Merry Christmas! A Special Gift From Me To You.

It’s kind of hard to describe my life for the last few months, so I’m not going to. I despise things that are hard to do. Even kind of hard things, which are essentially half easy. And if I choose to look at it that way, I still don’t want to do it. (Sometimes I try Jedi mind tricks on myself, too. I think I’m immune. But I can move spaceships with my mind. Bring me one and I’ll show you. Preferably an X-wing fighter. Otherwise no guarantees.)

So what are you doing for Christmas? I’ll be having the flu. Just kicked it off today. I’m very, very excited. I’m hoping it will be as good as the one I had at Thanksgiving, which I only made it through because no one would honor my request to hit me with a hammer. If someone had, I wouldn’t be getting sick again OR having to Christmas shop. That’s some BS right there. Whatever.

I really don’t get it. I do all the right things. I eat, sleep, don’t drink water (or “bacteria accelerant” as I like to call it) and attack any foreign viral agents with a steady stream of nicotine and carbon monoxide. What can live through that? Certainly not me. I’m the most inhospitable host ever. I’d hate to be inside me. Just ask my kidneys. They’ll tell you.

All I’m saying is that I apply the science. Exercise is just mileage, people. I’ve only got so many items left in my life I can pick up. I refuse to waste those lifts on things I don’t need to carry somewhere.

Think about it. You and I might be in the woods and you break your leg. What if I can’t carry you home because I threw away all my lifts in the gym? I’m doing this for you. With that, Merry Christmas. (Boom. I just got something for everyone. Christmas shopping done.)

As a banner year at The Dip comes to a close, the promise of a great 2018 comes with it. Of course, the always epic New Year’s Eve party is almost here and followed by the always memorable bubble spa party. The fun never stops at Serendipity Park.

Click here for the Calendar if Events

I truly hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas and the best 2018 ever!

 

 

 

 

Happy Birthday, Mom! (But They Don’t Want You To Be Happy.)

Some kids make macaroni art. I make sentences. Happy Birthday, Mom!

That’s right. And what did she get? Well, she got that sentence above AND her power came back on yesterday! Nothing says I love you like A/C in Florida.

Serendipity was also hit by crushing winds and power outages, but as usual, the crew, residents and guests came together to make the best of it. That’s just the Serendipity way. I’d rather be there without power than most places with power.

For example, yesterday I was at the Department of Driver Services. Full of power. Lights everywhere. Sucked.

I got there 15 minutes before it opened, and fortunately, only one other person was there. And by the time it opened, 20 people were lined up behind me. I kind of felt sorry for them. (Because I kept mocking them for being late. “Early bird gets the worm!HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!”  The guy in front of me was much more gracious, so I didn’t have to hear his b.s. I can’t stand a gloater.)

But alas, the excruciating 18 minutes I had to stand at the desk is over and I can go back to… to… Whatever I feel like doing when I feel like doing it, which isn’t a lot, but enough to keep me from doing things I don’t want to do. Life can be pretty exhausting.

For those who view me as irresponsible, lazy and undisciplined, I say to you, “You are very observant. Please make me a sandwich.” The ball is in your court.

Just kidding. You don’t have to make me a sandwich. Not yet, anyway. You don’t even know what I like.

Pretty much anything with roast beef, but not the pre-packaged kind. I like it cut off that big, glorious chunk of cow behind the glass.

It should also have tomatoes, but thinly sliced with love.

Onions are tricky. Too many and they overpower the sandwich. Too little and it’s missing something (more onions).

Lettuce? I’ll leave that up to you. It adds some color and texture, though I’m not convinced we’re meant to eat it. Scientists are wrong all the time and that’s one of my many bones to pick with them. (Mmmmm…. Bones.)

Lastly, condiments. This is very important. Oil and vinegar, a little salt, and of course, a healthy dose of mayo. I’d say about twice what the normal person eats.

Now that you know how to do it, you have no excuse not to. I’ll wait here.

(Elevator music…)

I see you’re going to be difficult about this. Whatever. I’ll make my own, but it won’t be the spectacular sandwich I’ve just described. That’s on you. I’d think you’d be a little more agreeable on my mom’s birthday. Few things make that woman happier than seeing me eat delicious, free food.

Despite your disobedience, I’m going to do you a solid. First, there’s still some time left for the lizard in you to bake in the sun. However, if you are more like me and don’t have an internal lizard that enjoys being cooked, now is your time of year.

Once the leaves start changing and the air turns chilly, in my opinion, there is no better time to be at Serendipity. It’s simply breathtaking, and there are plenty of ways to stay warm (fire pit, hot tub, sauna, roast beef… Pick your pleasure).

While for many the summer months are ideal, there’s something magical about enjoying a crisp, cool night fireside under the clearest sky you can imagine. Those are the kinds of moments you remember for a lifetime (like many you’ll experience there).

So now that you owe me for that whole sandwich debacle, the least you can do is go experience this. If not for me, for mom.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Total Eclipse (Of The Heart)

Several months back I agreed to something stupid that takes an enormous amount of my time. And I don’t even like it. Which means I spend a lot of my day doing things I don’t like to do.

Wahhhhh. Not looking for violins here. Too many of us are in this boat. More trying to explain why I’ve not been around as nearly as often as I’d hoped these past few months, because I know I’ve missed some of the best times ever (and people).

There was a time when I was a fixture at Serendipity. (A fixture that ate your food.) I had a real plan to live there forever, but stores and places like that still expect money in return for things. Whatever. I’ll figure it out.

The time I was able to get off this year was spent in Florida on some family business. If you’re planning a visit, you might want to bring some food. I’m pretty sure I ate most of what was there.

Did you catch Shark Week? That’s me in Florida. I just rush from cool spot to cool spot in search of anything I can put in my mouth that resembles food. I accidentally bit 3 surfers after mistaking them for seals. (The second and third really weren’t an accident. I had developed a taste for surfer.)

By the way, I do find it ironic that Shark Week seems to have the intention of educating me on why I shouldn’t be scared of sharks while terrifying me of them. They’ll explain how sharks are misunderstood. I think it’s because no one has sat down to talk to them. (Probably because they’ll eat your face.)

You see, I don’t think I misunderstand. I feel like sharks are thinking, “Food, food, food, food, food, is that food? Bite it.” That’s all I need to know. Thank you. All yours, sharks. I’ll go ahead and swim where you’re not.

And know where they’re not? That’s right! The pool at The Dip. Where this weekend they’ll be warming up for the total eclipse of the sun (and my heart because I won’t be there).

If you haven’t taken off Monday, do it! Tell your boss I said it was okay, and if he/she has any issues with that, tell them I’ll quit. Trust me. They don’t want a lose a man like me. You’ll be fine.

And from what I understand, the park is in the totality zone. Just think how many people will be looking at it, but how few will be looking at it while naked. Most couldn’t do that if they wanted to. (Take that, people in other public places that don’t allow nude eclipse viewing.)

Consider it a practice trip for the upcoming Labor Day weekend bash that’s guaranteed to rock your world. And when I say “guarantee,” I mean not in writing. (Except for that part where I wrote it, but I am insane and that will hold up on court. Not to mention how hard it would be to prove your world was not rocked. I’m just saying any guarantees expressed or implied are not that.)

 

 

Memorial Day Weekend Super-Celebration And Season Kick-off!

You read it right. It’s kick-off time! And not a minute too soon. As a matter of fact, the park has already been bustling with activity. People couldn’t wait for the kick-off. And can you blame them? No. You can’t. No one likes a blamer, anyway.

It officially starts today and if you haven’t yet made your plan to visit Serendipity Park this weekend, you should go ahead and do that now. I promise you won’t regret it. It’s not only the best nudist park in Georgia, it’s the best one in the world. (At least in my opinion.)

The crew at “The Dip” really goes big for this event, so what you can expect is non-stop fun from morning until… ??? If you’re one of those that likes to stay up until the sun joins you, I’m sure you won’t be alone. And if you’re one of those that just wants to soak up the sun, play games and enjoy the company of those that helped gain Serendipity it’s 7th Friendliest Park award, you can just do that. Or you can do all of it.

Oh yeah! Food! Tons of food. You can bring your own, but I’m not going to. Nothing I can make is nearly as good as the food that’s on tap for this weekend. That said, I only know how to make Pop Tarts, but those are excellent. So if I say the food is going to be better than a Pop Tart, then that’s extremely high praise.

And music! Yeah! That, too.

Many reading this have been visiting the park for years, but I know we have some that haven’t yet “dipped” their toe in the pool, so to speak. If that’s you, what are you waiting for? An invitation? Done. I just invited you. Now you have no excuse.

For more information on events, directions or just to review the awesomeness of what is Serendipity Park, take a look at the new (and very nicely done) Serendipity Park website. Happy Memorial Day, everyone!

 

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom!

It takes a special kind of woman that doesn’t hold it against you when you throw up on her. You throw up on me and we’re done. I’ll never get within three feet of you again. Get any closer than that you’ll see me move into the crane kick posture. And remember, if done correctly, is no defense.

Of course I’m talking about my mother, and probably your mother, and all the mothers that have found themselves bathed in vomit and don’t hate you for it. I mean, I’m sure they didn’t think it was cute or, “Awww baby! You are the gift that keeps on giving.”

And think about all the other things they put up with.

Mom: Why did you put all my make up in the toilet?

Me: I don’t know.

And I didn’t know. Seemed like a good idea at the time. Maybe it was my way of expressing how she should let her natural beauty shine.

This was just one of many stupid things I did when I was a kid, for no other reason than… I don’t know. Maybe it was my wild fascination with wondering what things looked like if they were broken. The ultimate conclusion from my research is they looked different and stopped working. Some call it destructive. I call it learning.

For example, I learned very early the exact tool and force required to put holes in wall paneling. In case you are wondering, a hammer works the best. These are the things they don’t teach you in school.

As I recall these precious moments, I’m wondering how I lived through them. I’m pretty sure if I was my mom I would have chained me to something that moved faster than I could run. And that’s why I’m saying it takes a special kind of woman to be a mom.

So, Mom, thank you for not having me dragged away by a horse or car or the first thing you saw that had the towing capacity. That took a lot of patience. I love you. (Cue mom tearing up. Now laughing because I totally caught her.)

For the other moms out there (many of which are sitting naked in the sun right now at one of the most beautiful places in Georgia and are already having the best Mother’s Day ever and probably aren’t getting thrown up on, but I can’t guarantee that because some are with their children and kids will spontaneously throw up which is exactly why I don’t trust them), Happy Mother’s Day!

 

Meteorologists Beware

Looks like we’ve got some new followers, so first, thank you. Second, what is wrong with you people? You can’t be all there. I don’t mean to be insulting, but I’m good at it and I like to play to my strengths. Don’t feel bad, though. I’m not all there. (That’s my way of apologizing. As you can see, I’m not very good at that.)

Enough about me and enough about you. Let’s talk about Serendipity Park, because after all, that’s what this blog is supposed to be about. And most of the time it is, but one of my favorite subjects is me and it’s often difficult to focus on anything else. Some even say I’m self-centered. Then I call them names, because while I’m good at insulting, I’m horrible at being insulted.

There’s a saying that goes, “If you can’t take it, don’t dish it out.” I think that’s how it goes. I don’t know. I really don’t pay attention to sayings that disagree with my philosophies. That’s why I make up my own sayings. For example:

“Chocolate is fantastic. I should eat a lot of that.”

“Stop staring at me.”

“Hey, give me five dollars.”

Those are just a few of my favorites. I’m working on some new ones. I’ll keep you posted.

The park is looking fantastic. I mean, it usually does, but tons of improvements are now being made and in my… Six years? Wow. Six. Anyway, better than ever.

If you’ve seen it before then you know exactly what I’m talking about. If you haven’t, then you have no idea. You’re just going to have to trust me. Hey, give me five dollars.

And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the weather is getting absolutely perfect. I think the last cold snap was it. I’m no meteorologist, but I did watch some once. I wasn’t very impressed. Apparently, there’s a whole channel with them. And they love hurricanes. They go where the hurricanes are. All so I can see what high winds and flying objects do to people in raincoats. And street signs. I even get to see water on the road. Where cars are supposed to be! It’s exactly as I pictured it. Must see TV.

And that’s why it’s highly unlikely to meet a meteorologist at Serendipity. No hurricanes. Boom. Take that, Florida. Sure, you’ve got some beaches. I’ll give you that. But you also have sharks, alligators, hurricanes and the sun lives in Orlando. It’s like that old saying goes, “Chocolate is fantastic. I should eat a lot of that.”

So here we go. Naked season is upon us! And not a moment too soon. As I said, the park looks fantastic. There’s not a more relaxing place in the world. And the new website also looks great! You can see that here along with the event calendar, which is robust. (Love that word. Don’t know why. It makes me think of coffee. That’s probably it. Stop staring at me.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Planes, Trains And Automobiles: Part 2 (I Did It! I Wrote A Part 2!)

It’s difficult to complain after you’ve spent a few days looking at this view, but I’ve never been one to let difficulty get in my way. Wait. I take that back. I do let it get it in my way. A lot, actually. I guess complaining is where I make an exception.

Anywho, I’ve just spent about 60 hours on planes, trains and automobiles. My neck is killing me. I feel like Spock has been trying to subdue me for 5 days.

The other day I had a moment where it didn’t hurt and thought it was getting better. I assumed I could resume my normal head-swiveling activities, but noooo. I made the mistake of looking to the left. I don’t know what I was thinking. At some point I’ll have to accept I’m not in my twenties anymore and can’t go turning my head without stretching first.

I do all the right things, too. I eat, drink liquid, use my arms/legs and breathe oxygen when I’m not smoking (still breathing oxygen between puffs). I even sleep. That’s very important. Ask any doctor. I don’t get it.

So let me tell you about Maine. It is very beautiful. There are many friendly people there. And there are many unfriendly people there. Let me give you an example:

I was backing out of a parking spot when I noticed a kindly elderly woman with a suitcase about to walk behind my car. Rather than run over her, I stopped and waved her by.

A few seconds later she was tapping on my window. I lowered it and rather than mace her, I said, “Hi.”

She said, “I thought you might be from Georgia when you let me pass. I saw your tag. I’m also from there. Anyway, just thought I’d say ‘thanks’!”

There you have it. An appreciative word from a visiting elderly woman for not running her over. It was the nicest thing anyone said to me the whole time I was there.

I also had to learn the various pronunciations of the towns so I wasn’t identified as someone not from Maine. And a lot of those pronunciations are seemingly different from the letters they’ve laid out before you. It’s a trap.

Again, I would like to say there are many friendly people there. I don’t want to give the impression that everyone who lives there is a jerk. Especially if you’re from there. You’re one of the good ones. I can feel it.

Fortunately for me, I have a beautiful place to go where the people are friendly. So friendly, in fact, they’ve now been awarded AANR’s Koch Award (for outstanding friendliness) 7 times, including 2016. I’ve not met one person there who would run someone over on purpose. I’m talking about, of course, Serendipity Park.

If you’re looking for something to do this Labor Day weekend, you just found it. The blowout of the summer is happening and you won’t want to miss it.

(Happy Birthday, Stuart!)

 

 

 

 

Planes, Trains And Automobiles Are Stupid And I’m Done With Them: Part 1 (Probably. Maybe Last Part. I Don’t Know.)

It’s been far too long since I’ve posted, but I’ve been on the road for what seems like 17 years. I’m not a big traveler. I would say I’m more a mid-sized traveler.

Actual conversation while waiting to get off plane:

Me: I hate people that don’t know how a line works.

Guy in front of me: Oh man I’m sorry! Go ahead!

Me: Oh no I wasn’t talking to you!

Which is true. I was talking about him. To everyone. He just heard me. Oops.

And then there was the ticket agent who was telling me I wouldn’t get the seat I requested because I didn’t check in online 24 hours before. You should have heard some of the things I said about her to other people while she was in earshot. I was telling everyone about all the jerks while the jerks were listening. This way when I’m confronted by one of them I can say, “I wasn’t talking to you.” And it’s true.

I developed this system as a kid while trying to avoid getting punched in the face again. They say it’s called passive-aggressive. I call it deeeelicious. I can have my cake and eat it too. Watch this. Shut up! (Not you.)

The other thing nobody realizes at that damn airport is that I’m not where I want to be. And you’d think everyone would be a little more sensitive to that fact, but noooooooooooo. They have places they’d rather be. Then it becomes this battle of wills, as many refuse to recognize my plans are more important than theirs. It’s very frustrating.

I have to go again in a few days, which means more lines, more removing shoes in less than ideal situations, more uncomfortable seating and more socially awkward moments I’ll undoubtedly manufacture. I also have this thing where I can’t hide my feelings. They’ll just pop out of my face in clouds of sarcasm.

It happened a lot more during my childhood. I learned early on that people will hit you, perhaps in a momentary lapse of confusion when suddenly enveloped by a mockery cloud. An instinctive reaction, like swatting at a bee or something. They can’t help it. They just start swinging wildly. This is why I always carry a tennis racket in my pocket. Remember that.

When I’m not in a plane or in a car, I’m working. Or playing a video game, but that’s late at night when time doesn’t matter. I might be a mid-size traveler, but I am definitely a large child. And the adult and child in me fight all the time.

For example, I go to bed early last night so I can get a good night’s sleep, wake up early and do the long list of things I haven’t done and need to do before I go. (Adult win!)

I get up at 6:30. My plan is working perfectly. (Adult still in charge.)

By 6:40, I’ve got my coffee. I sit down, start flipping to find something on tv other than the vacuum cleaner infomercial I’d been listening to and dreaming about for the previous 2 hours, then what do I find? Rocky marathon.

Can you believe the luck? What am I going to do now? I can’t get a break. They’re showing at least 1-5. I don’t know if they’ll play 6, but I really have to get moving at some point and it depresses me, anyway. Spoiler alert: Rocky owns a restaurant and gets beat up again, loses, but not as bad as you’d expect. Seriously? That’s what I waited 30 years for? I’m just going to pretend we stopped at 5 when he beat up Tommy Gunn in a Philly street before punching a shady promoter. (Can’t wait! Woo hoo!) (Damn. Here we go again.)

You see my dilemma, though this internal struggle is mine alone. The adult in me is larger, yet the child is super scrappy and in better shape. It’s going to be a long day. You can’t help me with this. Just wish me luck.

As far as you, the clock is ticking to go have one of the most enjoyable times you’ll ever have. Labor Day is now only a couple weeks away and there’s still time for a visit or two before the huge blowout at The Dip. It’s not too late, and more than likely, you don’t have to get on a plane to do it. Which is awesome, because I really don’t need more people at the airport right now.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Futbol. Sorry.

So I’m staying at some friends’ house and we’ve been watching the voting results of the referendum for the UK to leave the European Union. Now to be clear, this is not what I would normally be doing. What I watch looks nothing like this.

I’m seeing a lot of talking, words scrolling across the screen like, “Clackmananshire votes to leave,” bar graphs with colorful… bars, people with weird hair… I don’t know what the hell is going on.

What I do know is the votes are in and the UK is out. I also understand there are a lot of worldwide implications to this. I could explain them to you, but I couldn’t explain them to you. And people have already tried to explain it to me, however, I do this thing where I tune out everything but pure entertainment. I’ll give you an example:

Friend:  I wonder how France is going to respond to this.

Me: Are they in the Europe?

Friend: Uhhh… yeah.

Me:  Oui, oui. Go France. How do you think they’ll respond?

Friend: Well I’m saying a bunch of things right now you’re obviously not interested in and won’t remember, so when you recall this conversation, you’ll forget what I said and have to make something up.

Me:  Hmmmm… that is an interesting take. Doesn’t the EU have a soccer tournament coming up?

Friend: Seriously?

Me: Sorry. Futbol. I can’t stop calling it soccer. My bad.

Friend: No. It has nothing to do with that. It’s basically snoooooooze, bla bla bla, words coming out of my mouth you’re not listening to, etc. What’s of most concern is that the British pound has dropped sharply.

Me: Wait… was the vote to change gravity there?

Friend: No, their pound is like our dollar. It’s currency.

Me: Oh. Glad I don’t live there. I don’t think I could carry more than twenty of those. Shopping must be a bitch in the UK. Are you sure this has nothing to do with soccer? I feel like it does. Europists love soccer. Crap. Futbol. Sorry. Want to play a video game? Loser has to carry all our pounds if we ever go to England.

_______________________________________________________________

I find instilling hopelessness in my presumptive teachers helps me keep information I don’t want out of my head. I knew France was in Europe (pretty sure, anyway). I knew pounds were British money. Still think they’re too heavy but whatever. That’s probably why they’re worth more than a dollar.

One of the reasons I don’t pay any attention to world news or national news or local news or anything with “news” attached is because it’s nothing like playing a game or watching Seinfeld. In no way is news like Frisbee. I’ve compared them and Frisbee is way better. The news would never say, “Frisbee is better than we are.” Even though it’s true and they know it. I no longer trust them.

Naked water volleyball? Better than news. Relaxing in a hot tub vs. news? Hot tub, thank you. Reading a book in the sun, then hopping in the pool for a skinny dip? Kicks. News. Ass. Hiking down a scenic path to a beautiful creek and having a picnic? I think you get the point.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Feels Like

The other day, the “feels like” was 111. The temperature was only a brisk 97, but when I heard the feels like was 111, I took my sweater off before I left the house.

If you haven’t already guessed, I’m still in Florida. It’s like being wrapped in a wet towel and thrown in a pizza oven. My face got sunburned walking 100 feet from my car to the door. And I’m no dainty-skinned pasty. (I’m sorry if that offended the fairer-skinned. I have a lot of Native American blood, which technically means I was here first. You are a visitor in my land and this is how we do things here. Suck it up.)

Anywho, 111. That’s two degrees more than 109 (for our math friends). I want to go outside and do things like breathe and walk to my car. I want to be able to have the strength to open doors from the outside, take the trash out, look at things outside. I just want to know I can swing open my front door and say, “I’m probably not going to die in my front yard today.”

I’ve even installed another a/c. You know why? I just told you. The first rule of blog club is there is no blog club. And in this case, it happens to be true. Plus it’s rude not to pay attention to your host. You’re my guest in this country. Remember that.

The other half of my lineage is not from here, which technically means I am my own host and my own guest. This is why I always treat myself with respect and shower myself in cookies and gifts.

By the way, weather people, stop telling me the temperature. Give me the relevant one. I don’t need you to boggle my mind with two numbers, 14 degrees apart or something. 3 numbers! Just tell me the “feels like” and I’ll figure out what to wear. Deal? Don’t make me deport you. Oh and dew point! 4 numbers! That’s it. You’re gone.

I could also wear nothing, but I’m pretty sure I’d get sunburn on my bones or attract alligators when I’m cooking myself. I bet baking people smells good to things that eat people.

That’s another thing. I just saw a news story about an alligator that had a man in its mouth. Then they couldn’t find it. I don’t know if you know this, but being in an alligator’s mouth is one of the worst places you can be.

Sadly, I can throw a rock and hit ten of them from my porch. I see them all the time. And now they’re breaking the deal. I am out of here, suckers. I warn you, I know some mixed martial arts and I doubt you train in that stuff at all. If done correctly, it’s indefensible. (I don’t know it, but shhhhhhh, alligators can’t see between parentheses. I read it in a book I wrote about alligators.)

You know where there are no alligators? Serendipity Park. It also doesn’t feel like a tanning bed in a convection oven built from an armpit. The nice thing about the mountains in Georgia is they’re not anywhere near Florida. While the “temperature” is sometimes the same, the “feels like” is not “cooking lasagna.” As soon as I can carry stuff to my car without collapsing I’m on my way.

From what I understand, the Memorial Day weekend at The Dip was a good time had by all, and that’s just the beginning. I urge you not to wait. One of the biggest regrets I’ve seen from new people coming to the park is always when they come late in the season, wishing they had visited at its beginning. The next year, you’ll start seeing those people in April. Every time.