HE RODE INTO TOWN ON A DONKEY

Today is Palm Sunday. A Christian holiday. The day Jesus Christ rode into Jerusalem on a donkey.

A donkey instead of a horse. Reasons two fold. First, to show humility. Second, to evidence to the people that He came in peace and not as a warrior king.

The people scattered palm branches in front of Jesus.

His entry into Jerusalem triumphal.

Less than a week later, Jesus would be dead.

Though not a major holiday, Palm Sunday was one my Italian family celebrated. Generally at my grandparents’. The whole family. Aunts, uncles and cousins.

The meal not unusual. That would come next week on Easter Sunday. A huge bowl of ziti. If a special touch at all, melted mozzarella on top of the ziti. A meat sauce, of course. Meat consisted of the meatballs, beef and pork which were part of the sauce. A huge pasta bowl of such meats. Salad. The meal concluded with espresso and fruit.

My grandfather would start dinner with a blessing. He would take a small piece of palm and dip it into a bottle of Holy Water he kept. He would say a few words and sprinkle us.

The palms were a big deal. You had to go to Church to get palms. They were given out during Mass. When I was a kid, all the palms a person wanted. In later years, each person attending Church got one. Cost, scarcity, or what? I could never figure it out.

My uncles were pros at making crosses and other things out of palms. Small crosses, large crosses. Horses and other animals. Like the balloons of today which can be molded into anything.

The Italian custom was to visit the homes of friends after Mass. To exchange palms. A hug and kiss. Followed by a Happy Palm Sunday!

I was invited by friends on Sugarloaf to party last night. Drinks at someone’s house first. Then dinner at Square Grouper.

About 20 miles each way. Too far for me if I was drinking. I wanted to have a few drinks since I have been avoiding as best possible alcohol while on a diet.

So, I opted for Berlin’s alone.

Shawn and Gage bartending. The lovely Bria singing. Tuna for dinner.

After dinner, I sat in the lounge for a while listening to Bria sing and sipping a Bally’s Irish Cream.

While at the bar, a hug from behind. It was Lynda Frechette. Together with husband Bob, ML and Brad. All good people. Especially Lynda who does for everyone. They were having dinner inside at A&B.

Bob was wearing a blazer. Confirmed my thought expressed earlier this week that the no jacket Key West no longer existed. Bob had jumped over the fence.

Another couple was listening to Bria also. Charlie and Margo. Margo visiting from Maine. Charlie originally from Fonda, New York. Like 70 miles from my home town Utica. Small world.

Bob now lives full time in Key West. On a boat located in a Stock Island marina.

Walmart, where fort art thou Walmart?

Roughly 10 years since it was announced that a private group was going to build a Walmart on Rockland Key. 335,000 square feet with some smaller stores.

Still not built. Key West Citizen reported yesterday size now 150,000 feet. No date to begin construction advised.

The problem has involved the land owners and developers. Ten years of fighting over money, including a court case.

I wish they would get the project off the ground. We need a Walmart in the lower keys. We wear shorts and t-shirts. Brooks Brothers we are not.

We also need a cheaper place to purchase groceries.

The Key West Citizen wrote on the first page of this morning’s paper that taxis are going the way of the dinosaur. No question about it. Such the case, the City Commission should get off its ass and approve Uber and Lyft for Key West operation.

Let me finish with Trump’s bombing of Syria.

I was/am generally opposed. Not our war. I don’t see the English, French or Germans bombing anyone. They’re too smart.

On the other hand, once the Rubicon has been crossed, Trump should have done the job correctly. Destroyed Assad’s Air Force.

What did Trump do? Fifty nine missiles. Directed at one air base. Twenty planes destroyed. Twelve killed.

In retaliation for 70 plus lives lost. Proportionate? No way!

Even worse, not one of the runways was damaged. It is said the U.S. spoke with Russia in the afternoon and advised what we were going to do. I suspect that during any conversations, Russia said no potholes in the runways, please.

The Democrats describe the bombing as a pin prick. I have to agree. Not a political conclusion on my part. A common sense one.

Enjoy your Sunday!

 

 

PALM SUNDAY

Palm Sunday is significant in most Christian churches. It was in the Catholic Church I knew.

Key West probably never had a problem with palm sufficiency. Up north in Utica, I can recall a time when palms were scarce for some reason. Either costly or unavailable. Instead of getting all the palms you wanted at Mass, one had to settle for a single branch.

Palm Sunday was special in the Italian tradition. Palms were exchanged. Family and friends would come to our house and exchange palms with us. Followed by coffee. We went to certain homes and exchanged palms.

It was family dinner time! In and of itself should not have excited me. Every Sunday was family dinner time at my grandparents’.

I had an uncle who was talented in manipulating the palm branches. He could make crosses of all sizes, little hats, etc. It was always good to see him as I would walk away with a lot of “loot”.

The celebration of Palm Sunday commemorates Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. Palm branches were placed in his path.

When palms were plentiful, my neighborhood Catholic Church had many palms left over. When the shortage hit, I assume they kept some. The reason being that this year’s left over palms are needed for the next year’s Ash Wednesday. The left over palms burned. The ashes used to put  thumbprints on the foreheads of the faithful.

This morning’s Key West Citizen’s Keys History section carries a post card picture of  Little White House and Naval Station circa 1910. What a difference from today

The Little White House had an excellent ocean view. There were no buildings between the Little White House and ocean. Condos, other buildings and the boardwalk  not yet built. The water was a short uninterrupted walk out the back door of the Little White House.

I spent yesterday afternoon researching this week’s KONK Life column. About things most people are not aware, but should know. I will write the column today. I have not decided on a title yet.

Last night was me and a busy Key West. Tourist driven.

I went for dinner to Tavern ‘n Town. Wanted to listen to Bobby Nesbitt, also. No way, Jose! the place was mobbed. Not a bar stool available. Bobby said it was crazy. I agreed and left.

My next stop was the Chart Room. I figured to run into some people I knew and quietly drink the evening away. No luck, again! The Chart Room was packed. Very much so. No locals. I was not in the mood to meet and chat with strangers.

Turned around and walked over to the Hot Tin Roof. Same situation. Tons of tourists. No problem, however, a table in the bar area was waiting.

Spoke with Joseph a bit. Joseph is the Hot Tin Roof manager. He is also the warden at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church. A good man. We talked about St. Paul’s.

Then home. Could not sleep in bed again. My hip. Spent the night in the recliner chair. No problem. slept like a baby!

Enjoy your Sunday!