My Saturdays used to bring me to a park.
I would either find myself amidst the park-goers of Central Park or among the Bleacher Creatures of Yankee Stadium.
I have yet to discover my Florida park.
Instead, my park-option has been to walk around Sarasota and take in a farmers’ market.
This is probably closer to walking in Central Park than watching a ballgame in Yankee Stadium. Pre-pandemic, the Sarasota experience was like walking through a Woodstock reunion. People of that age milling about, some in tie-dye apparel, others accompanied by their pets.
Booths erected to encourage buying and selling, primarily items like coffee, vegetables, and the like. Then there are the shops of a more permanent nature like book stores. It’s nice to wander through a book store and to find something you weren’t even looking for or even thinking about before you snatched it off the shelf to purchase.
Amazon is easier but not nearly as much fun.
I have to remind myself to buy a stereo system.
My new Mac desktop doesn’t accommodate loading a CD onto iTunes, and I have grown desirous of re-purchasing the vinyl records I gave away before moving to Florida.
Bluetoothing my iTunes saved music on to my Bose is easier, but I long to flip an album to the other side and marvel at the album art and liner notes.
I haven’t yet decided what kind of system I will buy or, more importantly, where to put it when I do.
I know the next thing I will be looking for is a used SLR camera that uses film instead of digits and doesn’t know squat about pixels. I have my son’s enlarger in the garage, so maybe I will go back to the days I developed my own prints?
That’s a nice thought, but digital is too easy for me to create a darkroom in the Sunshine State.
Maybe I should just get a tune-up kit for my 1973 Vega and call it a day?