-- We head for Florida on Tuesday.  It's the same trip -- or a variant thereof -- every year.  We drive down the eastern side of Florida with Key West as the ultimate destination.  Our hotel in Key West is an absolute gem.  It will be my 7th year back.  The place is so lovely and quiet it undoubtedly gets the better part of its clientele to come back year after year.  A few years back I was boasting by the pool that I had been five times and the various people lounging around start offering their credentials:  '5 years!'  '9 years...'  And last February I think I found the record holder:  A man having breakfast in the courtyard told me it was his 24th year coming back.  I've vowed to one day pass his mark.  I see no reason not to try.

-- Every drive to Key West has the same feature.  You pass over 7-mile bridge and there is a state park on the left.  Bahia Honda.  If the sea is calm and the sun is out, the beach there is postcard perfect.  Crossing 7-mile bridge is symbolic of letting go.  Changes in latitude, changes in attitude...

-- Twenty-five or so years later, I am re-reading The Magic Mountain by Thomas Mann.  The first time around I thought it had so many unintended parallels with the AIDS crisis, which was then unfolding to great drama in the U.S.  Now the book is harder for me to categorize.  A novel of ideas / allegory?  What some have amusingly called sick-lit?  I'm enjoying it.  It's Downton Abbey in Davos.

-- I just finished The Edwardians by Vita Sackville-West.  I was unimpressed.

The Varsity is a broad-shouldered American stereotype:  enormous, shouty and full of fried goodies.  Stack 'em high and sell 'em cheap.  What'll ya have?  I still find it endearing, though.  People from all over the world eating the ultimate peasant food in a very friendly, communal setting. The Frosted Orange and onion rings are worth the trip.

This was my first visit to HD1, which is much closer to my house.  The menu was fantastic, varied and unusual.  My hot dog, shown below, was the 'classic'.  Outstanding.

+  On Friday, eight of us will see A Christmas Carol.  We saw it last year and it was exceptional.  I suppose it's the counterpart to the English panto, something I enjoyed every year while living in Oxford.  The jokes at pantos are so well-worn, but always amusing, particularly if you are drunk.  The lead (always a cross-dressing, flamboyant actor) warms up the audience:

You sir, where are you from?

Abingdon.

Sorry?

Abingdon!

No, I'm saying I'm sorry for you...

+  We've recently purchased an extravagance:  a Mercedes SUV.  In just a few weeks we've cracked the windshield and dented the running board.  I suppose it's part of the family now.

+  I'm reading We by Yvegeny Zamyatin.  I just finished House of Silk by Horowitz.

+  I'm downloading this holiday gem right now:

-- The Fortnum and Mason order (see photo below) was delivered this morning

-- Purchased the Neiman Marcus annual Christmas ornament

-- Got tickets to: (i) the Nutcracker; (ii) Holiday Pops; and (iii) A Christmas Carol

-- Christmas cards are already on my dining room server, waiting to be addressed

-- Fruitcakes (2) and Christmas puddings (2) are in the pantry

-- Next week:  wine and cider purchases

Still, it hardly feels like Christmas here in Atlanta.  We've had what might be called light autumnal weather, but today it will be in the mid-70s.

-- It was definitely run-down and showed older movies.  It was the type of place you would go after dinner or a drink just to see a really fun movie, usually a wacky comedy.  Other places like the Phoenix showed the better films and had the better cinema experience.

-- The review says it can be chilly.  Ha!  I remember it being so cold in there in some nights that the operator would wheel in temporary space heaters.  It resembled a pub's patio.  People regularly chatted through movies.

-- One time my girlfriend (now wife) and I arrived a bit late.  She was finding a parking spot while I ran inside to get our tickets.  The projectionist said she would wait and start the film when my girlfriend arrived!

I really can't say I enjoyed the place, though.  I cannot imagine the UPP has any regular patrons.

I took up golf just about one year ago.  What have I gained despite an intimate knowledge of Lullwater creek?

-- Golf, as I suspected when I began, is a sport suitable for anyone with an equipment fetish.  I don't really need a Cleveland Niblick 49 loft chipper.  But I will buy one.  My golf balls are blaze orange Bridgestone E6s.  Shoes, hats, bags ... it's embarassing when I really think about it.

-- You can easily consume more calories playing golf than you burn if you drink beer, but I like the strength and flexibility it puts into my shoulders and core.

-- I always see red-tailed hawks on the golf course.  Being outdoors for so long and in a sport so dependent on the weather and natural features (trees, grass, sand, hills) is probably unique to golf.  The most fundamental aspects of our universe -- gravity, time, distance, speed -- are also at work in the game.  When played well, the game of golf has a remarkable fluidity and natural feel to it.

-- My dad says golf is simple:  'Hit the ball.  Find it.  Hit it again.'  Finding it is often the hardest part!

-- Golf adds a new dimenstion to vacations.  Play with your family.  Stay a bit active instead of being lazy on the beach all day.  See where the professionals have played.  It's also true that golf courses themselves are works of art. 

-- Many people say golf teaches you lessons that can transfer more generally to your life.  I suppose that's true, especially because you have so much time to reflect on a typical golf outing.  Some lessons that spring to mind: (i) only look forward - forget the past; (ii) repair what you have damaged; (iii) the shortest, most simple shot is as important as the longest or most complex shot; (iv) play your game - be unorthodox - have fun most of all; and (v) remove your hat and shake hands with your partner when you finish.