Florida 2009: Some Notes

Photos

One thing that doesn't go wrong in Tampa this time of the year is the weather. It rained twice during our six weeks there. Otherwise, it was sunny and 27-29 degrees everyday.

Over the years, I've come to the conclusion that, for a city to have decent Chinese food, there must exist a significant Cantonese population. The Tampa area has lots of Asian people, but only a small percentage of them are Cantonese. Consequently, the Chinese food there is lousy. Almost every Chinese restaurant does buffet, and the one across the street from us even sells dishes by weight. Not a good sign.

We bought the whole package of Blue Jays Spring Training games this year, and ended up attending most of them. Unlike regular season games at the Sky Dome, Spring Training games in Dunedin are very loosey-goosey. It was fun watching the players warm up before the games. Some of the friendlier ones would come over to sign autographs for fans. Having no use for an autograph, Jeff usually shook their hands and wished them "good luck" instead. One day, he decided to ask Aaron Hill, the second baseman, for a photo together. The affable Mr Hill gladly agreed. So I quickly whipped out my iPhone. The result was a nice picture of the two of them.

The World Baseball Classic was taking place while we were in Florida. The games were very exciting, but judging by the empty stadiums, not too many Americans thought so. It seems that the concept of countries going head to head for national glory is not an attractive one to Americans. I felt badly for the Cuban team. The draw was obviously rigged so that they were grouped with the Japanese and the Koreans, fighting for one of only two spots in the final round. Those three teams were in fact the three best teams in the tourney. The double-elimination format is also unfair when the pool is small because the team that gets to play a weak team first has a big advantage over the rest of the field. Evidently, nobody cares about fairness in this whole business.

We also watched many hours of March Madness. One thing I love about the college game is that the college kids make mistakes that NBA players never make. The other day, one player stepped on the line while trying to inbound the ball when there were only a few seconds left in the game. Oh, the look on the coach's face! You just don't see that in the NBA.

Aside from playing lots of tennis as we always do in Florida, I played what is for me a great deal of golf. This is a game that has tormented me for years. I first started swinging a club in my early twenties, and over the years, I've said many times that I give up --- the game is too tough, and I'm not having any fun. Jeff kept on telling me that I only needed to play more regularly to get better, but I was convinced that I'd never get anywhere. This time, we managed to play twice a week. Amazingly, I got noticeably better. As a result, the game became much more enjoyable. The courses in Florida are very flat, so they may well be fell-good courses. Let's see what happens when I go back to play in Toronto.

The Tampa area at the time bore many visible scars of the recession. Everywhere one sees for-sale signs on front lawns and for-lease signs on shop windows. Restaurants which required reservations last year were half empty. In the bright sunshine, everything still looks cheery and carefree. Surrounded by the blue ocean and tall palms, one would be hard-pressed to have gloomy thoughts.

The condo we rented is inside a gated complex. There is a lovely big swimming pool which we never used, but we did take advantage of the indoor basket court. I'd never played basketball, so Jeff had to teach me the basic rules and techniques. Shooting a hoop is quite addictive, and I longed to hear the nice swish sound. I have no gift though. When we played one-on-one, I couldn't even get a shot off.

Portnoy's Complaint by Philip Roth

This book, even now, forty years after it was first published, is still hilarious. I thought Mordecai Richler was funny; Philip Roth is funnier. There is no story in this novel, only a ceaseless stream of complaints by the protagonist. Hence the title. So the book reads like a one-man stand-up comedy routine. Mr Roth is merciless. Ouch. No wonder Jeff says some people were quite offended by the book.