All Babies are Cute

I’m a sucker for babies as much as the next girl. Therefore, it is not surprising that the E*Trade baby prompts me to reinvest in a foundering stock market or animated characters have round faces and large, liquid eyes by calculated design. In Shrek 2 when Puss in Boots makes his appearance, it isn’t Antonio Banderas’s voice that gets me, it’s the Puss’s pleading pool-sized brown eyes. I would do anything for Puss in Boots. (Just don’t tell him that.)

So, it puzzles me why I would love alligators. Their eyes are tiny, beady even, in relation to their long tooth-filled snouts. And yet, baby alligators are cute. They really are.

Here in Florida, it is hard to avoid ‘gators. They’re on signs, on shirts, in the lakes, the swamps, front lawns and in swimming pools (on occasion). They’re also on menus. The best way to eat ‘gator tail is to fry it (or so I was told by someone in the know). In a pinch you could barbecue it or smoke it. It is extremely important to avoid eating the alligator fat, which apparently is the most foul tasting fat in the world. “Once you taste ‘gator fat, you never go back to eating ‘gator again,” I was informed by a connoisseur. It was at that point that I decided to not risk it . . . ever.

This informative connoisseur is actually a ‘gator lover and an airboat guide. During the course of an hour, he shared lore and well worn jokes as he deftly guided the boat through shallow waters and glided to a stop near one full grown ‘gator after another (one 6’, one 8’ one 9’). Did you know that you can estimate the length of a ‘gator by adding a foot for every inch from its eyes to the end of its snout? Did you know that alligators keep growing their entire lives? Did you know that although they lose their teeth, the teeth grow back bigger and badder every time? Did you know that their babies are cute? Oh yes, they are absolutely adorable.

Floating quietly near a gator submerged, it didn’t take long to notice the little ones scampering about. They are awkward little things as they wobble along on their toddler’s little legs. Mama ‘gator provides nothing other than protection and even that isn’t sufficient when you’ve got 36 little ‘gators running off in all directions.

As babies, they eat minnows and bugs and are eaten in turn by birds and bass. Only 2-3 babies per clutch live long enough to turn the tables again on the very birds and fish that ate their siblings. As little ones, though, they are cute, and vulnerable, just like other babies we know. They seem oblivious to life’s dangers and they explore without limits. They are fearless. I think that’s why I love them . . . despite their non-Puss in Boots eyes.

Florida Spirits

Florida is a big, peninsular state. It is flat, surrounded by water, boggy in many places and warm for the most part. People like it here, and so do bugs and alligators. The bugs and alligators were here first and, in my opinion, are best left alone.

Here in Florida, everyone seems interested in where you’re from, since most people here are from elsewhere. At the Disney parks, “crew member” name tags include the employee’s home state. After landing in Orlando and claiming luggage, two employees at Alamo inquired where I was from before I even got close to a car. One man, pointing the way toward a silver Ford Escort, lit up when I told him that I was from California. “Oh, I lived in San Diego, and still have family there,” he said. “I’d like to move back, but the wife won’t. She likes it here because it’s cheaper, and the livin’ is easy.”

When buying tickets at Disney’s Animal Kingdom, I was asked once again where I was from. By mid-day, however, I had miraculously become a Florida resident. When asked by a greeter at Tusker’s Restaurant, “Where are you from?” the question was answered for me by a hostess. “Oh, she’s a resident,” she volunteered. “I can tell because she isn’t wearing a coat.” Granted, it was a little nippy that day and as I looked around, most people were wearing sweatshirts and jackets. I didn’t have the heart to tell the hostess that I’m from California and rarely wear a coat there either. One of the oddities of being a medium is that I almost always feel overheated.

When talking with the spirits, I ask them where they’re from. In response I’m often shown topography (rolling hills, farm land, mountains, islands) or specific states such as Florida, New York or Iowa. Because we’re associated with where we’re from, the spirits often use this information as an identifier. If a spirit is from a non-English speaking country, I will often hear their native tongue spoken in the background even though their thoughts to me are in English.

It might seem a bit strange that I'm in Florida when the weather in California is just as fine. Well, one of the reasons I flew across the country is to explore promotional opportunities for my book I'm Not Dead, I'm Different. Florida is filled with spirits of people from all states and nations, and while I'm here, I intend to meet as many of them as I can.

On the Road Again

Did you know that the movie Up in the Air was based on my life? It was odd re-imagining myself as George Clooney. However, when he laid all of his cards on the table, his travel loyalty cards that is, I said to myself, “He’s me!” and checked in the mirror to see if my eyes had changed from blue to brown and the rest of me had changed from . . . well . . . you know.

Those of you who receive my monthly e-newsletter, “Messages ~ Love, Hope and Healing in Spirit,” already know how much time I live on the road. With the advent of my first book this year, I will no doubt be joining the million mile club.

To celebrate this prospect, I will be blogging my way through the year, sharing stories of the road. Inevitably I meet interesting people on earth and in spirit and have adventures primarily due to my innate ability to create incidents wherever I go (without meaning to do so).

I do hope that you’ll join me on my journey and share your thoughts as I move from airport to airport and town to town. I promise to post pictures of my adventures (and no, that does not mean photos of full body scans as I navigate the new security measures).

Tomorrow morning I leave for Florida at 5:00 a.m. My boarding passes are printed and I’m wondering if the metal in my reconstructed ankle will look like a threat. Am I packed? No. So I guess I better get started.

My itinerary includes Cassadaga, the oldest Spiritualist camp in the U.S. and a few days with the Mouse (you know who I mean). I’ll keep you posted as I keep making posts.