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"The Silence of the Lambs" is playing on a channel with commercials, but our friends' house is an open-plan one, and so I can look up and see it on their big-screen TV. I've seen it with Pat once before, and I can't look away. Jody Foster's hair reminds me of a lighter version of mine when I was 20 -- a brunette bob-as-helmet.
This morning, though, was a different scene:
Pat and I sat on the balcony of our friends' condo, eating Fage yogurt and fresh blueberries as a yacht filled with women in bikinis and bare-chested guys in their mid-thirties parked their yacht at the John's Pass Marina across the way. The yacht had a stereo, playing a pop-song I had never before heard, but liked instantly.
As the beautiful women -- all of them -- disembarked, a pelican flew overhead and I was reminded of my dad, of blessed memory, who had a pen collection, including at least one Pelikan brand fountain pen. And then a Casino Cruises 1-800-LUCKY-DAY ship beeped its horn to open the draw-bridge at the mouth of the Gulf of Mexico, taking me out of my revery.
This vacation has hit the spot.