My Florida Routine

4:00 a.m.: I get up a half hour before my alarm goes off. I put on my robe and slippers, fire up the coffee maker [decaf--it's better for my blood pressure, doctor says], and turn on the evangelical network on TV.

6:00 a.m.: I wait for them to unlock the doors at Denny's. Tuesday is Senior Day and I can save 15% on my Grand Slam. Sunny side up, please. Bacon. Wheat toast. I bring my own Metamucil.

7:30 a.m.: First foursome on the fairway--myself, Gino, Frank, and Redd. We get in a quick nine, as I don't have the stamina I used to. Just ask my wife, hehheh.

HACK! I have trouble laughing these days, you know. All those Pall Malls during the War.

10:15 a.m.: Lunch at the Country Club--Pastrami on Rye. My doctor says I should stay away from the stuff, but I've got to live a little, eh?

11:30 a.m.: Home again. Catch the last half of Price Is Right. I hope and pray for Plinko! It never happens.

11:42 a.m.: Slumber to visions of myself standing atop the multi-color platform with plastic pucks in my hand. From my perch, I look down the shimmering tops of Barker's Beauties. PlinkPlinkPlink-PlinkPlink-Plink Each chip lands in the tray labeled $10,000.

11:57 a.m.: I wake, covered in drool. My downbelows are throbbing. Where's my damn wife? Sheila! She's putting the roast in the oven. Roast again? Seems like the fifth time this week!

12:03 p.m.: Damned local news is on again. Nothing but a bunch of crazies out there, you know? I flip on the golf network and fall back asleep.

3:45 p.m.: My wife rouses me from sleep with a wooden spatula. I thought you was dead, she yells. This happens every day. Nothing but a bunch of crazies. I love her to death, though.

4:00 p.m.: Dinner is served--pot roast and scalloped potatoes. My favorite. Fifth time this week, I swear.

4:45 p.m.: While eating my sugar-free vanilla ice cream, I see this doofy kid riding past on his bike. He's got on some queer looking satchel. Sonofabitch is probably taking a shortcut to the Post Office. Problem is with kids these days, always taking shortcuts. Doesn't he know this is a gated community? I rent this trailer from September until April so I don't have to deal with these hippies. Third day in a row I've seen him cutting through here. Next time, mark my words, I'm gonna say something. Kids these days. Bunch of crazies.