Goodland Florida

They describe themselves as "a drinking community with a fishing problem". About 30 minutes from Naples, down Route 92, through the Everglades, across the bridge onto Marco Island... and take a left.

Connie's good friend Donna picked a random restaurant off the Internet (because she liked the name Goodland.... good, good, good, good good...) and had them call to inform us we had been gifted with a night on the town... in Goodland. The young woman who called introduced herself as Jenny and said "Is this Gdog?" Long pause... tentative "yes...?". She said "What's crankin', Gdog! When are you coming for dinner?" I said, ".... talk to Connie...".

We showed up mid-afternoon and poked around. Down on the docks..." Sorry dahlin, no fish today. The boats are still out. Got stone crab though.." Through the trailer park " Drop Anchor". A stop by the local U.S. Post Office... now that was unique. All the inside cinder block walls were covered with colorful paintings by local artists and the Post Mistress, Judy, spoke with us at length about the town and the people. It was 4:00 and she was locking up for the day as we left to continue exploring among the narrow back streets and canals around town. We were just turning around on a dead end road when we saw her driving toward us waving out her window. She pulled up next to us and parked in the middle of the street to say, "I forgot to tell you you've GOT to stop by 'Stan's" for happy hour with the locals...". 45 fascinating minutes later after discussing her story (she is a spiritual teacher AND a US Postal employee...) and ours, we went to Stan's for a pitcher of Yuengling ($5) before dinner at the "Little Bar" next door. Huge bowls of free shrimp on ice...

Jenny seated us on the sun porch in this eclectic, historic, backwater establishment (http://www.littlebarrestaurant.com/ . Stone crab, tuna, snapper, Irish coffee...delicious.

Back to Stan's after dinner with the dogs to listen to the duo "Hot Damn"... from Lewiston, Maine. Norm and Deb Pelletier made us feel right at home and dedicated us with the Dick Curless song "A Tombstone Every Mile" about the Haynesville Woods in Maine. We sat next to "Bear" and Bud Allen, a lobsterman from Bailey's Island, Maine. After 5 minutes of slurred conversation we determined we were likely related (Great Gram Willard was a Bailey's/Orr's Islander) and left it at that. He and Bear , along with their wives(?) had departed Toronto 3,500 miles ago in their 60' fishing/cruising trawler on their way to Turks and Caicos and had stopped by to listen to the group....

Thanks so much for a delightful, extraordinary, unique, totally enjoyable evening, Donna and Peter. Wish you had been here to enjoy it with us...