Lucky People

Dateline: Venice, Florida

There are fortunate people in this world for whom rules and laws do not apply. Sometimes I wish I was one of them.  When I was on our quiet beach the other morning and encountered a lady with a large black dog, I was cross. There is a law here that says dogs may not use the beach. They have a dog beach not that far away.  If my neighbours walk their dogs they stick to the roads. But not this lady, oh no. When I asked her politely whether she had some kind of special permission to take her dog on the beach she said, "No, but he really doesn't like the dog beach; the other dogs chase him."  I suggested that, if everyone else took that attitude, where would we be? There are industrial quantities of dogs in Venice, dogs of all shapes and sizes. If they all decided the laws didn't apply to them, the beach would be bedlam.
And then last week there she was again and again this morning, or it was someone remarkably like her.  Aha - incriminating footprints ..

 And you can just about spot them under the pier but too far away to challenge. There appeared to be a companion too, perhaps for protection against the likes of me.

 But it wouldn't do any good. This person obviously has a blind spot when it comes to self-interest. I think of my friend whose dear old dog would probably love nothing more than to frolic on the beach but she keeps to the rules and doesn't take him there. Good on her.

Goodbye, Greatest Show

  Many people here in Venice, Florida were sad to hear the news that the Greatest Show on Earth is over.  Or almost over. 

After nearly 150 years, one of the most iconic of American  attractions, the Ringling Brothers and Barnum and Bailey Circus has announced it will give its farewell performance in May.

  There are other circuses still going but it seems that kids nowadays prefer smartphones to the smell of sawdust. Computer games provide more spectacular thrills and spills than the Big Top.  I think the last time I went to a circus was on my first ever visit to the United States in the 1970s, when friends took me to a five-ring circus – yes, you had to swivel your head around at lightning speed to catch five acts going on simultaneously. At that time, two rival circuses were both advertising on prime time TV, both claiming to surpass the other in  extravaganza.   Circuses were that important. 

  Then of course there's the animal rights movement – Ringling Brothers strongly denied allegations of cruelty to their performing elephants and successfully sued for damages but in the end decided, for the sake of peace and quiet, to pension them off to a sanctuary.  Ironically it was the act that apparently appealed most to children. Audience numbers dropped off after that.

  Far from being outlets for awe and wonder, traditional circuses these days  seem, not just musty and old-fashioned but slightly shady. Notice what a bad press clowns have got recently – you’re more likely to associate them with Halloween and horror films than innocent slapstick comedy.

  I’ve found myself picking up on all this because Venice was once the Ringling Brothers Circus winter home.  The old practice arena was only pulled down a couple of years ago. There’s a bridge called the “Circus Bridge” and a circus camp on the outskirts of town where kids can learn how to wrangle with the flying trapeze, though whenever I've driven past, its been deserted. 

   Farther up the coast in Sarasota,  St Martha’s church is America’s “National Circus Church”,  and known locally as the “church the circus built”.   The priest would bless the humans and animals as they returned up north.  Wheels from old circus wagons decorate the church walls and yes, our friend the stuffed lion (see below) has pride of place in the parish hall. When St Martha’s needed money for a new building, legendary circus artistes  like clown Emmett Kelly and the Wallenda family of tightrope walkers held benefits in the grounds to raise funds.

  Then there's the Ringling family (on which more later), who donated their Sarasota mansion and land for a circus museum, which we visited a few days ago - here's one of the ornate old wagons - 

 and art gallery.  Also on display is an extraordinary miniature circus, said to be the size of an (American) football field. It has everything, from the elephants emerging from the circus train

 the animals going to the Big Top

 the stalls outside

 the public queuing up

 to see the action

even authentic cars in the car park.

Ghostly circus music played and it all brought a lump to my throat.

   

   And back here  in Venice, there’s a disused railway station, 

now a museum, with a swashbuckling statue of Gunther Gebel-Williams, Ringling Brothers’  most famous lion-tamer. 

 He was said to have entertained  millions of people in more than 12,000 consecutive performances.  He died in 2001, aged only 66 -  miraculously of natural causes.  The statue has a plaque noting his philosophy, that human beings and animals should “work, live and thrive together in harmony”.  The lions’ comments weren’t recorded.   

  “He was the greatest wild animal trainer who ever lived”, sighed the museum volunteer wistfully, when we were there on a previous visit.  In a converted railway caboose (guards' van) 

he showed us dusty cases full of circus memorabilia, like miniature model wagons carrying  exotic animals, pulled by elephants in red coats. And he reminded us that the very railway station we were standing in used to welcome the circus train down for the winter.

  Political correctness aside, I can’t help feeling a little nostalgic. These days, kids probably look at Gunther’s statue and ask, “What’s a lion tamer?”

Coming Up: The End of an Era

Now where could this caged lion possibly be?

The answer is not what it seems. (And don't worry, he's long past caring).
Watch this space.....

Infernal Machine Update

(See below). My friend tells me that if and when you actually get the thing to open up, you can take as many papers as you want. America is obviously a very honest country. I finally plucked up the courage to try one again and sure enough I could reach in and collect a pile of papers. The only trouble was, they were last week's. I extricated the only current one from where it was stuck to the window. I suppose it's OK to do that but I felt a little guilty.

Footprint in the Dust

There it was, in the sandy dust which passes for soil next to our drive.

But who made it?

A flock of ibises had descended on our street and were busy rooting around in the grass and chuntering to each other in tones vaguely reminiscent of those funny robots in Star Wars. With their long legs and long curved beaks they look excitingly exotic - one of the things that makes Florida a different world. Anywhere else, it would be pigeons but these seem so much more glamorous, even when photographed through one of those filmy windows that's supposed to keep out the sun.

Infernal Machines

Proof no (#) 946577348 that I am a foreigner. I finally plucked up the courage to use one of these machines (actually not these very machines but the one outside the YMCA) to buy a newspaper. Americans, of course, have grown up with them. Literally, if you look at the state of some of them.

It should be easy. You put in four quarters (the largest coin and simple to spot) and you get your paper. So that's what I did. The money all fell in with a nice clinking sound but then I found my nemesis.

"Pull" it said. But what do you pull? Is it the knob or the handle? I made a poor choice, as Americans say and pulled the knob. Wrong. By the time I realised I should have pulled the handle, the thing had seized up. It happily swallowed my money and no amount of pleading, begging, banging and kicking would make it cough up the paper. And yes I did check to see there were actually papers in it, as a friend suggested helpfully afterwards. I was able to work that out for myself.
Determined not to be cheated (a dollar is a dollar after all and it's the principle of the matter) I marched into the local newspaper office, which immediately made me feel nostalgic for my old days as a hack. They were very kind and gave me a paper. I asked if there was any way I could get the paper by some other means, apart from having it delivered, which wouldn't make sense as we aren't here for long enough. Were there no corner shops or newsagents in America? The receptionist said there were such things as "convenience stores" that might sell newspapers. I will have to seek them out as I'm now phobic about losing any more of my money to the maw of the yellow peril. My friend consoled me with the interesting information that lots of Americans find the things sometimes seize up on them as well. They are obviously more patient than I am.

Lost in the Car Park

This little egret in the supermarket/grocery store car park/parking lot looked a bit lost and forlorn. As a foreigner in a strange country I often feel like that too. And I know just what it feels like

 When you can't find where you parked your car