Oblivion
Director: Jospeh Kosinski
Stars: Tom Cruise, Morgan Freeman, Olga Krylenko

So it’s come to this: Tom Cruise, starring largely unsupported in a post-apocalyptic sci-fi film called “Oblivion”… which, oddly enough, is my very idea of oblivion. It’s no secret that I don’t care for him, so I suppose I should be disqualified from giving my opinion on a film that has already officially reached blockbuster status. Millions of people can’t be wrong, right? It could be that they just don’t know any better. Both versions of “Solaris” explore similar themes more intriguingly and creatively for example, and the very thing that makes “Oblivion” work (on paper at least) is that the main character exhibit some degree of humanity in the midst of all this ruin and desolation. The problem is that Tom Cruise is incapable of mustering even the slightest bit of soul or sincerity. He can’t even do insincere sincerely. He’s a mannequin — an attractive facsimile of humanity that goes well with all the gleaming, computer-generated furniture. But never mind that; plenty of explosions and bursts of choppy action fill in all the gaps, and “Oblivion” pushes all the right buttons on the blockbuster console by monkey-fisted default. I wouldn’t be surprised if the ageless, androidal Cruise had already been hologrammed to star in similar films long after he dies. Now there’s an idea for a movie…

42
Director: Brian Helgeland
Chadwick Boseman, Harrison Ford, Nicole Beharie

A  biopic of Jackie Robinson, the baseball icon who broke the color line when he signed with the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947, has been a long time coming, so “42” had better deliver. And it does, but in all the made-for-TV-movie ways. It was a good decision to cast the relatively unknown Chadwick Boseman as Robinson — he’s suitably athletic and affecting during the many dramatic scenes — but it was a mistake to enlist the more charismatic Harrison Ford as the gruff Branch Rickey, the man who put him on first base. It’s nice to see Ford in a supporting role, but his part is written with strokes that are too broad, and Ford slices up the ham to make up for it and overshadows the other admirable performances in the process. The fault, then, falls on writer/director Helgeland’s shoulders, which is unfortunate, seeing as how his adaptation of “Mystic River,” for instance, shows he’s capable of doing much better. Still, “42” is moving and thought provoking, and Boseman and Beharie (as Robinson’s wife) do all they can to break the other color barrier that mars an otherwise great film. It begs the question: Who takes the credit here, Robinson or the grumpy old white man who worked on his behalf behind the scenes?

Olympus Has Fallen
Director: Antoine Fuqua
Stars: Gerard Butler, Aaron Eckhart, Morgan Freeman

Just to show that “Olympus Has Fallen” means business, it dismisses all the old-hat contrivances that the president (here, Aaron Eckhart) is a secret badass by showing him engaging in fisticuffs with Secret Service agent Gerard Butler right off the bat. So that takes care of that… Once that’s dispensed with, this lumbering pastiche of “Air Force One,” “Independence Day,” and a fistful of other over-the-top, quasi-political action thrillers digs its heels into the dirt to convince you that evil North Korean operatives have infiltrated the U.S. to hold the president and some other high-ranking government officials hostage in an underground bunker. If that weren’t far fetched enough, everyone, with straight faces, parrots their lines in sonorous, Shakespearean tones as if muttering magical incantations that will make viewers forget that this is all complete and utter bollocks. When it does grip you, it’s only when things get so absurd that you’re fascinated to see how in the bloody hell director Antoine Fuqua will get himself out of this mess. What he does come up with does far more damage than any real terrorists could ever do: rot Americans’ souls from within. So the demise of our great nation will come as many suspect, then: through an inside job like this.

Two Women
Director: Vittorio De Sica
Stars: Sophia Loren, Jean-Paul Belmondo, Eleonora Brown

Among the many unfortunate misapprehensions in the world of film is that Sophia Loren is nothing but an earthy piece of ricotta cheesecake. The reality is that she’s an excellent actress and was the first to win a non-English-speaking Oscar for her role as widowed mother Cesira in this 1960, Vittorio De Sica-directed film based on author Alberto Moravia’s “La Ciociaria.” In it, Loren and Eleonora Brown (playing her pious, 12-year-old daughter Rosetta) flee the Allied bombing of Rome for the relative safety of their family seat, a remote village in Central Italy. Following the Liberation, the exhausted pair traverse difficult terrain on foot back to Rome amid the confusion and chaos of retreating Germans and their Axis cohorts. After seeking refuge along the way in a shattered church, they’re accosted and raped by an attachment of Moroccan soldiers. They manage to pick themselves up to continue their arduous journey, but their plight is further complicated by Rosetta’s judgment of how Cesira behaved during the traumatic event. What unfolds is even more heartbreaking, and Loren turns a personal tragedy into a universal paean to motherhood and the indomitable resilience of women living in a world fueled by the madness of men.

What I saw that day was the true definition of surfing. There were nose-rides on longboards, girls getting small barrels on shortboards, great carving, beginners learning, and seasoned pros shredding. They were hanging out together in and out of the water and offering loud support every single time any of them caught a wave. We caught up with one of the key organizers of Women of the Waves to talk surfing, and are proud to have Melody DeCarlo as May’s “Boardrider of the Month.”

Name: Melody Anne DeCarlo

Stance: Regular

Current Quiver: 9’0” Island Stu Sharpe; 6’5” Island Stu Sharpe quad; 9’2” NuWave SUP; 8’0” NuWave SUP

Favorite Board: “Depends on the waves. My favorite board ever was a Surfboards Hawaii Model-A stepdeck.”

Years Surfing: 45

Can you describe the moment you knew surfing was going to be a part of your life?

I grew up in Hollywood, Florida and we went to the beach almost every weekend. The whole neighborhood would pack up food and supplies. We would stay at a little hotel where we could cook under the pavilion and play on the beach all day. We had those little styrofoam surfboards and mats and tubes. I never saw anyone surf. When I was 14, I was at the airport with my dad and spotted a Surfing Magazine. He let me buy it and I read it cover to cover a hundred times. I knew I was going to be a surfer. It took a little longer to convince my parents. My mom said that girls didn’t surf and it was too dangerous.

Who were some of your influences and what inspired you when you started surfing?

Back then, there were no surfing videos or DVDs, and you were lucky to find a magazine or watch surfing on “Wide World of Sports.” I would say that my first influences were Margo Godfrey and Jericho Poplar, since they were the only women I ever saw in the mags. When I moved to Cocoa in 1972, I met Keith and Kathy Gardner, and Keith was a big influence in my surfing. Back then, the Pier was such a fun place to surf — Ben Logan, Jack Lasley, the Gardners, Bob Freeman, Patti Sponsler, Patti Craft, and all the locals hung out and had a great time. Every summer, the Paskowitz family would come and park a camper right at the Pier and spend a few weeks. Good times.

Who do you enjoy surfing with?

I enjoy surfing with such a great group of friends. It just depends on where I land. Dan, my man, would be the first one. I love surfing with my girls when we meet up. The Pier Crew: you (Scooter), Christa, Susie, Debbie, her dad, and, yes, even Kenny and Ricky are fun to surf with. It’s a bonus when a few legends like Claude and Skip paddle out. I like to surf with Stu because I think it’s good to surf with your shaper so he can see what changes you need to make in your quiver. And I can’t leave out my SUP guru, Dave Siljestrom, because he rips on his SUP and has taught me a lot.

How did Women of the Waves come to fruition, and what exactly is it all about?

Women of the Waves came about when Tony Sasso asked me to do an exhibit on women surfers for the Cocoa Beach Surf Museum. Sharon Wolfe-Cranston joined me and we started contacting women we knew and women they knew. The exhibit grew and grew until we had 200 Florida women from five-years-old to over 60. Since women were coming to the opening from all over Florida, California, and Hawaii, we decided to make a weekend out of it. The opening weekend was so successful that the women wanted to have a closing weekend before we took the exhibit down. They had so much fun that we’ve made it an annual weekend for women to get together and have a few days to hang out, surf, paddle, and watch movies. No contest, no pressure, just catching up with old friends and making new ones. Every year, the people who came the year before bring new people, so it just keeps growing.

What can we expect at the upcoming Women of the Waves gathering?

This year’s event is October 11-13. We are showing a movie by Dr. Diana on Friday night — video she’s taken over the last few years at WOW. Saturday and Sunday morning we have Surfing Socials on the beach where we hang out and surf and catch up with friends we don’t see that often. Saturday night we have a covered-dish barbeque that will be open to the public at the Cocoa Beach Pool Pavilion with music by the Aquanuts. This year we are expecting a lot of young women, thanks to the support of women like Crystal Cooper (of Salty Sweet) and Lauren Holland (of School of Surf).

Tell us about the vibe on the beach and out in the water when the ladies take over.

When men are in the water, they surf. When women get in a group, they surf, talk, surf, giggle, surf, laugh, surf, and talk. We try each other’s boards, share stories, discuss issues, catch up on our lives, and solve the problems of the world. There are smiles everywhere you look.

Do you compete these days?

I still compete in contests that are fun and for a good cause. I compete in the Waterman’s Challenge, Sisters of the Sea, and NKF. I have a problem with my lungs, so it makes it hard for me to surf a 15-minute heat or when the waves have size. At my age, I’m never going to be World Champion, but I do still try to improve my surfing every time I go out.

What changes have you noticed in surf contests over the years?

The biggest change I can see in competition is that parents are pushing their kids harder at a much younger age. Kids are getting sponsored so young. I hope that it doesn’t discourage young people from surfing for the rest of their lives just because they don’t compete well. Surfing is about a lot more than competition.

What do you think needs to be addressed in terms of competition and career improvement?

I would like to see companies step up and support women’s surfing more. Several years ago, I won $1,500 at the Virginia Beach Surf Jam. Today, the women’s purses have not increased. There are so many women surfing now and so much young talent. I hope their opportunities grow in the near future.

If you could change one thing about our local beaches what would it be?

I wish smoking would be banned at the beach. I hate having to walk down to the water breathing smoke and stepping on cigarette butts. Also, I wish people would respect the beach and pick up their trash. That’s two things, but they are related.

What’s your favorite food after a surf session?

I am usually racing to work after a surf session, so I make a big smoothie with coconut water, protein powder, kale, and some fruit. Oh, and chocolate. I always crave a piece of chocolate after I surf.

What do you like to do when the waves are flat?

I love to paddle in the ocean or river now that I have a SUP. I also work out on my Bowflex and mini-trampoline. I am President of the Cocoa Beach Surf Museum, so when there are no waves I do some work on projects we have. Right now I’m working on getting sponsors for the Waterman’s Challenge on May 31-June 2.

If you could take a surf trip to anywhere in the world, where would you go and who would you bring?

My travels have been very limited due to having horses for 25 years and now my job. I love to go to Puerto Rico with Dan and Bill. Some day I would like to go to California and Hawaii. But, I must say, there’s no place like home, and I feel like every day is a vacation since we live in paradise!

Any final thoughts, words or shoutouts?

Thanks to Kim, Eden, Jocelyn, and Janet for being great surf buddies! And to Roy at Oceansports World and Dave and Rick at NuWave SUPs for taking care of me even though I’m old!

Why are they planning to dump more sand onto Cocoa Beach this November? The beach seems wide enough right now. We might have needed the sand back in 2005, after Frances and Jeanne. But now? The dunes are holding, the sandbar is still recovering, why ruin everything? — Lisa, Merritt Island

The beach renourishment is a source of metaphysical angst for both ends of the political spectrum. Ultra-liberal surfers and neo-conservative Tea Partiers each hate it for their own reasons. Surfers, because the breaks will be ruined by the formation of a near-shore trough, and Tea Partiers because the sight of the Great Lakes barges dredging $16 million worth of sand out of the Canaveral Shoals invokes an image of a city suckling on the teat of the Federal Government. Really, the whole problem comes down to semantics. Instead of labeling it “beach renourishment” — a term which has taken on a sour taste — or “pump and dump,” which again calls to mind breast-feeding, Cocoa Beach needs to adopt a more retro, 1960’s-style term for the dredge. Why not call it: “refilling the ashtray”?

We have a saying in Orlando — “If the Wavecaster is calling it chest or less, you’re bound to get skunked.” Why does that guy overcall every swell? — Phil, Orlando

I’ll try to answer this one respectfully. The city of Orlando has an elevation of 82 feet, which is exactly 82 feet higher than Melbourne Beach. From that vantage, any reports about rising surf might tend to seem overinflated. Also, it’s hard to keep track of the shifting sandbars when it takes an hour to drive to the beach. Of course there’s always the possibility you’re just a cynical kook.

I read with interest your op-ed on Florida’s Stand Your Ground law. As a former attorney, I have to say (tongue-firmly-in-cheek) that your legal analysis is full of holes. Stand Your Ground is not, as you claim, a “wild-west-style edict” simply because two people shooting in each other’s direction on a public street can both claim immunity under the law. And as a card-carrying member of the NRA, I find it unconscionable that you would blame special interests for drug or gang-related abuses of Stand Your Ground. It’s not our job to enforce the laws, only to draft them. –Walter, Melbourne

I must admit this is a very persuasive argument. Maybe you could come visit my house and we can discuss this in further depth? Just come through the side gate and knock forcefully on the back door.

I came to visit Florida last year and was surprised to find that you were trying to combat sea level rise by mounding sand up on the beach. My home city of Rotterdam lies six metres below sea level, and is completely protected by dikes. From an engineering perspective, the most effective way to buffer your island would clearly be to elevate highway A1A and fortify its eastern bank, thus converting the road into a sluice and wall system. For the sake of economics, you might compact all the building materials eastward of the roadway. Admittedly, the beach would be inaccessible for a number of years, but in time it would replenish itself as sand collected over top of the rubble. I know this will never happen — any society who doesn’t recognize the rights of same-sex couples to marry could never be forward-thinking enough to implement such a plan. — Job, The Netherlands

Wow, a lot going on in this one. If I understand it correctly, “Job” proposes we invoke eminent domain, demolish all the beachfront condos and use the rubble as rip-rap. A radical idea, but the biggest challenge with that would be figuring out what kind of reparations the condo owners would receive. How about this: a permanent suite on a Carnival cruise liner, with headliner Neil Sedaka singing four nights a week? No, of course we won’t demolish the condos. Floridians are too firm for that. We’ll wait fifty years or so and let the ocean to do it for us. Come back then, Job, and you can surf a point break over the condo ruins, a reef of great pink blocks cast into the sea. As for your lovely dikes, I can only congratulate Rotterdam and wish you a hearty “Veel succes!”

Is it true that the river’s “flipped?” Have we killed it forever? — Jen, Cocoa Beach

Yesterday, after hearing a persistent thump against one of my dock pilings, I went outside and found, floating by the seawall, a  pale, bloated manatee carcass. I poked it gently with a stick to confirm the beast’s predicament — it was very dead — and went inside to call the appropriate authorities. Within the hour, a young fellow with a goatee and a polo shirt arrived. He informed me the probable cause of death was starvation. “The seagrass is gone,” he explained. “It’s like a desert down there. So they’re gorging on this red algae. That fuzzy stuff at the bottom with all the barnacles. I don’t think it’s good for them.” Have the nitrogen levels reached a point of no return? I don’t know. Look at the manatee deaths, the decimated fish populations, the barren river bottom, the toxic algal blooms… it doesn’t inspire confidence. I wouldn’t go so far to say we’ve killed it forever. Just for a long, long, long time.

You clearly have no grasp on the economics of beachside renourishment. For every dollar we spend on sand, we earn $5.50 in tourist revenue. Next time, do some research before you go spouting off on something you know nothing about. FTFY. — JM, Indialantic

I’ve actually done some research on this, and have come up with a slight modification to those numbers. I was skeptical at first… How can you put an actual dollar figure on imported sand? But when I learned the estimation technique, it began to make sense. Apparently the Canaveral Shoals are brimming with Spanish treasure, and the dredging would result, on average, in the recovery of one gold doubloon per forty cubic yards of imported sand. Now I won’t debate the existence of this theoretical Spanish gold, or even that the dredging ships will unearth it, but I must point out that the value of gold has dropped 15% since the original figures were calculated, and so the county only stands to earn $4.68 for every dollar spent on beach re… that is, on “filling the ashtray.”

What’s all this crap about Juan Ponce de León beheading and slaughtering pregnant native women? Why do people think it’s okay to rewrite history? Juan Ponce de León was a hero, and he should be recognized as such! — M. Spinoza, Palm Bay

Please allow me to recommend the gin martinis at The Mango Tree.

Here’s a good one:  If the Wavecaster calls it shoulder high, you’ll find it to be “waste” somewhere. — Ted, Merritt Island

I never would have thought surfers to be so disillusioned. In defense of the Wavecaster, if I were given the choice of only one surf report, it would be his… Not because he is more accurate than Magic Seaweed or Surfline, but because he has a soul. Anyway, “Merritt Island,” go cross a bridge.

Last night my wife informed me she wanted another cat. We were watching television. Well, sort of… I was watching the inside of my eyelids. Compared to what we were watching on TV, the eyelids were more interesting. Anyway, there’s nothing like “I want another cat” to pop your eyes open. It wasn’t much different than twenty-eight years ago when “My water just broke” jolted me bolt upright. The cat conversation went like this:

“I want another cat.”

Zzzzzz—Snort. “Huh? What? No.”

That was about it.

I do not hate cats. I think they are beautiful, graceful, and probably the perfect pet. I hate pets, period.

Now I know what you’re going to say: “LaClaire, get the bug outta your bonnet and soften up that hard heart of yours” (except you wouldn’t say “bonnet”). My response is this: I have had many pets in my life and every one was a severe pain in the bonnet.

The first pets I can remember were turtles, and they weren’t really mine. What is a turtle? A clam with legs. And just as interesting… My older sister and brother received one each for some godforsaken reason. I was very young, maybe five or six, but I remember them. They came with a “pond,” which was a plastic dish with an island in the center, replete with plastic palm tree. Supposedly they would migrate from wet to dry as their reptilian intellect dictated, but you know what? I never saw them do anything. Bo-ring…

One was named Speedy and the other was named Slowpoke. Why do I remember that? I forget my own wife’s name from time to time but I still remember that. Now, ask me how you could tell Speedy and Slowpoke apart. Come on, ask me. Give up? The answer is: you couldn’t. And what’s more, who cared? They didn’t do anything! They didn’t chirp, they didn’t bark, they didn’t balance a ball on the end of their nose… They didn’t even move. They were turtles.

They were good at one thing though: smelling bad. They always stank, even when they were alive (which was hard to tell). Then one day, they died. Who knew? They never moved!

My own first pet, like most kids, was a fish. Actually, two: a black one with bulbous eyes and a generic gold one. I named them Blackie and Goldie. Original, huh? Blackie was quite dazzling; a little paunchy, but with a magnificent gossamer tail. Goldie looked like a carp from the sewer. Both were procured for the price of twenty-seven ping-pong balls at the county fair. It was three tosses for a buck, which, if you do the math, comes to about eleven thousand dollars a pound for Blackie and Goldie. Gold-fish, indeed…

The pair spent their first night in a large mixing bowl on the kitchen table. Being a tyke, I couldn’t resist grabbing at them. I went to bed that night with wet sleeves on my jammies. I doubt Blackie and Goldie slept at all. It was their first night of incarceration and they were probably pining for their lost carnival lifestyle.  The next day Dad brought home a proper fish bowl, a bag of blue gravel, a ceramic castle, and fish food that looked like dandruff. Their new home was our living-room end table.

You’d think, after all that time on the road together — seein’ the sights, hangin’ with carnies, barkers, and guys who ride motorcycles inside barrels — Blackie and Goldie would have developed some sort of bond. Not so. They were lousy cellmates. Blackie did not adjust well to captivity, but Goldie seemed to thrive, hogging the food and growing bigger each day. He also had some very untidy habits; things like trailing a four-inch turd from his rectum. You could tell Blackie was intimidated. He would cower at the bottom, bulging eyes pressed against the glass. Then, no matter how much dandruff I sprinkled on the surface, Goldie began nipping at Blackie. It was obvious: Blackie had become Goldie’s bitch. Then, one morning, Blackie was doing the sidestroke, his magnificent tail chewed to pieces. Goldie was smoking a cigarette, smiling.

Blackie was interred as he would have liked it, spinning round and round like a carnival ride. Goldie was relegated to solitary confinement, where he hoarded his dandruff and trailed his turds, finally succumbing to obesity and gill cancer. The sad thing was, nobody knew when he actually died. We’d become so accustomed to blindly feeding and then ignoring this animal that we didn’t realize he was dead until he stank. By this time he weighed four pounds. Or maybe he just smelled that way. Goldie was unceremoniously flung onto our lawn along with his fetid liquid environment. When he hit the ground a blue jay swept down and flew off with him. That was the first time I ever heard an experience described as “Kafkaesque.”

A new rule was established in our household: no more fish. But we had the fishbowl and the gravel and the little ceramic castle — why not other creatures? My next series of pets were wild ones, starting with freshwater shrimp. We had a tiny creek back in the boonies we called “The Crick.” It was located below a hill we called “The Hill.” In a forest we called “The Woods”… At one point The Crick widened to form a place we called “The Muck Hole.” We may have been retarded when it came to place names, but we loved that muck. It lay beneath six inches of ice-cold still water and was a veritable Serengeti of leeches, crayfish, hellgrammites, frogs, and salamanders. And thousands of shrimp, little tiny see-through ones. Guess what stinks worse than a dead goldfish? New rule: no more shrimp.

So it was on to salamanders. How beautiful! Sleek and shiny with a wide racing stripe down the back… One day I had six. Next day they were gone. Poof! What a gyp. But tadpoles? Whoa! As long as you used the water they came from, you could watch them grow into frogs in just a couple of weeks. You didn’t have to feed ‘em or anything! Little buds would appear and morph into limbs. Gills were absorbed. Then their tails disappeared and — oops! Where’d they go? Just like salamanders. The mystery was solved a week later when Dad’s big toe located a putrified salamander in the very tip of one of his wingtips. Then a tiny frog jumped out of the toilet when someone was about to… Another new rule: no more frogs or salamanders.

But nobody said anything about crawdads! Whoa, man! What a gnarly little beast! If a turtle is a clam with feet, then a crawdad is a cockroach on high fructose corn syrup. With ten thousand parts to its mouth! And claws! And when you pick it up it actually hurts you with those claws! It’s hard to describe them without an exclamation point! But guess what? They crawl away, too. And die. And stink!!!!! Then my older brother graced our home with a real pet: a parakeet.

Whose idea was it to put birds in cages? Birds, to me, have always been symbols of freedom. They can fly, fer chrissakes! What crueler fate than to have your wings clipped and be stuck behind bars? But Thor, as he was named, didn’t really seem to care. Ever heard the expression “bird-brain”? That might have had something to do with it.

Supposedly, you can train a parakeet to talk. Buh-loney. This bird had a one-word vocabulary: blrpl. Its language lessons went like this:

“Okay, Thor. Say ‘Pollywantsacracker.’”

“Blrpl.”

“No, no… “Pollywantsacracker.’”

“Blrpl.”

“No. Listen: ‘Pa-lee-wants-a-cracker.’”

“Blrpl.”

You get the routine. It did have one neat trick, though. Actually, two. It could spin on its perch. Yep, just like an Olympic gymnast. The other trick involved my Dad’s bald head and the southern end of the bird’s digestive tract.Blrpl, indeed…

Unlike a parrot (the world’s worst pet, if you exclude monkeys), parakeets don’t live that long. Ours didn’t, anyway. It died of fright after a nail-clipping. That’s right folks, a pedicure killed Thor, the Norse God of Thunder.

Having exhausted the taming of aqueous and feathered species, the next step came naturally: a cat. Actually, two: a black one and a… Yep, you guessed it. No, we did not name them Blackie and Goldie. I might win a Pulitzer if that was true, but as my readership knows (Hi, Mom!), when it comes to fame and money, I missed school that day.

Cats. Ah, the cats I have known… They are worthy of their own column.

And so it shall be.

Years ago, in a quaint little village nestled between a tropic lagoon and the deep, blue sea, in a time before the great beasts known as “condominiums” came to blot out the sun, there lived a fine couple at a place called 2nd Street South. Both were white-haired, though they held a glow of youthfulness that defied their years. The wife was elegant and poised, possessed of both chiseled features and a regal bearing that surpassed any woman of noble birth. The husband was a bit rough around the edges, but had been in the village long before paved streets, and was loved by all. He was tall and genial — I suppose handsome in his own way — but, most importantly, he loved his wife more than life itself.

One evening, as twilight began to paint the sky, the couple went for a walk along the beach near their home. They held hands and talked of the things lovers have talked about on such walks since before time had a name. They traveled near a half-mile, lost in the sounds of the sea, the birds, and each other’s words. Occasionally, they would exchange greetings with other couples out on similar strolls, but for the most part the world fell away. That’s how love works.

Upon returning home, the wife noticed that the stone had fallen out of her wedding band. Immediately, the two went back to retrace their steps, but with night now fallen, it quickly became apparent that finding a diamond in a half-mile stretch of sand would be no easy task. True, life had been good to them both, and the diamond in question was large enough to choke a good-sized cat, but still… a half-mile of sand?

They returned home and grabbed flashlights and, pausing only to phone a few friends and explain their need, rushed back to resume their search. They had not gotten far when the first friends began to arrive. In the moments, indeed, the hours that followed, help continued to arrive, each friend having called others before they came to join the search. Hundreds came! All brought lights, many brought shovels, some brought the screens out of the windows of their homes.

No one came for a reward. No one came out of greed. They all came because a neighbor needed them. They came because friends that had always epitomized “loving couple” had lost the stone that was a symbol of that love. The night and the search wore on through alternating waves of panic, despair, and stubborn refusal to admit defeat, until finally the diamond was found. It was 3:00 a.m.!

The couple went home. The friends went home. The friends of friends, who didn’t even really know the couple, but had come anyway just because a neighbor needed help, went home. All returned to normal in the quaint little village between the tropic lagoon and the deep, blue sea, but the couple never forgot what they had learned that night. For years to come they would tell and retell the story of a town that came out in the night with lights and shovels and screens to help their neighbors. It was their favorite story of the town they loved, the town that had proven its love for them.

I first heard this tale from the couple, themselves, in the summer of ‘75, shortly after we moved to that same little village. The roads were all paved, the first of the condominiums had come — with many more soon to follow — still, I believe that “essence of small town” remains, just beneath the concrete, stucco, and storm shutter veneer. This story is just one of the examples I have to support my theory, and it has been a favorite for almost 40 years now. Each time I remember it, I remember as well the looks of adoration that passed between them during its telling. Regrettably, the two have both gone ahead, but the story, and the village, remain.

For those of you who are new to our town, take heart. We may seem to be all about “last call,” but we are also quick to heed that “first call.” On the surface, we may well have evolved into little more than a concrete and asphalt shadow of that quaint little village, but many of us will always hold that image in our hearts as the essence of this, our town. We are not just the people next door or the strangers down the block. We are your neighbors, and should you have need, we will come.

That’s just how we are.

Featured Skater: Killian Horne (Photo by Christopher Spohr)

It’s that time of year again: school’s out and the kids will be flooding the streets of Cocoa Beach.

While driving around this summer, let’s all take a few extra seconds to look out for our most precious beachside residents: the children!

Shout out to the “Prom Mom” of the year; I do not know you and did not catch your name, but you deserve some recognition.

Let me set the stage: I’m at TC (Taco City) with my wife and we’re waiting for our food outside on the patio when we notice a young couple inside, all dressed up and eating their prom dinner, which most likely consisted of an hombre or some fish tacos. When the couple finished and got up from their table, a lady got up from another table and walked out behind them. As we observed them, it was evident that this lady was the chaperone. I think it was the boy’s mom.

Anyway, as they approached their van, the young man opened the side door for his date, a teenage girl wearing a lovely dress with her hair done to perfection. As they got inside the van, my wife, Christa, mentioned how they had the back all dressed up with curtains, creating a “back of a limo” atmosphere. We looked and smiled and continued to comment on the effort they made to make this everyday van into an exclusive prom limo. We were reminded of our own prom days over 20 years ago at CBHS, and we shared stories about each other’s experiences and dates. As they left, we were assured that this particular couple would arrive safe at the prom and wherever else their “driver” was taking them afterwards, no matter how much talking, texting, or picture-taking they would engage in on the way. As they backed out of their spot, I stood up and told the mom: “YOU ARE SO COOL!” and I gave her a shaka, or a thumbs-up or something. Her windows were up, so she may have thought I was talking crazy talk, but she definitely went above and beyond keeping those two kids safe! Big props for that!

News Rants:

5/25: School’s Out Skate Contest at the Cocoa Beach Skate Park

Shout out to CB Skate Park Team riders Elijah Allred and Killian Horne for ripping at the Satellite Beach Skate Park contest in April. Elijah and took Third Place in the 12 and Under division and Killian got Second Place in the 13-17 division. Sam Rooks went to the Skate Park of Tampa and earned Second Place in the 16 & Up division in their annual Spring Contest.

The Great Optimist Fish-Out was a huge success and one of our local Skate Parkark rippers, Sebastian Baker, caught the biggest fish of the 14-16 age group (also the biggest of the day!), earning a cool $75. Bob Bevis, the president of the Optimist Club of Cocoa Beach, was handing out money and awards to all the kids who got the biggest and second biggest fish. Thanks to the Optimist Club for having the Skate Park Crew be a part of such a great event! See you next year!

Who on earth has a baby shower that turns in to a spontaneous wedding? Skippy and Tisha Slater, that’s who… Family and friends gathered at Rusty’s at the Port for a normal baby shower when out of nowhere the couple made an announcement that they would be exchanging wedding vows! There were custom onesies made by friends, bags and bags of diapers, and other gifts tears from those witness to the simple, yet amazing wedding, and large smiles from Mr. and Mrs. Slater. Best of luck to you both, as well as to little Van Carter Slater!

Summer Skate Camp will be starting at the Cocoa Beach Skate Park this June. Multiple weeks available. Cost is $99/week and includes instruction, lunch, snacks, contests, games, goody bags, and more. Register at the Skate Park.

Happy Birthday to Elijah Allred, who just turned 11.

Also “Amazing Grace” Marhoefer will be turning 10 years old on May 20. There will most likely be a party at the Skate Park.

Happy Birthday to Dr. Christa Robben of Beach Chiropractic!

Equal parts blues pianist/vocalist, erudite satirist, side-splitting comedian, prolific songwriter, arranger and producer, Billy C. Wirtz harkens back to the well-rounded entertainers of an age which has passed all too soon. It’s a heavenly blessing that he even decided to pick up that shamefully sputtering torch and light the way for a new generation of old-school entertainers and disciples of this dying art.

Wirtz himself fancies himself the “Victor Borge of the Blues,” and that assessment isn’t far off the mark. He brings a wealth of humorous tales and tunes into intricately orchestrated sets that showcase brilliant ivory tickling, revival-meeting energy, and wry observations on everything from politics to current social issues. If his music-laced humor weren’t Borgian enough, his legendary connection to every crowd he plays must have the old master chuckling in his grave.

Born in Aiken, SC, Wirtz moved with his family to Washington, D.C. at the age of 9, and immersed himself in music and televised gospel programs. While working in a record store as a teen, he devoured jazz, blues, R & B, and spirituals, and found his life changed after witnessing a concert that featured “The World’s Largest Gospel Singer” (615-pound Gloria Spencer) and the Mighty Clouds of Joy. After befriending Sunnyland Slim and a stint driving him around to various gigs, Wirtz left his day job and accompanied Slim to Chicago, where he earned a hands-on crash course in blues musicianship.

A later period as a manager for professional wrestler Diamond Dallas Page gave Wirtz more fodder for his popular live performances. “I loved inciting the crowds,” he once said, and the way he riles up his fans, you’d think he was to the manner born. But behind the ruckus of songs like “Mennonite Surf Party,” “Grandma vs. The Crusher,” “Polyester Suit,” and “Roberta — Get Your Big Legs Off Me,” is a studied mastery of roots music. His large body of work reveals both an abiding respect for music’s core origins and a bold faith in the outer limits it can reach. An accomplished and highly respected piano player (he’s noted for his deftness with honky-tonk and barrelhouse rhythms), Wirtz will heal you of your humdrum ills and inject you with a newfound passion for music, laughter, and life.

Billy C. Wirtz performs Wednesdays, 8 to midnight and Thursdays, 7 to 11 at Heidi’s,
7 N. Orlando Ave, Downtown Cocoa Beach. Call 783-4559 for more details.

“Play what you feel. Sing what you believe. Perform each show like’s it your last.” That’s Deland-based musician Mike Quick’s philosophy, and he lives by it every day.

“I love Muddy, Howlin’ Wolf, Johnnie Taylor, and Otis,” says Quick. “I take what I’ve learned from those guys and forge ahead in their spirit. But I got to be me!”

With his arsenal of guitars and a voice that sounds like he swallowed Ray Charles, Quick makes raw soul music that pushes the genre forward both sonically and lyrically. His fourth album, Time Change, is Quick’s most focused and thought-provoking to date. Its seven contemporary soul blues cuts run as far south as Stax and as far north as Motown, with Memphis horns and roots reggae swagger in the mix. Quick took some of Orlando’s heaviest blues, soul and funk musicians into the studio with him for the set and tours with them as The Soul Power Band. The group features Chris Baptiste on Hammond organ and keyboards, with the mighty rhythm section of Jimmy Seay on bass and “Natural” Phil Johnson on drums. The cracking two-man horn section is made up of Doug “Spoon” Spoonamore on tenor and Brian Scanlon on trumpet, and Florida bluesman Shaun Rounds guests on electric guitar and vocals for the album.

“I’ve been playing and recording for about 20 years now,” says Quick, who spent most of that time in the hot blues scene of New York’s lower Hudson Valley. It’s where he launched a career that has included thousands of gigs, four albums, and a long stint as the owner, operator, barkeep, and house bandleader of the venerable Corner Stage Jazz & Blues Club in Middletown, New York. The small and much beloved club was home to bluesmen like Bill Perry, Popa Chubby, Murali Coryell, Slam Allen, and Little Sammy Davis, to name just a few. But there’s also a large group of music-loving friends, fans, and players who still follow Quick and his band’s energetic presence that continues to develop in the hot blues scene of Central Florida.

“I’m always growing as an artist,” Quick says, “and I give it everything I’ve got in every show.”

Catch Mike Quick & the Soul Power Band Saturday, May 18 at the Beach Shack,
1 Minutemen Cswy, Cocoa Beach; 783-2250. Band website: www.mikequickband.com 

American Tropic

By Thomas Sanchez
Alfred A. Knopf; 244 pages; $26

Thomas Sanchez is rarely mentioned in discussions of Florida Lit; that bizarre genre consists of a cozy bunch of writers currently dominated by the “Big 3” of Carl Hiaasen, Randy Wayne White, and Tim Dorsey. There aren’t many who are even pretending to be knocking at their door, but Sanchez has now come out with a second novel set in Key West. He doesn’t live full-time in Florida, which is a strike against him, but the Key West of his novels could only be found on that speck of land at the end of our state. It’s a community populated with bizarre characters much like those found in his rivals’ stories. His bad guys are also ultimately stopped or eliminated with some righteous justice, but Sanchez’s “heroes” blur the line between good and evil.

A serial killer is on the loose, but the victims are not pillars of the community. They include environmental rapers, a fisherperson who harvests sea turtles, and a scumbag who stages dogfights and also had the bad fortune to run over an endangered Key deer. They all meet the same fate: shot through the heart with a spear gun, an “X” carved into their bellies, and their mouths sewn shut with fishing line after the killer shoved a recording between their lips. Sanchez’s killer assumes the role of judge, jury and executioner, and is on the run from the cops because of it.

The Key West of “American Tropic” is a tight-knit community that snakes under the veneer of the tourist mecca. The characters all have stories and nicknames to go with them — people like Big Conch, Hard Puppy, and Hogfish. They buy each other drinks, beat each other up, and follow each other around to make sure the killer doesn’t get them. It’s a symbiotic community where everyone feeds off of everyone else, the good, the bad and the in-between. It’s also unfortunately a story that Sanchez has told before, only the first time he titled it “Mile Zero,” his first novel that was published over 20 years ago.

“Mile Zero” and “American Tropic” share the same basic storyline: a serial killer who dresses as a skeleton and assumes the name of a voodoo spirit. Other similar devices include a raft of dead Haitians with only one survivor (named Voltaire in the first novel, Rimbaud here), a Cuban-American cop whose daughter is turning 15 and who stresses over her quinceañera, a main character who is a drunk and whose wife is filing for divorce, an old eccentric who lives in a dilapidated mansion, and a dog who is rescued by the cop from an early, violent death. Sanchez even changed the names of his characters, so it can’t be considered a sequel. Both novels even climax during Fantasy Fest, and there’s surely nothing new about Fantasy Fest climaxes. Sanchez is a gifted writer, but artists should reinvent themselves, not regurgitate themselves. Key West, an enigma even in its own state, offers an exotic, storytelling locale, but once was enough. Maybe the part-time resident should leave Florida to those who know it better. — Mark James.

April Fool’s may be coming to an end, but that doesn’t mean that the National Marine Fisheries Service isn’t still making fools of us all. There have been many rumors of a red snapper season, but unfortunately I can’t substantiate any of them. I recently spent a glorious evening at a fisheries meeting fighting to keep a VMS (vessel monitoring system) off my boat and others with federal grouper/snapper permits. Can you imagine? NMFS wants to put a tracking device on boats and wants the owners to pay nearly $1,000 per year so they can know where we are fishing. Is it just me, or does that sound crazy to anybody else? Any of you who know me can probably guess what I told them and where they could put their VMS… You would think they could use the funding to have surgery and remove their heads from their asses! Maybe then we could have a reasonable snapper season…

Wow, I don’t even remember stepping up on that soapbox… That’s levitation, Holmes! But seriously, there were actually some positive things mentioned after the meeting. Both the sea bass and vermilion stocks have been declared healthy and the annual catch limits have increased dramatically. It looks like vermilion snapper will remain open year-round for the recreational sector. Also, the sea bass quota will nearly double, so the season should stay open longer than the two months it lasted in 2012.

The other big news is that my favorite time of year has arrived. That’s right, it’s grouper season!! May 1 might as well be my birthday, New Year’s and Christmas all rolled up into one! It’s a good thing I got caught up on my sleep last month, because I definitely see some sleepless nights on the horizon. Guess I better wrap this babble up and get to catching some bait…

There’s not really a whole lot to say. You’ve read me saying it a hundred times: live bait — and the bigger, the better. Get yourself a livewell full of bait, lock the drags down, and prepare for battle. The fish could be as far inshore as Pelican Flats, but the most likely areas will be from the 23- and 27-fathom ledges and the offshore wrecks and cones.

If you’re gonna be out in the blue water, you might as well be ready to do a bit of trolling too. May is also one of the best months of the year for this type of fishing. There should be plenty of dolphin with a few sailfish and an occasional wahoo thrown in the mix. Naked ballyhoo on mono rigs fished tight to the teasers should do the trick on the ‘phins and sails. Try ballyhoo/lure combos rigged on wire fished long or deep for the wahoo.

Not to sound overly positive, but the live bait fishery can be red hot in May also. Some of the best kingfishing of the year can happen this month as the kings stage to spawn on the moon. When the fish show up, the fishing gets absolutely stupid. You could catch your limit in minutes. With the kings, there should be a few blackfin tuna and cobia. If you see the blackfins busting the surface, try pitching live bait on a mono rig into the fish. Sometimes they shy away from the wire rigs.

Whatever you want to fish for, get out there and get some while you can!

See ya on the pond!

Summertime weather is here at last, and brings with it some awesome fishing.

The next couple of months are my favorite months for fishing, because there are so many different species to target during this season.

Through May and all throughout the summer is when the tarpon show up on our beaches in their search for the pogy bait pods. Tarpon are famous for their acrobatic fight and the raw power they exhibit. They can range anywhere from 30 to 150 lbs., which means you need to beef up your tackle before seeking them out.  Most people lose them when they jump, as they leap with the bow towards them, which creates slack in your line. This move also makes it harder for the tarpon to throw the hook out of its mouth. Also make sure to use circle hooks; this will give you a better hook set. My favorite bait to use are pogies, which you can cast-net for on the bait pods that are all up and down our beaches. Simply look for the pelicans diving and get going.

The redfish bite this past month was insane, especially on calm, glassy days. Schools of 10 to 100 fish can still be found on the shallow-water grass flats. If they’re in a feeding frenzy, they’ll eat anything you throw at them. If they get stubborn, just throw cut bait; that should definitely get the job done. Early morning top water is my favorite time for them and it doesn’t get any better watching a redfish explode on your lure during those hours.

The early morning trout bite has also been good; we’ve caught them all the way up to 28” on top water, jerk bait, and cut bait. The cut bait works best for them when it gets really hot outside. If you catch any of these gator trout, I recommend you letting them go, as they’re most likely spawning. Once they get that big they can get worms inside their fillets, which makes for some awful eating.

Until next time, good luck out there. See you on the water!

This year, though, we finally got a break with picture perfect weather, a calm sea, and enough surf to allow the ESF to hold a great event. The 71 paddlers who participated were quite happy to avoid the beatdown they endured the previous two years. The favorable conditions contributed to the outstanding performances displayed by the elite field of competitors.

Gary Wise had the fastest overall time for this year, clocking in at 1:04:44 in his OC-1 outrigger canoe. Chase Kosterlitz returned to capture 1st place and best overall time among the SUPs, covering the 7-mile course in 1:11:02 in the 14 ft. class, followed closely by Matt McDonald at 1:12:27. The Men’s 12’6” class was taken by Packet Casey, with a time of 1:18:03, barely squeaking by Justin Cook’s time of 1:18:27.

Helga Goebel, the favorite to win the Women’s category, was surprised by newcomer Hope Miller, whose time of 1:22:15 bested Helga by over 3 minutes. Matt Wise once again took first in the Junior Boy’s division at 1:18:31, showing that he is going to be a dominant force on the race circuit in the future.

In the traditional paddleboard divisions, Brian Bencie took top honors in the Men’s Open Stock with a time of 1:21:16. Greg Schmidt had the fastest overall time of 1:20:22, taking first in the Men’s Over-50 division. Cynthia Aguilar once again came in first in the Women’s Open in 1:28:06.

In the King/Queen of the Beach sprint event, Chase Kosterlitz smoked the field, proving that he is a formidable opponent in any format. Cynthia Aguilar easily put away her competition in the Women’s division leaving no doubt that she owns the Queen of the Beach.

This year’s event was a great success. After the trophy presentation, the lucky winners of our free raffle were able to take home some great products donated by our sponsors.

We would like to recognize Lipship Marine for their generous cash sponsorship and, also, SeaTow and Brevard Ocean Rescue, who provided the all-important water safety support. And, as always, thanks to Dick Catri and John Griffin for the opportunity to stage our event at the Easter Surf Fest. All proceeds from this event go entirely to support the Cocoa Beach Surf Museum.

Last, but most important, we want to thank our many volunteers who make the FSPBC a success year after year.

Coming up, don’t miss the 12th Annual Waterman’s Challenge and Luau. Early registration on May 31, water events on June 1 and 2, and luau on June 1. All events at the International Palms Resort. Check our website at www.cocoabeachsurfmuseum.org for an entry form and additional information.

Volunteer meetings are held the first Wednesday of each month at the Museum. All are welcome!

The Cocoa Beach Surf Museum is located in the Ron Jon Watersports
Bldg. Call 258-8217 or visit www.cocoabeachsurfmuseum.org.

Check Facebook — “Cocoa Beach Surf Museum.” Volunteer meetings are held at the Museum at 7 p.m. on the first Wednesday of each month. All are welcome. Programs are supported in part through a grant sponsored by the Brevard County Board of County Commissioners and managed by the Brevard Cultural Alliance.

During my childhood years bedtime was 9 o’clock. Teeth brushed, face washed, prayers recited, then Mom tucked me in. A short while later my favorite lullaby would commence: the distant and lonesome whistle of Southern Railway Train Number 41 winding her way down the valley towards Knoxville, Chattanooga, Birmingham, and eventually, New Orleans. Many’s the night I fell asleep imagining myself reclining in one of her Pullman cars, destined for exotic lands and grand adventures.

Those long dormant memories were revived when Sally suggested we celebrate our 25th with a transcontinental train ride. She further cited that the only train truly befitting the observance of our silver anniversary was the Canadian. The Canadian is the undisputed flagship of Via-Rail, Canada’s passenger railway system, and has been named among the five greatest rail journeys in the world by National Geographic.

The westbound Canadian departs Toronto each Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday at 9 a.m. and arrives in Vancouver four days later. Along the way she circumnavigates four of the Great Lakes, traverses vast prairies, scales the Rocky Mountains, and affords her passengers the experience of a lifetime. A reincarnation of the great trains of yesteryear, nostalgia ranks high among the Canadian’s strongest allures. Railway historians, professional and armchair, come from across the globe to travel aboard her impeccably restored 1950s vintage streamlined cars. Equally reminiscent of the golden age of rail travel is Via’s legendary Sleeper Plus service, offered exclusively aboard the Canadian and her eastbound sister. Sleeper Plus includes private cabin accommodations, three gourmet meals each day, and even a daily champagne happy hour.

Despite these many charms, the Canadian’s greatest appeal is the magnificent landscape through which she rolls. To travel across the breadth of Canada aboard this grand train is to appreciate the inspiring beauty, diverse nature, and sheer vastness of the North American continent. Toronto’s Union Station, a grandiose tribute to the British Empire’s conquest of the frozen north, is the starting point of our adventure.

Beneath the stratospheric, arched marble ceilings we present our tickets and are promptly shown to the boarding lounge where we sip hot tea and mingle with other passengers — a few other Americans, a British couple, an inquisitive German gentleman, four French railway workers on holiday, but mostly Canadians of the 50-plus demographic. Soon boarding is announced, and we proceed through an imposing archway displaying the chiseled words, “To Trains.” The odyssey begins in earnest as the Canadian rolls past the futuristic CN Tower and urban Toronto surrenders to an agrarian countryside budding with the promise of spring. Jack, our gracious steward, introduces himself and points out that Ontario, the name of the province through which we are traveling, means “shining waters” in the Iriquois language. He invites us to one the Canadian’s four domed observation cars where he introduces us to some fellow travelers while alternately pointing out passing scenic vistas. We lunch on grilled salmon with a caramel carrot cake dessert as a landscape of pine forests sprinkled with so many rivers and lakes that we soon lose count.

Ontario, a leg of the journey I had assumed would be uninspiring, has shown itself to be incredibly beautiful. We are at the apex of Lake Superior, about to cross the great northern plains. The transformation is stark, and abrupt, and marks our passage into Manitoba. The lake-strewn woodlands of Ontario become a memory, the endless, open, windswept prairie a reality. In Winnipeg we step off the train for a short while, but the cold grayness of the afternoon drives us back aboard early where Jack and his crewmates bid us farewell. They will work tomorrow’s eastbound Canadian back to Toronto, but he assures us we are being left in capable hands.

In the night, Saskatoon and all of Saskatchewan passes unseen. Next morning, Julie, our new steward, proudly informs us that she is a third-generation railroader, her father and grandfather having had careers with the Canadian Pacific. She suggests we go right to the dome car, advising that seats will become scarce as we enter the mountains. Beyond Edmonton the grade steepens and the locomotives struggle to maintain speed. Our course parallels a raging white-water river as mountains rise on either side. Past Moose Lake the trains slows, then stops, yielding to a herd of bighorn sheep. The beauty surrounding us seems too much to absorb as we crest the continental divide and coast into Jasper.

Totems mark the street corners in this picturesque mountain town where many passengers disembark, and others join us for the final, downhill run to Vancouver. We mark the distance now with wildlife sightings rather than mileposts. By dinner-time the count stands at three bear, one wolf, a moose and her calf, and more elk than could be counted. The Canadian follows the winding Frazier River, rolling toward the rugged Pacific Coast and the setting sun. Delivering our morning coffee, Julie informs us that we expect to reach Vancouver two hours late — a great offense elsewhere in the modern world, but on board the Canadian it means the chef will prepare a full breakfast, rather than the advertised continental. All too soon we gather our bags in the Vancouver depot, check in for the airport transfer, and realize we’ll re-cross the continent in only one-twelfth the time.

Truly great journeys, I am reminded, are not measured in hours saved or miles conquered, but in memories made — and sometimes, in childhood fantasies fulfilled.

CRsurf founder Greg Gordon getting ready for a “board meeting” in Pavones
(Photo: Makistyle)

Forecast

Caribbean Coast: For waves, there are not a lot of swell makers this month as the Atlantic quiets down and it’s before the hurricane season starts up. Don’t expect more than a week of surf over chest high, with mostly knee to waist surf or smaller. This offers a great opportunity to learn to surf on a quiet palm-lined beach or do some snorkeling or scuba and spot some turtles or dolphins.

Pacific Coast: May is a consistent month for surf and it starts with a 1-2 foot overhead SSW swell that lasts through the 4th. Then expect more steady head-high waves and another pulse of south showing on the 8th. Past that, there is a week’s wait for more overhead SSW action, which will peak around the 23rd and then won’t show again until the end of the month with a monster southwest swell.

New moon: May 9   Full moon: May 24

Travel

Here are a few of the specialty camps we can help you reserve this summer: First, there is a new surf camp offered by Marbella Surf Inn and hosted by pro-surfer Aaron Cormican; The Gorky Park Surf Camp has something for surfers at all skill levels and includes transportation, lodging, lessons, and all meals — the first dates are June 11-18; Real Surf Trips will be hosting surf training camps with three-time world women’s surf champ Lisa Andersen; and Witch’s Rock Surf Camp is hosting Robert August in their shaping room to craft new boards and meet with guests of the camp.

We can help you with reservations for all of these camps plus find the best discounts, like getting $250 off any standard Safari Surf School vacation package when you book your Costa Rica surf trip for the months of May and August. Or Rich Coast Diving is offering combo surf and dive packages with accommodations starting at $220 per person with lodging. An open-water diving course and a five-night stay is only $475. Here are a few others:

Mention CRSURF at these local businesses for deals:

• H2O Go South is offering 10% off boat trips to Witch’s Rock and Ollies Point!
• 15% discount at La Dolce Vita (from April 15 to November 30)
• 10% off at Adventure Inn near the airport in San Jose
• 10 % off at Costa Rica Surf Institute in Tamarindo
• 20% discount at Cafe Playa Negra
• 15% discount at Pavones Riviera

Best flights: Flights to Costa Rica are still relatively cheap this month, and Spirit Air just had some $200 roundtrip flights (plus baggage fees) from Fort Lauderdale to San Jose. During the summer months expect to pay at least $350 roundtrip from Orlando or Miami, so get your tickets early for a little savings.

Contests

CRSURF team riders and Pavones locals Leilani and Noe Mar McGonagle are having the best year yet on the Costa Rica National Surf Tour. They both just won 1st Place (Open and Womens Division) in the Copa Oakley held in Santa Teresa. Their next stop is May 25-26 in Nosara.

CR Surf Travel Company has partnered with Waves Costa Rica to sponsor the Surf For Youth series, a program that helps local kids learn to surf and learn about the ocean. They are looking for additional sponsors for surf contests for the kids and donations of new and used surfing equipment. Email us if you can bring anything down to donate. Find out more here: www.crsurf.com/news/community/Surf-for-Youth-sponsor.html

Environment/Community

If you are traveling to Costa Rica, then before you leave visit Pack For a Purpose (www.packforapurpose.org). They match up hotels that are working with communities and travelers and have wish lists of supplies that visitors can bring down. It could be anything from t-shirts to medical supplies, art supplies, or tools. One hotel that participates is La Palapa Resort near Manuel Antonio if you want to help.

CR Surf Travel Company is a member of 1% for the Planet, pledging to donate one percent of our proceeds to environmental causes. It is part of our mission to help keep our oceans blue by supporting small hotels and camps that contribute to their community. We have also just been certified as a Benefit Corporation in California, pledging to think of sustainable practices in every business decision.

To find out other events in the beachside communities of Costa Rica, just sign up for our surf report:
www.crsurf.com/subscribe.html

Follow us on Facebook: www.facebook.com/crsurf

Get our Tweets on Twitter: www.twitter.com/crsurf

This month, we talk to Tim Chastain, owner and lead guide for the Cocoa Beach-based Fin Expedition Kayaking, a local eco-tour outfit that concentrates on the Thousand Islands conservation area he started officially in 2005.

But the fact is that Chastain, who for many years worked on the Space Shuttle Program as a diver recovering solid rocket boosters and in many other capacities, began thinking about starting the company way back in 1999.

“I wanted to have a post-Shuttle occupation in the downtown Cocoa Beach area, one that would be fulfilling to me and get me onto the water,” he reveals. “The Space Shuttle Columbia in-flight break-up was the major reason for getting Fin Expeditions actually moving. I knew the Program was going to be limited, so I had a plan in place. I left KSC in 2006 and went paddling.”

As for his location in downtown Cocoa Beach, Chastain finds it ideal. “I love being a part of the downtown Cocoa Beach economy. It’s a economy that really has me intrigued. I think about my small success, and how that fits the downtown, and how we need small and large successes,” he says. “Cocoa Beach is a cool place to have a business.”

“I have a highly desirable job in a highly desirable community, all within six blocks of my home,” he continues. “When I come over the bridge and see our community on the narrow barrier island, it really gives perspective. Many of my visiting customers comment on how lucky I am to live here.”

Chastain chatted with us about what makes his company so unique and why horseshoe crabs give him the creeps…

What do you think Fin Expeditions offers that similar kayak tour companies don’t?

I think most eco tour providers offer a great experience. The unique environment makes it easy. But attention to detail is a key component of Fin Expeditions. A good example of attention to detail is that all life jackets and gear are cleaned and sanitized after each trip. Whenever you book a tour with a outfitter, ask if the gear is washed between trips. Clean, high-quality gear is one of many details that contributes to our success.

Describe a typical expedition and one of your more memorable trips out on the water.

All my customers and expeditions are different. I custom-tailor each trip to the group to personalize each trip. That last thing my customers want is a “canned tour.” The interpretation is hardly ever the same. Fin Expeditions does not have a “manatee or dolphin-specific tour.” We have a two-hour eco kayak expedition into the lagoon habitat where we hope to find all the animals that thrive there — from the water strider bug, birds of all types, mangrove canopies where fish hatcheries exist, to the manatee and an occasional dolphin. But, alas, they are wild… Sometimes we see them, sometimes we don’t. As for memorable trips, one thing, time and time again, is witnessing children with autism or other disabilities having flashes of awakenings around manatees or dolphins. It’s simply amazing to see the changes these encounters produce.

What would you say is the percentage of locals that come to you as opposed to visitors?

I’d say 60% visitors, 40% locals. My locals repeat often. 89.5 WFIT radio is featuring Fin Expeditions Kayaking to enhance my local percentage; you can tune in on Saturday at 3 p.m. for “Roots Rock Reggae” with Ras Michael McCalla and Sunday at 1 p.m. for “Stray Cat Lounge” with Joni-O. And also during weekday drive time for “Morning Edition” and “All Things Considered.” It’s cool stuff and I like supporting these public radio programs.

What might residents be surprised to learn about the river and its environs?

People from all over the world have ranked kayaking in the Thousand Islands as an experience as good as any in the world. We have a world-class environment right in our backyard.

In your wide experience out on the river, what do you see as the biggest local threat to this fragile environment?

Fertilizers, septic tanks, and stormwater.

Is there a misconception out there about the local ecosystem you’d like to dispel?

When we had our sea grass die off in the Thousand Islands last year, the water was crystal clear — not as a result of reduced sunlight due to opacity, but because of an algae bloom. That grass went Crayola red… It was like a painting from the past. I wonder sometimes, do we really understand what’s going on out there ?

What do you do in your spare time?

Take care of my family, my plantation, and volunteer in the community wherever I can. I also like working on projects and concepts that problem-solve and help our community. Rather than rail and rant about what’s wrong, I invite all to pick a problem in our community and try to solve it. Oh, one more thing: I like to take my high-performance, show-quality dune buggy and snatch second gear coming out of a curve on a mountain road in North Carolina with the fall foliage and leaves swirling behind me with my Gina by my side.

It’s said that horseshoe crabs freak you out. What’s that all about?

I was five-years-old, I had escaped my mother, and was walking a bulkhead on the Banana River Lagoon and fell into water that was only one-foot deep and I couldn’t get out. For two hours I was in the water with at least 100 of those buggers all around me. I think the experience modified my behavior for a while. Trust me, it truly sucked — big time. My mom also reinforced it in her own way when she got me home. Thanks for asking, but I would prefer to change the subject now…

To book a tour with Fin Expeditions Kayaking, call 698-7233 or visit www.finexpeditions.com. Tours are approximately two hours, and cost $30 per person with a maximum number of 13 kayakers per tour. Reservations are required. Expedition times vary depending on animal behavior, weather conditions, sun angles, sun intensity, and time of year. Tim leads tours seven days a week.

This month’s “Bartender of the Month” is a real character, so it makes sense that he’s a proud native of Atlantic City, New Jersey, of all places.

Fishlips patrons love Bobby’s infectious sense of humor, his wry take on life, and his drink mixing skills, but we love him for just being himself.

When he’s not bartending, he enjoys the overall “chill” vibe of the beachside and riding his beach cruiser along the shore.

Read on to find out what’s on his bucket list and why he loathes poor old Tony Romo…

Congratulations, Bobby!

How long have you been tending bar?

I’ve been slinging drinks for 17 years and I’ve loved every minute of it!

What’s your drink of choice? 

I’m a simple man; just give me a Mich Ultra and a chilled Fireball. There are so many pictures of me holding an Ultra people think they pay me…

What’s the strangest thing you’ve witnessed from behind the bar?

I once saw a woman chug a beer while breastfeeding a baby!

Got a hangover cure?

Sleep, water, sleep some more.

Most overrated drink? 

Anything with Grey Goose. They did a great job marketing their product, so people think its great. It’s not!

Who would you relish kicking out of your bar? 

Any member of the Dallas Cowboys. Especially Tony Romo, because if he tries to throw me a tip at last call it will definitely get intercepted!

Is there a celebrity you’d love to serve? 

I idolize Howard Stern and Jerry Seinfeld, but I would love to serve Si Robertson from “Duck Dynasty.” He’d be a lot of fun!

What would you like to come back as in your next life? 

A more handsome and wiser Bobby Pella.

What’s on your bucket list?

To never have a bucket list.

What would you order for your last meal? 

A cheesesteak with lettuce, tomato, fried onions, and hot peppers from the world-famous White House Sub Shop in Atlantic City, NJ.

If you won the lottery, what would you do with the winnings? 

Nah, Bobby don’t play dat…

Where do you like to spend time on the other side of the bar? 

Sunday afternoons at Hunker Down is my spot! The tourists can go to Coconuts while the locals party at Hunker Down, baby!

Parting words of wisdom?

Laugh A LOT, and pay close attention because the beauty of life is in the details.

Robin Trower
Roots and Branches
V-12 Records; 2012

Robin Trower, long known as a guitarist’s guitarist, recently released this collection of blues classics mixed with originals and shows off his legendary chops at each and every turn. With 50 years of performing under his belt, Trower often fails to get the attention or the credit he deserves. His commercial career highlight may have come with the seminal Bridge of Sighs, but he soldiered on and continued to play with the determination of a dedicated bluesman. With Roots and Branches, Trower is shrewd enough to bring something fresh to the songs he does cover rather than simply busting through familiar retellings of songs we’ve already heard played to death. “Hound Dog” has a deep groove that brings it closer to the original Big Mama Thorton reading than the King’s loose-hipped shoutalong — and the same goes for “That’s Alright Mama,” where the pace is grittier and unhurried. Elsewhere, “Little Red Rooster” and “Born Under a Bad Sign” are raw, blistering workouts in which Trower never misses an opportunity to show off one more trick he’s been saving for the right moment. Gifted and often sly in his playing, he offers up everything here, from the subtle to the incendiary. The closing number, “See My Life,” finds him setting his tone to mimic Hendrix; it’s both a plausible imitation and pays homage to Trower’s own musical inspiration. He easily earns the respect of anyone who ever picked up a guitar and tried to make it sing. Required listening for guitar heroes of all ages. — M.A. Rivera

Heidi Happy
On the Hills
ToneQuake; 2013

If it were 1968, we’d probably be given our first introduction to Swiss songstress Heidi Happy via a cameo in one of the “Pink Panther” films. Heidi Happy is not only as sunny and camera-ready as her name implies, but she also brings with her a remarkable collection of enticing Europop songs with indie rock twists that are both tuneful and highly memorable. The opening title track has a nice country/folk feel to it and finds Happy’s voice as soft as down and her inflections as subtle as a gentle breeze. But she’s just warming up, because “Big Boy” picks up the pace a bit, and she has you moving on the dance floor with the cleverly misleading “Dance with Another.” It fairly shimmies before she swears that she “can never dance with another,” but halfway through it commits and yields to the beat. (I double-dog dare you to sit still while it plays.) Later on, “Land of Horses” comes across as dark and unsettling and features a melody that curls like wisps of smoke. Each track on On the Hills is a gem in its own right; they’re all individually crafted and carefully thought out and Happy wisely avoids an easy, cookie-cutter approach to the instrumentation and arrangements. Both fun and flirty, On the Hills demands repeated listens. It’s far more than just another handful of twee songs from a pixieish girl with an acoustic guitar. — M.A. Rivera

Steve Mason
Monkey Minds in the Devil’s Time
Domino; 2013

As principal songwriter and vocalist for the Beta Band, Steve Mason set the now-defunct Scottish quartet on a peculiar course that eventually led them to critical and popular approval. Their Three EPs plied dangerous hip-hop waters and avoided crunchy folk shoals to announce something totally unique when it was released in 1998, and the collection remains one of the unsung musical masterpieces of that decade. Living up to the hype, however, proved difficult, and the Betas dissolved after some promising yet ultimately lackluster followups ending with the prophetically-named Heroes to Zeros in 2004. Mason’s bandmates went on to pursue other projects while he kept busy releasing a few titillating curiosities under various monikers while struggling with severe depression. Mason’s latest, the title of which is a Buddhist expression for an unfocused state of being, is, ironically, an exceptionally determined effort to lay his demons to rest, and while the 20 tracks seem like frayed parts of a diffuse whole at first listen, repeated plays reveal a concerted progression from selfish reclusion to selfless action. The first half is vintage Mason singing in melodic, somnolent tones, but the second develops an understated resolve to set the world right with some martial beats and swelling choruses. He still has a long way to go, but Monkey Minds is a firmly planted step in the right direction. — T. Bennison

Various Artists
Feel Like Jumping: The Best of Studio One Women
Heartbeat; 2000

Taking its name from Marcia Griffiths’ richly layered classic, this compilation of recordings made in Clement “Coxsone” Dodd’s legendary Kingston-based Studio One covers popular female reggae artists from the ‘60s to the ‘80s. If Bob Marley’s birthplace is the Jerusalem of the reggae pilgrimage, Studio One is surely its Bethlehem, and its name is still synonymous with excellence and innovation. More popularly regarded as the Motown of Jamaica, the influential Studio One label and studio was founded by Dodd back in 1954, and he is still credited with the discovery of the Wailers, Toots & the Maytals, the Skatalites, and scores of other quintessentially Jamaican bands. While male artists had few problems breaking into the overseas reggae and ska markets during their heyday, many female performers toiled away in relative obscurity (when they weren’t relegated to backup singing duties to bigger touring stars). But under Dodd’s tutelage, performers like Nina Soul, Little Audrey, Norma Frasier, and Hortense Ellis found their own remarkable voices in a decidedly crowded chauvinistic genre — which is odd when you consider reggae’s purported message of acceptance and inclusion. Songs like “No, No, No” (Dawn Penn) and “Feel So Good” (Denise Darlington) help revise the history Marley and his compatriots often wrote with iron-fisted bravado and shed welcome light on an overlooked chapter in music. You’re sure to find Jerry Jones’s soaring take on “Compared to What?” and Doreen Shaffer’s “Try a Little Smile” especially rewarding, but from beginning to end, Feel Like Jumping is nothing less than a revelation. — T. Bennison

Granted, what Becci does isn’t particularly unique — swimsuit designers sell their wares in plenty of more upscale locales, from Miami to Naples — but it’s amazing to think that this unassuming little shop in the heart of lowly, downtown Cocoa Beach produced a swimsuit Kate Moss showed off in the pages of Vogue.

At Mar Chiquita, Becci hand-draws her swimsuit designs and sees them through to completion with local seamstresses who help make her dreams become reality. Swimsuits designed in Cocoa Beach and made right here in Florida? It doesn’t get much better than that.
 
Becci, a Pennsylvania native, describes herself as an Air Force brat who spent as much time as possible in Cocoa Beach while growing up. “I have a BA from Auburn, and my Uncle Phil worked for Lockheed, so I was here a lot,” she says. “My Gram and I got sand in our shoes after a visit and decided to stay.”

That was in 1975, but the year she spent sudying at New York City’s FIT (the Fashion Institute of Technology) during her junior year in college is what inspired her to pursue fashion in earnest.
 
“I was really interested in apparel history and wanted to be a buyer for a major department store,” she explains. “Instead, I ended up with Blue Man Bikinis — they made the first Brazilian bikinis to hit the beaches in Florida — and then went on to Tahchee, which originated in Australia, and the beat went on.”

But those ventures required a lot of traveling for Becci and she soon felt the need to settle down. “I established Mar Chiquita here in 1998 when I had my daughter, Maggie, and needed to slow down on my travels.”
 
Yet as personal as that decision was for her, she’s quick to credit a core group of friends for Mar Chiquita’s foundation.

“The name comes from a beautiful beach in Puerto Rico that my good friend Barbie Graves had just visited. Andrea Martin — who modeled for me for years — designed the logo. The business itself is the result of a collaboration of ideas from many wonderful people, both past and present. Ashley and Ryen White have been an integral part in of Mar Chiquita’s success and have been a huge influence on keeping the brand fresh and current.”

Each of Becci’s design concepts stem from her impressive knowledge of the cyclical history of fashion, what’s happening around the world at the moment, customer requests, and a canny understanding of what will appeal to people six to nine months in advance.
 
Becci sources her fabrics from Europe and the suits are made in south Florida.

What Mar Chiquita customers love most, Becci says, is their ability to buy tops and bottoms separately from a wide array of colors and prints. “Once they know the style and size they need,” she continues, “it’s a breeze to find what they want every time.”
 
When I ask her about her favorite creation, doesn’t hesitate to mention the one Kate Moss wore in the pages of Vogue, and she describes it as “a thrill” to have seen many of her designs featured in other major magazines as well as on television.

Yet as far away as the Mar Chiquita name has traveled, Becci is proud of her Cocoa Beach connections. “This is a wonderful place to live,” she tells me. “It offers daily inspiration and a nice mix of locals and visitors looking who appreciate fresh designs.”

Visit Becci at Mar Chiquita, located at 1 N. Atlantic Ave. in downtown Cocoa Beach. Call 868-0868. They offer friendly, knowledgeable customer service and love to cater to their solid base of local, repeat customers. Visit their Facebook page: “MarChiquitaCB”

This May, I’ll not only celebrate the loving institution of motherhood, but also that tradition’s finest exponent: my own mother, Carol Bennison.

Her birthday falls on the 5th — Cinco de Mayo, coincidentally, which commemorates the day when she donned a sombrero, a six-shooter, and two bandoliers strapped across a tasteful lavender cocktail dress to rally the Mexican forces against the snooty, mustachioed French invaders back in 1862.

She was actually born on the 4th, long after that significant event, but I held her in such awe that I attributed many victories and legendary accomplishments to her as a child. (Plus, I thought the Cinco de Mayo thing was pretty funny…)

Carol Lee Chichetti was born to second-generation Italians Joseph Chichetti and Maria Festa in Brooklyn, NY in 1936. She married my late father (not when he was late; he was alive then and was usually on time), Richard Tobin Bennison, a native of West Point, NY, in 1967 and raised Jennifer Lee, myself (Patrick Tobin), and Brendhan Joseph to become fairly decent human beings, and she’s also a loving grandmother to four girls who seem to have inherited her sassiness and self-deprecating sense of humor.

Though she’ll be turning 77 this month, you wouldn’t guess it by looking at her. She still looks fantastic and is in great health, despite not being able to hear all that well. This means that I often have to repeat things several times in a louder voice.

I SAID, ‘THAT MEANS I OFTEN HAVE TO REPEAT THINGS SEVERAL TIMES IN A LOUDER VOICE’…

A LOUDER VOICE!

THE THINGS I HAVE TO REPEAT!

NO, NOT YOUR FRIEND JOYCE! VOICE! A LOUDER…

Oh, never mind…

What can I say about her? She brought me into the world, put up with truckloads of grief, nurtured me, prepared me for life’s obstacles, makes me laugh, loves me unconditionally, makes Mario Batali look like Chef Boyardee, and once, in a fit of rage, broke a wooden spoon over my brother’s head.

Happy Birthday and Mother’s Day, Mom.

I SAID, ‘HAPPY BIRTH…’

Oh, fer chrissakes. Forget it…

Love,  Your Editor.

In medieval bestiaries — fanciful catalogues of animals and their behaviors — the rhinoceros is often associated with the unicorn. One entry written in 1451 claims that “No hunter can catch him. But he can be trapped by the following stratagem. A virgin girl is led to where he lurks, and there she sent off by herself into the wood. He soon leaps into her lap when he sees her, and embraces her, and hence gets caught.”

The reality of course is much less poetic, but that passage offers some insight into the myths attached to rhinoceros horn, which in powdered form is highly prized for its supposed curative properties and reputation as a powerful aphrodisiac.

Each year, the number of rhinos being poached for their horns has been increasing steadily, and a February 2013 report put out by the South African Department of Environmental Affairs claims that 128 rhinos have been poached since the beginning of the year. That’s a staggering statistic, and even more shocking when you learn that the report cites just 46 arrests associated with poachings during that same span of time. Those figures are better than the ones culled from years past, but much work remains to be done. Locals Morgan and Zach Cooney are more than up to the task.

The 22-year-old twins’ interest in counter-poaching began while visiting a wildlife reserve on their first trip to Africa. “We witnessed a leopard that had bitten through its own leg to escape a snare,” recalls Morgan. “This beautiful animal had such a will to survive that she endured the pain of gnawing through her own leg to be free again. I cannot imagine the fear she must have felt as the wire closed around her leg trapping her.” Despite rescue attempts the leopard died, but the pair vowed to do something to protect animals from that horror.

About two years after that incident, they began seeing reports of rhinos being killed by poachers at alarming rates. “We also saw the requests for dedicated individuals to work as counter-poaching rangers in efforts to combat the rise in poaching in order to protect rhinos. Zach and I knew this was what we needed to do. We could not let an animal disappear from this earth if there was something we could do about it.”

Travel and adventure are in the Cooney clan’s blood. Together with father Mike, mother Catrell, and younger brother Harrison, Morgan and Zach have traveled to over 50 countries. In 2008, Mike and Catrell sold virtually everything they owned to take their three sons on a yearlong around-the-world trek before settling in Cape Canaveral and starting Cooney World Adventures, a full-service travel agency.

The experiences Morgan and Zach shared with their family instilled in them an appreciation for various cultures and an abiding love of nature, and they’re passionate about protecting wildlife. In September 2012, Morgan and Zach traveled to South Africa and Botswana for five months where they helped protect rhinos, took a Trails Guide course, and participated in a Tactical Counter-Poaching training program near Cape Town.

But the dangerous work they performed as counter-poaching rangers was a project they created themselves. “Although we worked for certain organizations at different times such as counter-poaching training units, private reserves with rhinos, and the South African National Parks, we had to create all the connections ourselves,” Morgan explains. “Some organizations were not what they seemed at first and we realized that due to the publicity rhino poaching is receiving worldwide. Many organizations jump on the bandwagon of conservation to make money rather than protect wildlife. A lot of research went into choosing each of the organizations we helped with our overall mission to protect rhinos.”

“Rhinos are only poached for their horns,” Zach says, “and they are beautiful animals with unique personalities one can only realize once he or she has spent time with them. The people involved with rhino poaching are not doing this to feed their families as a mere form of sustenance; these groups are high-level crime syndicates that will do whatever it takes to make a profit, even if it means illegally killing endangered wildlife.”

One of their most memorable experiences while in Africa was their time guarding Ronnie, a three-year-old white rhino. “Because we weren’t directly part of the dog unit on the reserve where we were, we had the ability to sleep in the day and stay up all night,” Zach explains. “We would usually get dropped off around four in the afternoon, then go to the boma to talk to Ronnie and let him know that we were there before beginning our patrol of the area throughout the night to guard him from poachers. Although he was a wild rhino, while he was in the quarantined area he began to trust us and even expect us at night. I really feel like we bonded with him during the two weeks we guarded him.”

Locally, Morgan and Zach are similarly devoted to keeping humans safe. Both have been members of Brevard County Ocean Rescue for close to four years and are lifeguards for the County and Jetty Park. “We love what the job entails: being on the beach and getting to help save lives,” Zach tells me. “Lifeguarding definitely helped with our physical fitness while in Africa, and the long days of watching the water and patrolling helped prepare us for our work while guarding wildlife as well.”

Whether at our local beaches or in the South African bush, these two remarkable young men have made it their broader mission to protect and respect life in all its forms.

Learn more about their amazing adventures on Facebook (“CooneyWildlifeAdventures”) or check out their video on YouTube (“Elephants Mashatu”). You can also visit www.cooneyworldadventures.com or call the travel agency at (407) 477-5833

David Bowie
The Next Day
ISO/Columbia; 2013

Ziggy Stardust and Diamond Dogs aren’t so much classic albums in the listenable sense as they are cultural touchstones and products of distinct periods in David Bowie’s remarkable career. More than any other musician of his generation, his albums cry out for context to be fully appreciated, and The Next Day, his latest, is no exception. Knowing that it’s not only his 27th album, but his first in 10 years (and 5 years since undergoing emergency surgery after a severely blocked artery), or that it directly references his infamous Berlin period lyrically, musically, and visually (the cover art is a post-modern emendation of “Heroes”) isn’t necessary to enjoyment, but it does reveal the richer dimensions that make The Next Day such an astounding recording. After spending the ‘60s and ‘70s defining rock, fashion, and culture, ensuing decades saw him pack stadiums on the strength of some fairly pedestrian material before struggling to stay relevant with some misguided forays into hard rock and electronica. The Next Day, then, finds the world having come round to his abiding vision, one that puts artistic action before empty posturing. The wisely chosen first single, “Where Are We Now?”, is the kind of ruminative ballad we’ve been longing for Bowie to make for years, and it doesn’t disappoint. Over piano chords that start simply before taking an illogical turn for the alien, Bowie simultaneously comforts and unsettles with some of the most heartbreaking lyrics he’s ever written, where “walking the dead” becomes just as prosaic an activity as brushing one’s teeth. The rest of the album finds his inimitable voice in similarly excellent fettle, whether he’s shouting through the urgent title track or lending his smooth croon to other standouts like “Valentine’s Day” and “The Stars (Are Out Tonight).” — T. Bennison

Billy Bragg
Tooth & Nail
Cooking Vinyl; 2013

With 15 albums to his name and the sort of activist credibility Bono still yearns for, Billy Bragg continues to ask the big questions with this latest release. He’s accompanied here with a full band of accomplished session players, in much the same vein as the Mermaid Avenue albums he did with Wilco. “January Song” feels like a blog entry, mixing politics with personal observations and leaving one with some annoyance and uneven conclusions. He steps up his game with “No One Knows Nothing Anymore.” The song is timely — as indeed it would have been five or even fifteen years ago — in light of the public left holding the bill for corporate irresponsibility. “What happens when the markets drop/If the numbers really don’t add up?” Bragg sings, before adding in a weary tone, “But what if there’s nothing, no pot of gold to find?/Only the blind leading the blind.” “Do Unto Others” is Bragg’s reminder that once you discard labels, Christian values are socialist values. “There Will Be a Reckoning” sounds more like vintage Bragg than anything else here, with lines like, “I don’t need to be forgiven/For something I haven’t done.” Finally, he’s found a fight worthy of his energy. But it’s when he focuses on more intimate and personal matters that he comes across stronger. “Handyman Blues” is delivered in his working-class Brit accent and it’s sweet, sly, and off the cuff, something he may have penned over that first cup of tea in the morning while staring at an uncompleted DIY project. The music here is more laconic than what he did with Wilco; Bragg leans heavily against the pianist throughout, and his voice is often sleepy and wry. It all feels like catching up with an old friend whose frantic life has slowed down to a pace more like your own. — M.A. Rivera

Beth Hart
Bang Bang Boom Boom
Ais; 2013

This is a second act for Beth Hart. Having struggled with some painful (and rather cliché) addictions, she’s managed to work through them and deliver an impressive comeback release. Opening with “Baddest Blues,” Hart channels Billie Holiday’s tormented sense of loss and asks questions perhaps too direct for most: “If this is love/What was I thinking?/If this is love/What the hell am I going to do?” The title track neatly balances between camp musical number and torch song, and is elegantly seductive and hard to resist. “Swing My Thing Around” is a big band, horn-fueled number, where we get hints of Ma Rainey’s assertive style. This tough, brassy number will make hips swing whether they feel like it or not. “Spirit of God” is a soulful gospel/jazz tune in sharp contrast to the white trash, Stax soul declaration of “Ugliest House on the Block” — but at least she still seems to possess a sense of humor. A warm Hammond B3 organ accompaniment sweeps through, dead sexy and the perfect adornment for her smoky, world weary observations. “Everything Must Change” acknowledges the journey that brought Miss Hart to this moment in time; the moment where everything comes due, and her voice is suitably heavy with acceptance, defeat, and resignation. All promises are called in, empty or otherwise. This time around, Hart wears her scars with a dignity that gives her permission to sing about her anguish and own it. All the broken pieces have been set back together in this audio collage. The blues, swing, and revival gospel declare that she’s done being kicked around by life, and that it’s her turn now. — M.A. Rivera

Paul McCartney
Ram
Apple; 1971

Contempt for Ram, Paul McCartney’s second solo album after the Beatles split, was so virulent that even Ringo, easily the most gracious of his ex-bandmates, called it “sad” and an indication that Paul was “going strange.” Looking back, it’s easy to see why it inspired such disdain. Acrimony following the band’s breakup a year before was still palpable and certainly wasn’t helped by the tangled legal web the quartet found themselves trying to wriggle free of. What’s more, both the split and the legal proceedings were being blamed on Paul’s megalomania and hunger for control. As for the contents of Ram itself, many critics viewed the somewhat schmaltzy tunes as undeniable proof that McCartney was nothing without Lennon, whose first solo effort, Plastic Ono Band, released a year prior, offered worlds more bite and depth. But time has been kind to Ram, and its boundless creativity is illustrative of McCartney’s invaluable contributions to the Beatles oeuvre: singable, memorable melodies, childlike enthusiasm, and a cozy familiarity that made the quartet seem more like one’s friends rather than untouchable gods. Ram’s biggest hit, the mini-opus “Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey,” recalls Abbey Road’s densely-packed, side-two medley, but seemingly tossed-off tracks like “The Back Seat of My Car,” “Dear Boy,” and “Heart of the Country” are just as irresistible. Officially credited to both Paul and Linda McCartney, Ram was remastered and reissued last year to much fanfare, and includes a disc of bonus tracks, the complete Thrillington (a delightful instrumental rendering of the 12 original tunes), and a DVD that features a short, making-of documentary and two promo videos. It’s hard to take an album that includes a song called “Monkberry Moon Delight” very seriously, but that’s just one hint that it never aspired to Let it Be greatness. — T. Bennison

April’s “Bartender of the Month” grew up in Memphis and has resided in Florida for 11 years now. After spending six years in the architectural field, the radiant Annette is back in the bartending game — and our lives. Join us in raising a glass to Annetti Spaghetti! Chinchin!

How long have you been tending bar?

For 3.5 years.

What’s the strangest thing you’ve witnessed from behind the bar?

Everything from fights to hardcore makeout sessions. But I was just asked where someone could rent samurai swords…

What’s your drink of choice?

A good glass of wine or some American Honey on the rocks.

Hangover cure?

I doubt there really is one but I love sleeping the next day away.

Most overrated drink? 

Fireball. I like it, but it’s not the Holy Grail.

Underrated?

Pink champagne or a refreshing vodka lemonade.

Name one famous person you’d kick out of your bar.

Matthew McConaughey. (That one’s for Fife) … And I wouldn’t mind watching him walk away.

Which celebrity, living or dead, would you most like to serve?

She’s not a celebrity, but I’d give anything in the world to make my mom a mojito and talk for hours.

What would you like to come back as in your next life?

A giraffe, of course!

What’s number one on your bucket list?

I’m hoping to finally trek into Aussieland by the end of the year.

What would you order for your last meal?

Sushi, a giant slice of cheese pizza, and a juicy hangover burger. With a bottle of JCB #69…

If you won the lottery, what would you do with the winnings?

Pay off debts and travel the world as long as I could!

Where do you like to spend time on the other side of the bar?

Beach Shack is a must, but I also love Casablanca, Surfer’s Sports Pub, and Coconuts.

Parting words of wisdom?

Make yourself happy and don’t take anything for granted!

It’s fitting that our subject for this month’s column is in the flooring business, because Carrie Fowler helps lay a solid foundation for what is the first in an ongoing series of local business owners.

Through her Discount Floors & Cabinets in downtown Cocoa Beach, Carrie takes pride in providing friendly, one-on-one customer service and excellent workmanship.

She grew up on the Gulf Coast in the Clearwater area, and moved here after marrying her husband Gary, who has been in the construction business in Brevard since 1978. The Fowlers have three daughters, one granddaughter and a grandson, Ryder Joseph, who was born this past March 22.

“Discount Floors & Cabinets was my husband’s idea,” Carrie admits. “He’s owned a framing, finish, and cabinetry business since the early ‘80s. Everyone who knows Gary knows the superior quality of his work.”

The Fowlers opened Discount Floors in 2005, but moved their showroom two blocks north to their current location at 358 N. Orlando Ave. last year.

We stopped in to chat with Carrie to find out the source of her business’s great local reputation.

Gary has a lot of experience in this field. What’s your own professional background?

I have a background in sales, design and staging. I love working with color.

What kinds of services do you offer here?

We pride ourselves on customer service. I spend a lot of time with clients getting to know their needs and wants. I say this all the time: the work we do in their homes is the most important decision they will make besides purchasing the house itself. We do a lot of custom kitchens and luxurious bathroom remodeling. We offer every type of floor covering: tile, wood, laminate, carpet… We use skilled, licensed professionals for each individual trade and insist on quality workmanship. The majority of our work is beachside, from the Port to Patrick AFB. We do travel further, but those are usually referrals, which are a huge part of our business. Locally, we’ve done work for our Fire Department, the Port Authority, and the Pig & Whistle.

What made you choose Cocoa Beach as your location? 

When we decided to open, there was no question that this would be the home for DF&C. We like the small-town feel and the fact that everybody knows everybody. The local residents and business owners all support each other and we feel a lot of pride and gratitude in being part of this community.

What has been one of your more challenging projects? 

I couldn’t narrow it down to just one. My own personal challenge is to make sure that for years to come my clients will fall in love over and over again with their new kitchens, bathrooms, or floors. My reward is witnessing their excitement when they see it all come together.

What do you think sets Discount Flooring apart from other similar businesses?

Customer service is key. I like to say that we hold our customers’ hands through the whole process. We have many DIY clients and I spend all the time they need to make them feel confident and informed. We go the extra mile to make sure their installation goes smoothly — helping with measurements, etc. Visiting their homes is routine with our DIY customers. And Gary and I really do work together well — he’s one side of the coin and I’m the other. I hear from people all the time that not a lot of married couples can work that well together. I do keep him on his toes.

What do you like best about your work?

I have fun! Every woman loves to shop, and I get to shop every day. I’m also in a beautiful location here and I get to work with so many different personalities. One client might be very traditional and the next could be very hip and contemporary. Nothing is ever routine. I’m never bored.

What do you do when you’re not working? 

I really enjoy my grandchildren. Everybody knows my granddaughter, Peyton. When she’s here she’s the only salesperson I have beside me. I also enjoy making and selling mosaic pots. There are so many beautiful and colorful tiles to work with and it’s good therapy. I also enjoy fishing and hanging out with friends, doing yard work, and driving my husband crazy.

Discount Floors & Cabinets is located 358 N. Orlando Ave. in Cocoa Beach. They’re open from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. Monday through Friday and 9 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Saturdays, but because it is a family-owned business, the Fowlers are very flexible with their hours. Carrie is happy to meet clients on the evenings and on weekends. Call them at 783-8453 or email them at: discountfloorstore@yahoo.com

Mikey Detemple enjoying the dry season’s offshore winds
(Photo: Jorgelina Agramunt)

Forecast

Caribbean Coast: Since the winter is lingering in the United States, expect the waves to keep coming through most of the month. There will be two more major swells about a week apart — the 4th and the 11th — and the rest of the month will bring consistent waist- to chest-high surf at the beach breaks.

Pacific Coast: The first southwest swell of the season arrives on the 7th and maxes out by the 9th with surf two feet overhead. Then, some south swell fills in by the 11th keeping it well overhead for another few days. After that it will drop and stay micro until a new southwest arrives around the full moon.

Why wonder what the surf is going to be like? Just check our LIVE surf cams:
www.crsurf.com/costa-rica-surf-cams.html

New moon: April 10   Full moon: April 25

Travel

Even though Spring Break just ended, now is the time to plan your summer vacation since the prices for flights are still relatively inexpensive. The cheaper seats will sell out for the more popular weeks, so plan to depart and arrive Tuesday through Thursday for the best deal. Surf camps will be dropping their prices for the green season, so if you don’t want the hassle of driving around and missing the best session since the wind switched, then search our website for multiple surf resorts that can cater to your level of experience and comfort. You can see our favorite camps here: www.crsurf.com/surfcamps.html. Email us to help plan your customized vacation: travel@crsurf.com

Contests

Two major contests take place this month, both in Santa Teresa. First is the Reef Classic April 17-20, with $10,000 in prizes. Second is the National Surf Tour event in the same location a weekend later. Both events will draw the country’s best surfers. And speaking of the best, our CRsurf team riders have done a tremendous job so far this season. Leilani McGonagle performed fantastically in the Quiksilver Cup in Dominical, finishing in first place in Womens and Jr. Womens division, plus placing third in Boys. Noe Mar took 5th place in the ASP Juniors event held recently in Cocoa Beach, and then won the Junior division of the Dominical event, plus finished third in the Open division. Our company’s mission is to improve the surf community, and one way is by supporting the local kids who are trying to

surf professionally.

Environment/Community

If you are traveling to Costa Rica, then before you leave visit Pack For a Purpose (www.packforapurpose.org). They match up hotels that are working with communities and travelers and have wish lists of supplies that visitors can bring down. It could be anything from t-shirts to medical supplies, art supplies, or tools. One hotel that participates is La Palapa Resort near Manuel Antonio if you want to help.

CR Surf Travel Company is a member of 1% for the Planet, pledging to donate one percent of our proceeds to environmental causes. It is part of our mission to help keep our oceans blue by supporting small hotels and camps that contribute to their community. We have also just been certified as a Benefit Corporation in California, pledging to think of sustainable practices in every business decision.

To find out other events in the beachside communities of Costa Rica, just sign up for our surf report:
www.crsurf.com/subscribe.html

Follow us on Facebook: www.facebook.com/crsurf

Get our Tweets on Twitter: www.twitter.com/crsurf

The Wanee Music Festival is now in its eighth year and shows no signs of slowing down. Held in bucolic Live Oak, Florida, April 18-20, this year promises three days of exceptional live music on tap.

And should you purchase a ticket to the show at the reasonable price of $205 (plus service fees) it includes admission to all three days of music and three nights of primitive camping. Let’s face it: when we were 20, we could sleep literally anywhere and it was no big deal, but camping upgrades are available through The Spirit of the Suwannee Music Park offices for those who wish to bring their RV or rent a cabin. Anyone arriving on Sunday through Wednesday prior to the event must pay a per-person charge. There are many hotels located nearby in town, which is an easy 10-minute drive from the Park. Call ahead to reserve a room as they fill up quickly.

With your ticket you may come and go from the venue as you please, but security will look into bags and outside food and drinks are frowned upon. Which brings me to the subject of vending. There’s always plenty of unique, 420-friendly merchandise available for sale in the vending area. My advice: don’t by the first latch hook tapestry shaped like Jerry Garcia’s head you see; there may be other items of equal quality or interest around the corner. You have three days to think about it.

But this show is about the music, and, as with every year, there’s a metric ton of amazing artists on hand. Keeping up with the bands on Thursday is easy as the bands are all concentrated at the smaller, more intimate Mushroom Stage. On Friday and Saturday, performances will be at the larger Peach Stage as well, with the artists’ starting times staggered. These aren’t scheduled in a way that makes it possible to see each and every performance in its entirety, but a concert program is issued with the ticket, so you can plan who you want to see accordingly.

This year’s scheduled performers include The Allman Brothers Band, Gov’t Mule, The Tedeschi Trucks Band, Beebs and her Money Makers, the Bobby Lee Rodgers Trio, Hot Tuna, Flannel Church, Leon Russell, Blackberry Smoke, and many more.

Of the few bands that do perform twice, The Allman Brothers Band do not repeat their set lists, but there are always great guest appearances by other performers. Last year’s 2012 Festival coincided with the passing of the great Levon Helm. Not only were his songs played all weekend, but Bob Weir and Susan Tedeschi joined the Allmans onstage to sing “The Weight.”

For those disinclined to drive after enjoying the festivities, shuttle busses do run regularly. But this is a fairly friendly crowd; you can ask for most anything — food or a ride — and someone will usually help out. But do apply some common sense here: in the town of Live Oak you’ll find a WalMart, Publix, and other stores ready for the onslaught of visitors who arrive ill-prepared or forgot to pack a toothbrush. There are plenty of restaurants in town as well and located within the camp is a general store with reasonable prices. I was expecting the same kind of convenience sticker-shock that comes with proximity, but everything was fairly priced. The store sells beer, wine, ice, and fishing lures for those so inclined. There is even wi-fi for those who can’t bear to be offline for more than 30 seconds.

What you do need to bring with you if you’re going to be taking advantage of the primitive camping is bug repellent, sunscreen, and everything else you would need for a few days off the grid. Earplugs are also a plus, as the party keeps going long after the show has ended. There camp offers potable water, shower facilities, and plenty of restrooms and portalets. Campground security is low-key but ever-present. Again, apply common sense: lock your valuables in your trunk. While the following words cannot and should not be taken as legal advice, it was my observation that the police were fairly tolerant of those in the audience who chose indulge in activities not yet sanctioned by the State of Florida. Wanee offers  a very mellow scene, but discretion should always be exercised.

Some people may feel as if they’ve been dropped into off by a time machine, as there are plenty of hippies of every stripe — both original and nouveau, and well-scrubbed or bona fide, brownfoot tribe die-hards are always in attendance. There are also plenty of ardent music fans who don’t feel compelled to dedicate their entire lives to enjoying live music. Entire families spanning three generations routinely come and the overall ambiance is decidedly relaxed.

On a final note, there are signs posted everywhere throughout the Park stating that no dogs are allowed on the property during the Festival. Yet it seemed like there was a dog under my feet every time I turned around. I’ve never wanted to sneak a dog into a show, and I’m unclear as to why someone would go through the trouble. Really, leave your dog at home. It’s why I’m nice to my neighbors: so they’ll feed it while I’m gone.

Find out more at www.waneefestival.com

“Talking Story with Pat O’Hare,” by James MacLaren: An excerpt

“(Pat O’Hare) was born into the surfing universe in the ‘50s, started out riding inflatable rafts, as many other kids did, and then moved on to proper stand-up surfing just as balsa was being replaced by foam as the shapers’ material of choice. His first surfboard was made out of balsa wood, not because it was chic or retro or cool, but because that’s what they were making them out of at that time. That goes back a pretty good way, and Pat has been in the thick of it ever since.

“… Imagine being a surfer in those days! It was all so free, all so open! Each new day beckoned, sparkling like a diamond. And each new jewel was taken wholeheartedly, joyously, unstintingly.

“… Life itself was a set of waves, and no one knew what was coming next, invisible, just over the horizon. But come it did, and he rode each new wave as best it could be ridden, be it brutal thrashing or a screaming rifle-shot wall ridden to safety in the channel by a gnat’s whisker.

And whether each wave was made or not made did not matter. What mattered was that he paddled back out to meet the next one and give it his best. …”

Read MacLaren’s full article on our website: www.cocoabeachsurfmuseum.com 

Coming Up: The 12th Annual Waterman’s Challenge and Luau Weekend — May 31-June 2. Friday night registration begins at 5 p.m. on the deck of Mambos, International Palms Resort. Heats start Saturday morning. Saturday night is the Luau at the International Palms. The finals are on Sunday. Follow The 2013 Waterman’s Challenge and Luau on Facebook for updates!

Ongoing: Volunteer meetings first Wednesdays at the Museum.

The Cocoa Beach Surf Museum is located in the Ron Jon Watersports
Bldg. Call 258-8217 or visit www.cocoabeachsurfmuseum.org. Check Facebook — “Cocoa Beach Surf Museum.” Volunteer meetings are held at the Museum at 7 p.m. on the first Wednesday of each month. All are welcome. Programs are supported in part through a grant sponsored by the Brevard County Board of County Commissioners and managed by the Brevard Cultural Alliance.

March proved to be outstanding for tripletail. They’re an awesome fish to target in that they put up a great fight because of the three tails that lend them their name. They’re also a pretty dumb species, which makes them easy to target when there are a lot of them about. You can start your search for them by looking on buoys and near floating debris, and if you find a nice weed line you’re sure enough to find some congregating. Shrimp and finger mullet will do the trick on these bad boys, but make sure you have a landing net, because tripletail have armored skin, which makes them hard to gaff. Make sure to tune into the Sun Sports Channel this month for my new episode of “Addictive Fishing” in which we tripletail and reveal some good tips.

April is also a good month to target the spring migration of cobia. Cobia are awesome fighting fish and promise loads of fun because you sight-fish them. On top of that, they make for delicious eating. Cobia can be caught and found in multiple ways. When chugging along in the ocean, look out for manta rays; cobia love to hang out with them. You can also find them in bait pods and free swimming on the surface, so make sure to keep an eye out at all times. If you’re a bottom fisherman you can find them on the wrecks just offshore. Cobia can be very aggressive fish and will eat pretty much anything, but the most common thing to use in search of them is a cobia jig tipped with squid.

The redfish bite is still going strong in our lagoon system. You can find them in schools and singles along the shorelines and on the flats. Most of the fish I’ve been catching on my charters have been in the 20- to 35-inch range. Jigs, jerk baits, and cut bait have worked the best for us; concentrate on fishing the pot holes, which are the sand spots you see on the grass flats.

You can also find sea trout mixed in with the redfish on the flats. My clients have been catching some nice trout, with some coming in up to 8 lbs. You can use the same method I mentioned for trout against the redfish.

Till next month, good luck out on the water!

Jamie Glasner, www.finandflycharters.com

What can I say? It’s the end of March and I think the cobia may have had a hitch in their march. Not to say that there weren’t any fish around, it’s just that so far, I wouldn’t call it a season to remember just yet! 

Enough of the Buster Bummer stuff; there was some semblance of a cobia run. There were very few boat limits caught, but in my estimation there were some catches worth a raised eyebrow. Most of the fish have been smallish, but definitely more keepers than not. A majority of the fish caught were plucked off manta rays, but some were nabbed off turtles and a few were found free swimming.

With a bit of luck, the run will trickle into April. The key will be the water temperature remaining below the 70-degree mark and the manta rays remain dwellers of the surface. If you get out on the cobia hunt, look for temperature changes and/or color changes and weedlines that could attract the rays or free-swimming cobes. Jigs tipped with squid are the preferred bait of most, but keep some live baits like pinfish handy for this finicky fish that snubs the artificial stuff. Also, you may want to have some live shrimp handy for the tripletail hanging around the weed or flotsam.

As far as the trolling goes, last month greeted us with a few dolphin and sails. Typically, I would expect to see the mahi heat up this coming month. With the right weather and water conditions, we could see some good numbers of them through the month of April all the way into late May. Stick with the usual spread of ballyhoo and ballyhoo/lure combos and expect to catch a mixed bag of mahi, sails, and occasional wahoo.

If the water cleans up and warms up a bit this month, I expect the kingfish to start being a little more consistent. If the water stays chilly, they will remain in those tight little schools likely remaining close to the bottom. When it warms up, they should spread out a bit and be easier to find. Finding the live pogies may be a task, bit there have been plenty of threadfins on the way to the reef. You can mark them on the bottom machine and there will likely be gannets diving in the area. When you find them, it should be relatively easy to sabiki enough for the day.

As far as bottom fishing goes, you’re on your own. I’ll talk about that next month when grouper season opens on May 1!

So, get out there and get some late cobia or early mahi, your pick…

See ya on the pond!