In Search of John Travolta and Alabama boys don't play corn hole

Some of you may know that John Travolta has a home in this area of Florida.  It's the "house" that you can find on the Internet where he can pull his jet right up to the front door. Jack found his registered airport, "Greystone" on the GPS which led us right to the spot.  HOWEVER, since the runway is over a mile and 1/2 long, of course, we couldn't see anything.  Now most of you would think, as I did, that his home would be easy to spot.  Remember last year when I told you about people in parts of Florida who gated their homes; mobile home; shanty; and or outdoor outhouse?  Well, that practice hasn't changed any in this part of Florida.  Seems every place we went by had mammoth, ornate double gates.  The type of gates that in Indiana would announce the Governor's home or a very wealthy drug dealer.  So, to be honest we could not tell exactly where he lived and for that matter we really didn't care. It was just a self imposed challenge to find it.  We did pass one area that had security guards at the road and the gate so I'm guessing that was it. Thank goodness he does have those jets; otherwise he and anyone else living out there would go insane in a short amount of time. 

Things I learned yesterday:
1. Riding the motorcycle with Jack was kind of fun.  I wasn't afraid at all really.
2. Florida, in February, is a brown mass of nothingness.  Unless you water your lawn constantly you have sand, mossy, dried up grass.
3. When you are young you think of Florida as white sandy beaches, bikinis and more fun than you can have at home.  You don't think of the dry brown inland of Florida.
4.  Number 3 is most likely true if you are 18 thru 30 and staying in a condo on the beach.
5.  It is warmer here and there is no snow.
6.  When you are 55 or older everyone around you is 55 or older.  You begin to think that aliens have sucked the youth of America in to pods.
7.  Sand burrs hurt like hell.
8.  Those damn Noseeums will find you no matter where you go in the South.
9.  This part of Florida is a huge, huge horse farm area.
10.Lastly, my butt can take no more than 3 hours on a motorcycle seat. EVER. When we got back to the RV I was so sure I could not get off of the motorcycle I was about to ask Jack just to cover me up for the night. But I sucked it up and managed to get off the bike with some dignity.

Here are some pictures of our ride:

Corn Hole....Bean Toss......Bag Toss.......

Whatever you want to call it I found out today that Southern men DO NOT and WILL NEVER call the game Corn Hole.  We have new neighbors; well, actually they've been here for about a week.  We fell in love with their little dog, Jasper, on the first day.  He would stand at the window and look out at us when we would come and go.  Wouldn't bark; just wanted a friendly "hello" and we'd get a happy face from him. His mom and dad are very sweet and kind people as well and we have spent several wonderful hours getting to know them.  Because Jasper's dad was a very high profile police officer in Alabama I promised him I wouldn't use their real names.  And not because he has anything to hide.  He simply does not want the "boys back home" to know that he played corn hole today.  He was quite good and went several rounds before, as he puts it, "through the game." He in no way wanted his name associated with being the King of the Corn Hole Competition in Florida.  I kept teasing him that I was going to take his picture and plaster it on this blog for all to see.  I did....he's the one with the ball cap over his face.

The other pics were taken today at the Corn Hole, I mean, bean bag tournament. Free soda, beer, wine and pizza for everyone.  Sunday they are having a dance in the street and a free cook out.  Not sure we'll participate in that one since we are leaving bright and early Monday morning for Key West.

Jack is sitting in the chair second from the left.

One last thing.  Last year a friend of ours here at the park, Deb, was in charge of the park's slide show.  She took and showed a beautiful slide show of numerous pictures of the residents and the many activities that we do here in the park. It was really an amazing job and was even set to music. Some of the pictures, of course, was of the Corn Hole tournament from last year.  I hope that I can do this story the justice it deserves.  There is another couple who winter here and have a huge motor home.  The man's name is Steve and I cannot talk to him without LMAO.  He is the most impromptu wittiest person (besides Jack) I have ever met.  He has a zing for any situation.  He's the kind of person that displays a sign in the front window of their motor coach that says, "trailer trash."  I think at times he probably mortifies his wife but he really is a hoot.  Ok.  Anyway back to this slide show Deb put on.  Steve asked her to put a title to the Corn Hole tournament.  She did.  She is 51 years old and didn't think a thing about the title Steve suggested.  So, here are all of the residents sitting in the rec hall enjoying the lovely slide show.  The Corn Hole pictures come on to the screen. The title splashes across the screen...............DELIVERANCE!  Steve hooted; everyone else was speechless (so we were told) and Deb is stunned, looking at the residents, saying, "What? What's wrong?"  She is too young to remember the show and the reference to corn hole.