How remiss of me. I missed last week’s observation of International Transgender Day of Visibility. I suppose I was too busy celebrating International Artichoke Appreciation Day that also occurred on March 31. Importantly, it was determined that artichokes and pineapples are not related as some might believe. Glad that’s cleared up, for I distinctly remember last year in Bay Minette, AL Walmart, a register clerk suffered that very aforementioned misconception when pointing to my aritichoke asked me: “How much dat pineapple cost?” What a surprise it was to her to learn that my artichoke was definitely not a pineapple although we both agreed that the problem was something like the trans phenomenon. It was a case of fruit impersonation.
With all of this recent focus on trans people, you’re revealing too much about your lonely days in Pensacola.
Do you need to wipe off your lipstick, meine Fräulein?
Pensacola is a marvelous place, filled with retired military people rather than woke crazies. It has one of the finest beaches on earth, great fishing, close proximity to hunting, and a host of festivals and community activities to keep normal humans entertained, occupied, and free from worry. It has a terrific symphony orchestra and opera whose concerts are held in the Saenger Theater, a restored masterpiece concert hall of considerable magnificence. We have downtown athletic stadium where we watch minor league baseball and National Championship Div II football. We also have an ice arena and a professional hockey team. We have Lacrosse League in which up until recently I played on the team. I learned to play Lacrosse while at UM. Adjoining the city, there are National Parks, part of the Gulf Islands National Seashore. There are secluded beaches free of humans, a great sailing venue, all with crystal clear waters. Behind my beach house, I can easily catch crabs, scallops, and shrimp. Every night, I can throw a line out and most of the time pull in a ten pound red fish for dinner. I am living a great life in a great town.