would be to some, but isn’t the whole idea, crashing cars? I like to crash. That’s why I go to car races., to see cars crash. Crashing is fun. Safe driving, so so.

Onward we go down the beach for a walk. Neither one of us has beach attire. He soon has his pants legs rolled up to his knees and is in the water past his knees, so he’s all salty wet and sandy all over. I have a towel in the trunk of the car that will help some. For me it’s nice watching the birds, for him it’s nice chasing the birds.

“What’s that smell, Gramps?”, he says, wrinkling his freckled nose.

“Aw, that just fish bad breath. They didn’t brush their teeth.”, I seriously explain.

“Fish have teeth? Creep me out!”, He snarkily replies.

“Haven’t you ever heard of Snapper Fish? They are everywhere!”, I ask.

“Nope and their breath stinks. They need a fresh mint. Can we get some mints?”

Here we go, more sugar. Not only that, the Super Monster poster costs me another $5.00 but I guess I should consider myself lucky. Everything else in the store seemed like it was over $20.00. We made it back to the van and decided to go see some nature. We went to a miniature golf putting course across the street. The kid was pretty good, but we decided to leave when I took a photo of the kid next to the alligator pond when an attendant came out and said no picture taking, that they charge for that. I told him to take a hike because that’s what we were going to do and we did. We left and said we ain’t comin’ back. Someone has to teach these kids how to deal with jerky businesses.

Next, you guessed it, Sally’s Ice Cream on the beach. Pastel picnic tables, CCR on the speakers, and five zillion flavors to choose from. Bubblegum/Raspberry is what he got. I stuck with Butter Pecan. Back in the car travelling down Highway 100, I looked in the backseat and there he lay asleep. I carried him inside the RV and put him on the living room sofa under the air and put a light sheet over him. He was out like a light. I’m glad I took some good photos of us on the beach. He had a good time and so did I. I cherish these times because I know it could be a long while before I see him again, since my daughter and her husband live way out West. He has been fun and has been my sidekick while I learn the town.

I fixed tuna fish sandwiches for supper with Kool Aid and Cheetos. He wanted ice cream for dessert. Chocolate this time for both of us.

About 6am I woke up and it was raining. The TV said a tropical storm was coming fast, changing directions and it looked like a direct hit for Flagler Beach. It’s not hurricane season yet, so I’m not too worried about it. They have a storm shelter here at the campground that is sturdy and will hold a lot of people and pets. We never got to find out because we never made it to the shelter. The rain intensified, then stopped, the wind howled and blew like 100 miles per hour, then stopped, no rain, no wind, nothing.

I woke Todd up and told him we just had a storm. He yawned and said, “Why didn’t you wake me up? I missed it.” It was just then I felt my face hit the ceiling. We were upside down being blown down the canal next to the campground. This was no tropical storm, this was a hurricane and it was sending us tumbling and grabbing for something to hold onto. I could see Todd in the hallway, terrified and crying. I was trying to get upright so I could walk and then we flipped again, washed up on the creek bank and then a palm tree came crashing down on top of the motorcoach, shattering windows and sending debris flying. It was like a war zone. Todd screamed he was trapped and my leg was trapped too until I pulled it out from under the kitchen table. I can’t believe this is happening to us. Everything was fine. No warning! Just wham and it’s over. Tropical Storm my foot!

“Todd, where are you. Todd!!!” I screamed.

“I’m back here in the bedroom trapped. I can’t get out”, He whimpered. When I made my way past the floating junk all over the RV, there he was with a mattress pinning him up against the wall. Thank God he was safe, both of us, no injuries.

This time we’re zooming down Interstate 5. They call it the grapevine here in California. Todd says, “Hey, Gramps, wanna stop and ride the bumper cars?”

“Hell no, I don’t care if I never see another bumper car. Let’s get back to the condo, the earthquake proof condo that is, okay?”, I just had to say that.

Fast-forward 10 years. Todd is married, living in Big Sur. I’m in an assisted living home in Los Angeles. The Tsunami of 2027 washed us all out.

Next came the earthquakes. Nonstop for weeks. Many, many dead or missing.

Then the disease and clean up.

Then the wars and bombs.

The civil war.

They bombed Daytona Beach, they bombed L.A., they bombed the USA.

Next, they boiled the turtle, cut it from it’s shell, divided it up and sat by the canal in an old RV and had dinner. They talked of going South to Daytona where there were the ruins of an old amusement park. They walked down the beach, watched and chased the birds, saw what was left of an alligator and it smelled really bad by a trashed out once mini-golf park. They looked for ice cream on the way home but couldn’t find any and the kid fell asleep on the way. I carried him into the old trashed out, rusty, open air motorcoach and lay him down on the living room sofa, covered him with an oil dipped cloth and hoped the mosquitos didn’t eat him.

After a supper of turtle soup, they went to sleep in the RV. Next thing you know, it’s upside down, going down the canal in a hurricane. They are still bombing California, but not Ormond Beach. Plenty of fish and turtles there in Florida, plenty of warmth and food, plenty of old RV’s to camp in. There is even an antique “Super Monster Poster” still hanging on the living room wall. Plenty of things to do, but no sugar or ice cream. There used to be an old sugar plantation here, the ruins are still here…
I wonder if we could grow some sugar cane…
make molasses, and make turpentine… hmm…
There must be a business in there somewhere.

ROSINE MAGAZINE

A magazine about life, listed in The Library of Congress for over 10 years. Originally about Bluegrass Music, Bill Monroe and Kentucky, ROSINE MAGAZINE evolved into an international community, committed to making the world a better place for people to live. USA AND PHILIPPINES

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steve wardrip

Written by

Writer of Rumors, Gossip, Lies and Dreams — Poet, Scallywag, Whippersnapper and Galactic Co-Pilot

ROSINE MAGAZINE

A magazine about life, listed in The Library of Congress for over 10 years. Originally about Bluegrass Music, Bill Monroe and Kentucky, ROSINE MAGAZINE evolved into an international community, committed to making the world a better place for people to live. USA AND PHILIPPINES

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