St. Petersburg Old and New, November 2019

At the Moon Under Water with Sandie & Christopher (lower right); at the Chihuly Collection,
a colorful permanent exhibition; at Cerviche restaurant, another fav; walking about downtown. 

It's nice to be in St. Petersburg, Florida, on the lovely Gulf Coast, in November.  Sunshine, warmth, birds of paradise still in bloom, yellow lantana, pink daisies, plumbago.  Actually it's nice to be there any time, any season. I lived in Florida for some 10 years, and from time to time, like in Winter, I miss it.

At the Chihuly Collection

I was in St. Pete this time to visit friends Sandie and Christopher, who live downtown. I rented a car, but they warned me before I got there that parking would be a problem. Sure enough it was. Where we used to park on 5th Avenue outside the Bay Villa Condo anytime of the day or night, now every street downtown is posted with DO NOT PARK signs, Two Hour Parking signs, or hungry Parking Meters that gobble up quarters by the 15-minutes.  Fortunately, Christopher offered to park in an overnight garage a few blocks away so I could park in his (precious) spot at the Presbyterian Towers.

That made it easier for me and Sandie to use the car, get out and about, go food shopping, to Tyrone Mall, to her doctor appointments.  Sandie is having some medical issues and we were concerned about her health. I was a bit of a bug about her continuing to do physical exercises. I know how hard that is, but it's do or die. Keep moving or stop altogether and end up in a wheelchair. I know.  I know. I can be so annoying. "I just want you to be healthy and happy," I said. "I know."

St. Pete in my mind.
Old postcard (LP artwork)

Some things remain the same and some thing have changed. Downtown St. Pete is bustling with new restaurants, shops, museums, and 10-12 story Condos. Huge, luxurious, expensive condos. Construction is everywhere and constant, including in the area that used to be The Pier, which has been demolished. It's a bit overwhelming. Thank goodness the Gelato ice cream parlor is still there, and the Moon Under Water. Well at least for a while.

Christopher recently learned that the Moon had been sold to new owners. Oh my, we wondered, what would happen to this downtown icon? This old British Colonial Tavern on the Bay? It's been there forever. We decided we had to have dinner there and see if we could get more information.  Would the name change? The menu? The cozy wood tavern inside, with flags all around the walls?

We sat down and ordered. It felt the same. Bright unbrellas. Same menu. Same lovely view of the Bay, a picture of white sails and colorful boats across a blue horizon with a rising half-moon. How lucky to see the moon, a crystal whiteness this time, but the same moon my brother Loren and I watched so many times together when I lived in Florida, and often in this very spot.  I felt Loren nearby. I felt his closeness to Sandie, who had been such a good friend, and to Christopher, who had helped him publish his memoirs, An Asperger Journey. We toasted to friendships.

This is the amazing Banyon tree across from the Moon. My
grandkids liked to climb it whenever they came to visit. Alli
and Josh remember it, which makes me happy.

We asked our waiter about the change. He kind of blew it off. Little will change, he mumbled, it'll be the same. Same friendly service. A half smile. Not sure about the menu. Really? It will still be an authentic British tavern?  Christopher had gone inside and found fewer Colonial flags on the walls and more large TV screens in their place, such as you might see in a . . . Sports Bar.

Aha, okay, we get the picture. Nothing is constant but change. At least the view will always be there, or so we hoped. The whole park along the Bay could be covered with tall garish Condos one day. We put that thought aside. We took another sip of wine. We kicked back and enjoyed the moment. "It's all we have," we agreed.