First Posted 14 August 2007

Yes...It’s A Survey...Get Over It! (reposted from the Cafe)

Current mood:contemplative

1 What's your favorite movie???

When I first saw "Star Wars IV: A New Hope" (although at the time, it was simply "Star Wars"), I was blown away. There was nothing, simply nothing, like it. Starting from the very beginning, the 20th Century Fox movie logo and music, I had never heard the entire thing before, and I knew that something was different about this movie, right from the start. It had everything, action, adventure, a love story, 'droids, space battles, DARTH VADER! I was one of thosegeeks that saw it over a hundred times in the theatre and still, STILL watch it several times a year. It was a seminal moment in movie history, something that's hard to explain to people who weren't there at the time, that nothing like this existed until that movie came out, that it changed everything about the movie experience. It was something that you didn't expect, had no reason to expect to see, and it blew my mind.

2 What's your favorite color???

Green, it's lush, inviting, and the colour of money (and the Cafe!).

3 What's your favorite ice cream flavor???

Vanilla Bean, if I am in a minimalist mood. It's classic, tasty and just right.

Butter Pecan if I am feeling a bit tasty but, only from Kohr Brothers on the boardwalk. They make it right there and it's to die for.

Ben & Jerry's Two Twisted when I am feeling decadent. It's chocolate with brownies and vanilla with cookie dough. Yummy!

4 Where do you want to go on vacation??

Anywhere, anywhere, but Atlantic City! I am so over this island right now, I want to sink it like Atlantis. Hopefully, I can get my sainted Mother to accept my request and come visit her either at her home in the Philadelphia suburbs or up in the Pocono mountains.

5 What's your favorite animal???

House cats. They have it made. Actually, I do like the big cats, they fascinate me to no end when I go to the zoo. I love their raw power, their wild lethalness. Their roar that makes me quake in my boots! I think they are so beautiful and so deadly, often a very desirable combination in any species.

6 What's your favorite T.V. show???

Depends. For comedy, I can't get enough of Absolutely Fabulous. It's decadent, dry, ribald, over-the-top, physical humour, witty, evil and insane. It's my life, actually.

I still like STAR TREK in all it's forms on the Spike Channel.

7 What's your fav. drink???

Ketel One vodka dirty martini, up, with three olives.

8 What's your favorite flower???

Daisies. I want them growing all over my grave when I am dead. No, not because I want to literally be "pushing up daisies", I just love them and I want people to see something so simple and beautiful when they come visit my little eternal corner of this earth.

9 What's your favorite pet???

Housecat. They are like living furniture. Walking meatloaf. Easy to care for and easy to love. When they want love, that is. Although, I would love, Love, LOVE an English bulldog if they would only contact me and tell me one is available so I could love it, give it a great home, and spoil the living hell out of it!

10 What's your favorite book???

I have several for different reasons:

"The Hobbit" and "The Lord of the Rings" J. R. R. Tolkien I read these when I was around twelve or thirteen and they were life altering. I have read the entire series every year since and I still find things in there that surprise me.

"Dune" by Frank Herbert One of the most interesting, provocative series of books I have ever read. It's science fiction, concerning the far, far future of humanity but, it's so inventive, so detailed, lush and historical, much like the LOTR series. The characters are so realistic, so intertwined. I love this series.

"Interview With The Vampire" by Anne Rice My mother gave me this book and told me to read it. It is still one of my all time most favourite books I have ever read. I cry every time I read it. Those who have read it know why. The character of Claudia still haunts me. And when Louis is made a vampire, I don't care what sexuality you are, it's the hottest written porn I have ever read. I dare you to read it and not need a cigarette afterwards! Never has a death scene (and that's what it truly is) been so damn erotic!

"Where the Wild Things Are" by Maurice Sendak Ask my mother about this book and how the librarian at Bellmawr Park Elementary School would have to ask her to get me to return it all the time. This is my all-time most favourite book, ever. They are making a movie out if it. I think that's heresy.

I want to say again that I thank my mother for my love of reading. I shall never forget sitting outside of Thrift Drug at the Audubon shopping centre (an outdoor mall that had Korvettes as it's anchor store), waiting for my mom to do whatever she was doing in there. Probably getting medicine for me, if I was with her. She came out and handed me a little plastic rectangle with a tassle on the end and a little bookworm image inside the laminate. I asked her what it was. She said, "It's a bookmarker. I want you to find a use for it."

I have.

Thank you, Mom, it was one of the best gifts anyone could ever give! That little piece of plastic from a now-defunct drug store opened so many worlds for me. It's treasure is beyond any measuring. Thank you, again

First Posted 10 August 2007

Summer Storm

Current mood:contemplative

THUNDERCLAP!

I sat, bolt upright in my bed, primal instinct taking over, wide awake, looking out my window, sensing danger.

A brilliant flash of lightening right outside my window, right in front of me!

THUNDERCLAP!

Immediate, deafening. I cannot describe the sound. It's as if the harpies in hell let out a scream.

I leap from my bed and run out into the hallway, thinking that that was far too close. Flash again, and the thunderous sound shatters through the still summer air shaking the building. Zeus himself, king of the gods of Olympus, is on the roof of my penthouse,throwing his bolts of lightening down around us. My flatmate, Jerry, comes out his room and we make our way to the livingroom to see the coming storm. Another flash, right out on the beach, another deafening thunderbolt screams through my ears. There's no need to count between the flash and the sound, the storm is right over us, we are the storm. There is no time increment small enough between the speed of light and sound at this moment. They are one and the same.

But there's no rain. No clouds. No darkened skies. Another flash, and another, and another and three window shaking thunderous roars blast around us. I admit to feeling fear. This was scary. Intense. Like I said, primal. The instinct of our human ancestors, deep in pre-history, who ran and hid, shaking at the wondrous and deadly forces of nature around them are right at the surface. I am shaking at the wondrous and deadly force of nature, all around me. It's scaring the piss out of me. Then the rain comes. Drips, drabs, slowly dotting the pavement below. Then the wind, first breezy and then gusting, and then, a locomotive, increasing with the rain's intensity. The heavens open up over us and the rain is coming down, in all the cliches: buckets, sheets, cats and dogs. It's a torrent of water falling from the sky, nearly blotting out the shapes of the buildings around us. Then, the gods begin to send more from their lofty throne of clouds. Hail begins to ping, crash, slam, ping, dent, ping all around us. It's as if it's a cosmic game of marbles, gone terribly wrong. The beach bums are running, everywhere, anywhere, to find shelter from this new and painful stinging bounty from the sky. I watch through the bathroom window as the hail stones tear a beach umbrella apart.

FLASH!

THUNDERCLAP!

Zeus will not be denied his power and reminds me of his terrible might as another lightening bolt slams the ground not fifteen feet away from where I stand and thecacophony of sound once again shakes my soul. The smell of electricity and ozone permeates the air and I back away from the windowsill. It's metal. I am taking no chances.

Then more flashes, more thunder but now, there is a delay between them. The storm is losing it's power. Zeus has taken flight and is moving eastward, throwing his powerful bolts at other helpless mortals, the winds die down. The streets are now swirling rivers, swollen with the deluge of water that fell from the sky in a matter of minutes, the hailstones are melting. Apollo once again commands his chariot of the sun breaking through the clouds. Intense and bright.

And then it was over.

I retreat back to my bed. Shaking at the wondrous and deadly forces of nature, knowing how small and insignificant we are when Mother Earth unleashes her gods upon us.

First Posted 23 September 2004

Why I live here

I did get out of the house, originally to get a newspaper or ten since our pictures were in it but, I ended up stopping by my florist, The Art Of Flowers, and saying hullo to my good friend Becky. She does all the arrangements for our benefits and helps out at the Red Ribbon Bingo as the raffle ticket seller (Among other volunteering, she was awarded a Congressional citation for her work). She gave me a beautiful single stem yellow rose, the colour of friendship. How nice. I wandered down to my hair stylist at the House Of Hair but Margarita (who donated my latest hair style as part of the cause) was under the weather, so I left the rose for her to cheer her up when she comes in to the salon to-day. I moseyed on down to the boardwalk, it was rather warm in the sun and I now have a bit of a farmer's tan going on because of my midday constitutional, I wandered by my old restaurant (who donated dinner for two and an ad in our program book) and ignored everyone there, I just didn't feel they needed to see me, and took the walk through Caesars/Bally's Wild West/Bally's/Claridge/Sands (all owned by the same company and put an ad in our program book) because the sun was getting on my vampire nerves and the casinos are oh so air conditioned. Exiting the Sands (funny how no one noticed my hair among the blue and pink rinse set in the casinos) I made my way to the offices at the club to pick up my paycheck. Ellen Eccles (her husband was honored, posthumously for his help in our cause), the secretary in the offices, and I laughed about the mistakes in the Atlantic City Press (who put an ad in our program book and covered the event every year) and I picked up my check and cashed it at the Brass Rail, where I chatted with Ed, the asst. manager of the club (who donated his time the night of the pageant). I took the casino throughway back to the boardwalk but once again the sun beat down far to hard on my delicate skin so I ducked into the passageway that goes underneath Convention Hall (Miss America, let me hear you holla!) and took a Jitney bus (the Jitneymen's Association put an ad in our program book this year) home. I chatted on the computer all night with Shannon (who got the bug and will probably become our biggest supporter), a bartender at the club and we gossiped about everything. She's so cute. It is heartwarming to know that I live in a city like this. There are few places that you can live where the sense of community is this strong. Some people have often asked me what it is that keeps me in this city. This is why I live here.

First Posted 22 September 2004

Week-End Folllies

Friday, Miss America Parade night The parade was not as packed as usual due to the threat of rain, but it was still well attended. I was resplendant in a lime green turtleneck mesh dress with a train and my fabulous fuschia hair set it off just so. I also had a rainbow thong, from Macy's no less, underneath it all and I looked so hoochie. The "girls" and I made our entrance from the side lines and got the usual screams and shouts from the onlookers. At one point, we kind of stole the thunder from Miss New Jersey, since she happened to be going by when we made another appearance. Poor thing, she didn't have a chance of winning this year, anyway. The winds from hurricane Ivan were getting to be a bit much so I decided to wander back to the club to get ready for the "rilly big shew". It took a bit for the crowd to get there but when they did, it was insane. We had over seven hundred people there at the final count. Our opening number was "Cell Block Tango" from the movie/play Chicago. We made our entrance from out in the crowd, at different points and sauntered up to the stage before the vocals began. It was a big hit. Instead of the usual prison attire, we had cute little dresses made each in a colour of the gay flag. The rest of the show was just too fun, and I got many, many, many compliments on our performances. I revised my "Positively New Jersey" number, only this time, the New Jersey applique I had on my outfit was in the rainbow flag colours (made with glitter, of course). Thank you, Governor McGreevy. I was so glad that everything went off without a hitch and everyone had a great time. The rains started an hour after we got off stage. Thank you, angels. I think I finally snuck out of there around 3:30am. My voice began to sound like Bea Arthur. Saturday, Miss America crowning night I ended up being late for work. My flatmate woke me up to get my laundry moving along, even though he had off the rest of the night and I was not going to get sleep until Monday. I was a bit pissed. I got my stuff together and started to pack for Sunday's pageant. The Miss America pageant was on and I got a caught up in watching it (of course) so packing became a slow process and by the time I got to work, I was forty minutes late. No one noticed because no one was there, customer wise. When it got down to the top two, I wanted Miss Louisiana to win, just for the leopard print dress she was sporting but, she didn't. Boo! The televisions were on all throughout the club and I got to see the crowning. It was painfully slow the rest of the night, I think the torrential rain showers had something to do with it, and my manager was kind enough to let me go around 8:30a so I could rest in one of the rooms we had set aside for our dressing area. Sunday, Miss'd America Pageant I got four hours of sleep and got my ass out to the deck for rehearsal. The rains had stopped and once again the weather was spectacular. With all the angels in heaven who we do this show in honor of, we have been truly blessed with the weather for the last thirteen years. It took forever for all of the contestants and the other past Miss'd Americas to show up, I could have slept more. Bitches! Rehearsals went well, the props arrived, the jitney bus for our swimsuit number and the clapboard for the in between set breaks, they were too cute. We had our 5:00p dinner break and got ready for the shindig. The opening went well, it's always good when the audience laughs when you expect them to. For those of you who couldn't make it, the event on 5/11 that our Michael Mary Tyler Moore was filming a documentary about was Brittany Spears injuring her leg and having to cancel her tour. It was a tragedy, I know. We still suffer. I did my tear jerker number, "I Can See Clearly Now"-Holly Cole Trio, and lost it so bad, I cried for a half hour after I got off stage. I really can't do that number when it is such an emotional event and I haven't had sleep and have been under stress. Oh well, they are good tears if you shed them for friends. I put on my new Erte' dress and we crowned Andrea LaMour as Miss'd America 2005. I got changed and got rip-roaring drunk. By now, my voice had reached Brenda Vaccaro territory. As an aside, one of my best friends and his girlfriend showed up, way later, and I was not a happy camper with him. Nice to know that on the most important day of the year for me, I can count on him to come and support. Jerk. That goes for anyone else in this town that couldn't behoove themselves to show up, Lance! All in all, the event was a total success and I am so happy that we pulled it off again. Thank you to the past Miss'd Americas, the contestants, the staff of Club Tru/Studio Six, the S.J.A.A. and our judges. And all the people who came and supported our little madcap pageant. And especially Sandy Beach. You are truly an angel on earth. Monday, Coma Monday I slept all day and all night and had no voice what-so-ever.

First Posted 6 May 2004

Revival

I am listening to THE goth anthem, "Bela Lugosi's Dead", right now and am remembering my days as a black clad little poseur standing on South Street. It's so funny to see the little punters and punkettes that still flock to that area, even though there's a (gasps of HORROR!) GAP kids and other chain stores all over the street. They would have been burned down in my day, LOL. The anarchy of the movement is just lost on these kids. Suburban angst ain't what it used to be and the fact that these kids are using a movement's dress sense without the political and social reasoning behind it, is a bit pathetic. Still, it brings me back, seeing them with the mohawks and creepers and bondage pants. It's a shame that they didn't get a chance to go to Revival. That was a place where we could explore all of our differences, enact social change and do it all to a backbeat. The latest bands played downstairs, as well as moi, on Bad Boy Sundays, the drag extravaganza that gave me my formative proving ground that has been the basis for what I do today. Upstairs, in this desanctified former Seamen's Church, was the dance floor, with the famous backwards clock, rapidly spinning time into the past. Every sort of music could be heard here, and all the latest forms of music got a play. The core regular crowd consisted of such a diverse mix of people: punks, goths, mods, rockers, queers, preppies, trendies, new hippies, skinheads (yes them, too), proto-hip-hoppers, you name it. We all got along in this haven of diversity, each open to new ideas and experiences, in a hunger for acceptance and knowledge. The underground stars and a few not so underground stars came there, too. They knew that they could be in a club that appreciated them for what they did creatively, not who they were, famously. I've danced with Prince, Siousxie and the Banshees, Joey Arias, Mink Stole, Dead or Alive and Jade Starling to their music. It was a hedonistic place as well, the back rooms upstairs were always seeping with pot smoke, the bathrooms downstairs were used for the more, how shall I say, powdered libations, the upstairs bathrooms were the meeting place, where you checked your make-up and picked up guys. Or girls. Or whatever. I never felt unsafe. I never felt out of place. It was home for many of us, a living studio of performance art as life and the other way 'round. These kids will never know what it was like to ascend the steps and walk through the greek revival (natch) columns and enter the BEST GODDAM CLUB EVER! It's now a Coyote Ugly. That's just ugly.

First Posted 29 April 2004

All's well that ends not well.

Concerning my date, I did lie a little about the end of the evening. No I didn't go home with him, that's not what you do when you want to snag a partner for awhile, not an evening. Christ, he said he would either pick me up in a green Jaguar or a blue Audi, I ain't puttin' out yet! Patience shall be rewarded (Oh it was the Jaguar, natch). What really happened was, we got a bit lost trying to get to 30th Street Station from Center City, we ended up in University City somehow and by the time we got to the train station, I ran down to the platform and the train was pulling out. He waited a bit to see if I made the train, how gallant, and since I didn't, I checked my bus schedule and found that there was a bus in just 10 minutes, he drove me there. After a quick kiss goodbye, DAMN!, I ran in the bus terminal, through the police and the drug dealers and the homeless and the rude, screaming cabbies, purchased a ticket and queued to board the bus waiting at the gate. And waited. And waited. And waited. I had the inspiriation to check a current schedule, the one I had was from the early '90's, and found that I would be waiting a long time. I passed the time recalling the events of earlier in the day and before you know it, the bus opened up and I boarded and was whisked away to the island paradise known as Atlantic City. I did float home, just on a different cloud than the one I had said in the last entry. With my karma, I can't have everything go perfect. Something has to f*ck up at some point.

First Posted 27 April 2004

My (not so) Dangerous Laision

The day went almost exactly as I thought, I just didn't sleep on the main line. I had the best time. It was a very beautiful day. The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect. The outdoor cafes were open and the outfit I wore was just right, white short sleeve shirt over a white t-shirt and creme pants, brown shoes and a brown suede light jacket. I figured the white/light colour made me look a little more virginal then I am. No snide comments, please. We first went to a great, funky little coffee bar (not Starbucks, God forbid). I had a double espresso since I was up at an hour I am normally asleep, he took his coffee black. We talked about our familys and how we did the whole coming out thing. We then drove through Fairmount park and along boathouse row and parked the car on the Franklin Parkway so we could enter the Philadelphia Museum of Art from the famed front steps. The art museum was a great first date, a really good way to see if you click with a person, what their tastes are, how they perceive the world and such. You can talk, quietly of course, and not talk, just to see how comfortable (or not) those silences are. He likes impressionism, Renior and the like. I am more into the gothic religious works and the studys by Van Dyke and his followers. We both liked the sclupture, classical in style. We then went back to the South Street area to eat. The restaurant he chose was a trendy little eatery off of South Street. The food was tasty and the martinis' were perfection. We talked about work and schooling and careers. After dinner we walked through the area, South St. has changed but hasn't, if you know what I mean. Twilight was upon us so we walked through the Revolutionary War parks to an outdoor cafe for iced coffees. The conversation was light and animated, laying the groundwork for date number two. Since he had to get up god-awful early, he drove me to the train station. I floated home. All in all, it was a perfect day.

First Posted 22 April 2004

Time Line to Disaster

Well, I have a date. A real, honest to goodness, bonifide, grade-a date. I am freaking out. Thursday is the day. I am smiling so hard, my eyes are shut. I am freaking out. I have not been on a "real" date in a very long time. I have never been on a date with someone that I didn't already kinda know, so this is going to be very weird. I am freaking out! Oh Christ! What the hell am I going to wear. Tomorrow morning I think I will be on my way to Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love and my second adopted home town. Atlantic City is the first and now Boston is the third (I'm all over, like dog poop). I think I will be taking in the Philadelphia Museum of Art, a favourite haunt, to see the Manet and the Sea exhibit and stroll around Franklin Parkway to the Rodin Museum, then maybe along the Schyulkill River and Fairmount Park, it should be a nice day and I will throughly enjoy the trip. Afterword, I think a nice dinner at a small restaurant known for it's laid back atmosphere and good food, and then I think I'll maybe make a stop for an after dinner cocktail (martini, natch) at a trendy watering hole where the well heeled go to kick up their Pradas. I'll make it an early evening so I think I'll probably go back to the Main Line, and rest my head on a big comfy pillow, and dream the dreams of small children and the insane. I think. Should any of this happen, I'll definitely be declared mad. Mad, bad and fabulous to know. Well, all the plans are set, I am packed and about to get showered and changed and I'll be taking the train to Philadelphia for an afternoon rendezvous. Can you say, excited? I hardly slept and I feel like a little kid, Christ, I need a valium. For those of you astute enough to notice that I packed a bag, that's none of your business, smarty pants. I'll probably be home tomorrow afternoon, so don't wait up...

First Posted 21 April 2004

A Lament For Class

Oh hear and be mournful for the death of class. Bow your head in shame for the end of propriety. Fall to your knees in despair for the collapse of social mores. Long have we suffered the wasting away of all that was good and decent. Long have we stood by witnessing the slow ebb of polite society fade into eternal slumber. I say to you, wail and clutch at your breast in shame for what the masses pass off as acceptable behavior in this dark day and age. When did "Yo!" replace "Excuse me?"? When did clothing become so agressive and threatening instead of smart and clean? When did grown men begin dressing as juvenile delinquents and not like grown men? When did grown women begin dressing as child prostitutes instead of grown women? When did wearing a bikini top, a thong, low rider jeans and sandals become fashionable in the dead of winter? When did screaming into a mobile phone replace talking to the person next to you? When did screaming in public into a mobile phone become acceptable? When did demanding replace asking? When did we lose the practice of saying "Hello." or "Thank you." or "Good-bye."? How about "Please?" or "May I?"? Why don't we say "God bless you." to a stranger who sneezes? When did a martini become acceptable to drink out of a plastic cup? When did champagne become acceptable to drink out of the bottle? Alone? Why don't we write thank you notes for gifts or parties or favors done for us anymore? Why do we let a pregnant woman stand on the bus? Why do people tell you the most intimate/horrifying details of their life when you ask, "How are you?"? Lo and behold the bitter crop that we have sown. No wonder cocooning is a national sport. It's a horrible world out there. Forever gone are the days when one knew that to live in society, you have to behave socially. There were rules of behavior. To be polite, to mind your manners, to follow the golden rule. That golden rule, my dear fellow mourners, is not just tarnished, it was melted down and stuck on someone's front tooth. Class is dead. Services will not be held. No one is polite enough to show up

First Posted 21 April 2004

Holy-Daze

Easter is kind of a weird holiday for me. Not really into the whole Jesus-comes-out-of-the-tomb-sees-his-shadow-and-we-have-six-more-weeks-of-lent thing, and I never really liked the jelly bean bunny poo left all over the baskets. And buttercreme chocolate eggs, uugghh! I didn't mind the new clothes that we would go and get, I just hated having to wear the fashions of the decade I was a child in. Well, that's not true. I hated not being able to pick out what I really wanted to wear. Halston didn't make a children's line, that bitch. I did always enjoy getting together with my family, especially my Aunt Janet. She was, in her own way, my Auntie Mame. I learned every dirty word, raunchy joke and disgusting bodily function from her. I learned how to play cards, especially Crazy Eights. I learned from her what beer tasted like. Hated it. And Vodka. LOVED IT! It was always a treat going to see her, as you can imagine. She always let me sit at the adult table, my sister and cousins hated me. I felt was always above them, anyway. They never got my humor. Now-a-days, the family has moved around and far away, and with work and life and divorce and death, we rarely get together as we used to. It's a shame. I think, just as a way of honoring those long ago days, I'm going to buy a new pair of dress shoes, a bad polyester suit from Penny's, leave the product out of my hair and go visiting the folks. On the holiday. Hey it can't hurt, except my feet. When's Easter?

First Posted 21 April 2004

Red Ribbon Bingo

Sunday night was the return of Red Ribbon Bingo at the Sands Hotel and Casino in their Copa Room. This is an event we haven't held in a year due to the management changes the Sands has gone through. Hell, they go through more CEO's in a year than we go through stockings. The event was a smashing success. Each game was sponsored by a local business, we received a slew of raffle prizes and we had a great turnout. I got to play with the bingo balls all evening. Fun for me! The evening got off to a great start because the first ball I called was O-69. If you've been there, you know what that means. With the inclusion of past Miss'd Americas, Lemon Fresh Joy and Morgan Wells, the event is shaping up to be a fabulous must-see each month. We raised a great deal of money for the South Jersey A.I.D.S. Alliance (SJAA), money they badly need to battle this hateful disease and help those in need who are living with it. I hope to see you there next month

First Posted 21 April 2004

My building has this low shudder, every now and again. It's a bit disconcerting, like a low scale tremor you might feel on the west coast. The rumble and noise of the heavy machinery out on the beach are the cause. It's a twenty-four hour-a-day operation to replenish the beach on Absecon Island. Finally the downbeach communities have relented and agreed to have their beaches replenished as well and the whole island will now have the beaches it once had twenty years ago. Kind of. The reason those other communities on our isle were originally opposed to the project was the fact we will have to put dunes on the beach. That's something new to our coastline. And the dunes are almost a story high, blocking the views of those several million dollar homes that line the beach in the more restricted sections of our shared barrier-island strip of land. So as you can imagine, the few very wealthy residents in their floor-to-ceiling window bungalo/mansions had tried to block saving the beach for the tens of thousands of residents and millions of visitors (can you say "shoobie") that live in and visit our little corner of the world. In the past, we would only add to the Atlantic City beaches. But after all the expense, and after a few winter nor'easters, all the sand would wash away to the more southern community of Wildwood, on whose beaches you now actually have to drive to get to the ocean. So I will put up with the shudder, and they will have to put up with looking at dunes so all of you can come on down this summer and enjoy our brand new, wide, fresh beaches. You see, I don't go on the beach, and the shudder will end soon, and I live in a penthouse overlooking the beach and ocean so I don't care about the dunes. "If you have a tan, that means you work in the fields"-Marie Antoinette