Filming in Florida

Yesterday was my last day in Florida, and of course the most nerve-wracking day of all since it was the day of the actual filming.

At the appointed time (well, a bit early) I drove to the studio.

It didn't look like much on the outside (except for this HUGE antenna)...

...but inside was a veritable maze of rooms and studios...

I was escorted to the Green Room, a lovely place, to wait until the current guests were finished filming. I paced around nervously.

Then it was my turn. I shouldn't have fretted. The hosts -- Herman and Sharron -- were a kindly older couple who had been married 53 years. They were as nice as could be and immediately put me at my ease.

The studio was fascinating to see from the inside. The studio had a number of sets used for different shows. Ours was a "garden" set.

Other sets were dining rooms, a desk area, and even a full living room.

One of the cameras was on a boom, so it could be moved around from a higher angle.

The whole ordeal wasn't nearly as nerve-wracking as I thought it would be, except for being painfully aware of my appearance. The reason is the lights shine so brightly I couldn't see the cameras, so they didn't freak me out too much. Instead I tried to concentrate on just chatting with the hosts.

Nonetheless, I was GLAD when it was over!

I happened to notice the temperature as I left the studio. Ug, sometimes it's better not to know.

After lunch, I immediately hit the road since it was a two-hour drive back to Orlando. I waved at the dinosaur as I passed.

While driving, something unusual happened at 1:52 local time. I was listening to a news station broadcasting out of Washington D.C. when all of a sudden the female host stopped, gasped, and said "Oh my God, we're having an earthquake!" She and the male host were being shaken in their studio, live during the broadcast. All the pre-recorded sound bites they had lined up for their news stories suddenly didn't work, but that was okay, they had lots of stuff to fill the air time ("breaking news," they called it). (Apparently the political Tweets were almost instantaneous. My favorite so far: Evidently the quake occurred on a little known fault line outside of DC called "Bush's Fault.")

When I got to the airport, it was insane. The security line was massive and very slow-moving. When I got to the fist checkpoint, I asked the TSA fellow if it was always this crowded. He said it was the busiest time of day for flying anyway, but because of the earthquake, there were massive flight delays. I was glad I got to the airport as early as I did.

And thankfully I didn't have to go through any TSA nonsense on this end either. Perhaps it was due to the huge crowds (which, I'll admit, were very cooperative and well-behaved as a whole), but I merely walked through a metal detector, re-gathered my belongings, and I was good to go. The flight the Denver wasn't delayed, nor was the second leg of the trip from Denver to Spokane.

Flying west, the sun was at an angle that photos didn't really come out. This is a color-enhanced shot as we were landing in Denver.

And of course, Denver has the funky roof of the terminal to amuse visitors.

The second half of the flight was entirely in the dark, so photos wouldn't have worked. But here is Spokane (or more specifically, Spokane Valley) just as we're approaching the airport.

My flight arrived on top at 11 pm and Don met me without any trouble. What a tiring day! I'm glad to be home and glad to have survived the experience.

Thoughts from Florida

For the last couple days here in Florida, I’ve spent a lot of time listening to intense coverage about the possible path of Hurricane Irene. From these news reports, I came away with the impression that Floridians take preparedness very seriously.

Or do they?

Clearly hurricanes are a yearly occurrence for anyone living along coastal or near-inland areas of this region. If anyone needs to be chronically prepared for some very tough (but predictable) events, it’s the folks in Florida.

Yet the radio announcers, covering the storm’s path, continually urged people to put aside food, water, flashlights, plywood, duct tape, and other hurricane necessities before the storm became imminent. And why were they doing that? Evidently it was because not enough people actually were.

To me, this seems the height of foolishness or naïveté or something similarly baffling. I mean, here’s a state that – yearly – faces some of the most fearsome and powerful forces in nature. And what do people do? They flood Home Depot in the hours leading up to the storm and try to get plywood that many have no idea how to affix to the outsides of their windows. They panic.

I don’t mean to pick on Floridians here, but am merely using this beautiful state to illustrate a broader point: namely, despite the fact that folks here have constant and chronic experience with tragic storms, many still don’t “get it” and just won’t prepare. Go figure.

About a year and a half ago, at home in Idaho, we had a serious windstorm with sustained winds of about forty-five miles an hour, with gusts much higher than that. We knew it was coming. We were warned with several days of forecasts. We prepared for it. We had water, a means to cook, a means to stay warm, a means to flush the toilet, and a means to see in the dark. In the time preceding the storm, we battened down the hatches: took a dump run, cleaned up the outside, and prepared the livestock. (The one thing I forgot to do was re-stake the young fruit trees.)

But some neighbors didn’t do any of this. Why, I don’t know… but they arrived home in the midst of the storm to a cold dark house. Since they’re entirely dependent on electricity, they had no lights, no heat, no way to cook, etc. We invited them over for dinner and had a pleasant visit, but once again it illustrated a broader point: WHY weren’t they ready? Didn’t they pay attention to the storm warnings? Even if they didn’t, why weren’t they prepared to be without power for a mere few hours? In this case our power was only out for five hours. What if it had been five days?

Folks, this is inexcusable. If you live in a place that regularly sees hurricanes or other natural disasters, I would expect everyone to have the necessary preparations in place to cope with all but the most severe storms. (Obviously this doesn’t count for the Katrinas or Hugos or Andrews that simply devastate a community. No one can “prepare” for that.) If you live in a place, like us, where a good snowstorm can strand people for days at a time, I would expect everyone to have the means to cook, see, stay warm, get water, and feed their animals.

Our severe windstorm and most hurricanes at least have the luxury of advanced warnings, thanks to the efforts of alert weathermen. But what if we’re afflicted with a natural disaster without warning? Earthquakes and tornadoes can strike with little or no notice.

That’s why I’m constantly nagging everyone to have the basics ready and available so you can live with moderate comfort through most service disruptions (or, alternately, to evacuate as necessary).

Being here in Florida for a mere three days, it’s gone through my head how vulnerable I am should something happen. The only “preparedness” item I have with me is a flashlight. I have no food, no water, no medical gear, no firearm. I don’t even have the emergency car kit we keep in our vehicle at home. I have nothing that could be used to mitigate any dire circumstances if the bleep were to hit the fan NOW. It’s kind of an unsettling feeling.

But once I’m home in the bosom of my family, I’ll be ready to handle the range of natural or artificial disasters we can expect in our region, both long-term and short-term.

I hope all the lovely Floridians I’ve met on this trip will do the same.

Sightseeing in Florida

With a day to myself in Largo, I decided to do some sightseeing. In the lobby of the hotel is one of those displays that has brochures from all the local tourist attractions. And you know what caught my eye?

The zoo! Specifically the Lowry Park Zoo in Tampa.

Zoos have a special meaning for me. When I got my master's degree in the biological sciences (specifically, Environmental Education), it was with an idea toward working in a zoo one day. So what happened? We ended up setting in a spot 300 miles from the nearest zoo. I haven't been to a zoo in over ten years. So despite the heart-stopping entry price ($23!!!!), I decided to go.

Well it was superb. The zoo was confusingly laid out, but that was half the charm. I only consulted the zoo map a few times to confirm I hadn't missed anything, and despite the heat and humidity, I enjoyed myself thoroughly. So pardon my excitement as I post highlights of some of the animals.

Indian rhinoceros. It's hard to imagine a more prehistoric-looking creature. The classic description of this animal looking "armored" is dead-on true. Look at the plates on that body!

And as if this wasn't cool enough, there was a baby rhino! He (or she) was gamboling about the enclosure, butting into mama and thoroughly enjoying him/herself.

I was joking to myself that I had to come all the way to Florida to see a Bald Eagle in captivity, when we see them all the time in the wild where we live.

These tortoises were enthusiastically doing exactly what it looks like they're doing.

The highlight of the zoo is its manatee recovery tank. Many manatees that have been injured in the wild come here for vet treatment and rehabilitation.

Here a zoo worker is cleaning the inside of the tank. The blue double-circle gizmo in her right hand is a suction to attach to the window to keep her from bobbing to the surface, while she cleans the glass with her left hand.

Manatees are big benign-looking creatures. It was feeding time so many were chomping leaves of lettuce.

Apparently one of the most common injuries for manatees is getting caught in boat propellers. This female had half her tail flipper ripped off. The sign said she's nearly ready to be released back into the wild, just in time for her to calve.

(This is what a regular tail looks like -- nearly circular.)

I have no idea what kind of tree this was, but it was impressively fruiting.

All over the place, I saw parasitical orchids in trees.

A collection of lawn ornaments. Whoops, sorry, these are flamingos.

Lorikeets. Staggeringly pretty birds. This was an apiary, so we were right in with them.

Flying foxes, the biggest bats in the world. Wingspan about four feet. WAY cool.

An apiary full of budgies. I'm fond of these critters, having had many as pets.

By this point a thunderstorm was looming, with some impressive thunder rolling in.

But I couldn't go without seeing one of my favorite animals, the giraffe. You know how in high school, so many girls are horse-crazy? Well, I was giraffe crazy. Absolutely gaga over 'em.

They have such beautiful eyes.

Eating some lettuce.

Majestic during some times...

...awkward during others.

They even had a skull on display.

Some more armored personnel.

I had just finished seeing all the displays when the heavens opened and it started pouring WARM rain. As I was driving away, a crack of lightning and a boom of thunder came simultaneously, so it was definitely not the time to be in the open.

After that enlightening afternoon, I figured I couldn't leave Florida without seeing the beach, so I asked directions at the hotel desk for a suitable place to visit. They directed me to Clearwater Beach.

It was, to put it mildly, impressive. Miles of pure white sand as well as miles of condos and hotels. Facing north...

...and facing south.

The water was bottle green and very clear.

Brown pelicans were everywhere.

I got off the pier and went onto the sand. It was burning hot and fine as sugar. Just gorgeous. But when I stepped into the water, I nearly fell over. It was warm! Warm as milk fresh out of the cow! I'd never stepped in (natural) water that was so warm!

I went under the pier (the only shady spot) and for many minutes just stood in that warm water, marveling that I was in Florida.

This gigantic monstrosity, I learned, is a Hyatt Regency Hotel. Cha-ching! Can you imagine what it must cost to get an ocean-view room? (Between $200 and $550 per night. I looked it up.)

There was, to my considerable surprise, a pirate ship out to sea. Well, why not?

It chugged (for make no mistake, it had engines!) up the coast a mile or so, then turned around, discharged a couple of loud cannon booms, and chugged back. Very impressive.

Sated with hot sunshine and humidity, I knew it was time to get back to the hotel before I wilted from the heat.

I stopped for dinner, and as I came out of the restaurant I noticed this billowing thunderhead towering over.

A little thunder and lightening, but nothing serious.

By the way, I don't think I've ever seen such a place for clouds that resemble things. (I've enhanced the colors to make them more visible.) This morning I noticed a lion's head...

...when I got to the beach I noticed this huge fish...

...and driving back to the hotel I noticed a catfish. Go figure.

Today was my day of play. Tomorrow is the more serious business of going on television. Yikes.