. . . I still couldn’t live in Port Royal.

Last weekend, NancyTW and I scoped out a few attractions in the area to celebrate her birthday. We went to a couple of French restaurants that we had not tried before (with terrific postprandials,) and you might have read the previous post about Naples Botanical Gardens. On Saturday afternoon, we did something a little different.

If the written word could convey a Cockney accent, you would be reading the following:

“I’m celebrity interviewer Robin Leach!”

But it can’t, so you’ll have to imagine it for yourself.

No, I’m not on the French Riviera, the slopes of Aspen, or on a beachfront in Malibu. I’m really just a chip shot from home, less than a half hour drive, at a little section of Florida known as Port Royal. Now, I don’t have the ‘pull’ of a “Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous” host, so I can’t offer any interior shots of exotic Ghibli granite countertops or mirror-smooth, hand-rubbed, Southeast Asian camphorwood sideboards. But I’ll do what I can for you.

There are a few ways to get a glimpse of the incredible estate-sized homes in Port Royal. One is to become a cable guy. Another is to take a leisurely, two-hour sail on Naples Bay and the Gulf of Mexico aboard the 53 foot catamaran operated by the good folks at Sweet Liberty, a sailing charter outfit that caters to your every mansion-gawking need. Of course, we could have pulled ten or fifteen million crispies out of our pocket and bought one of these castles, but I know you will agree that NancyTW and I demonstrated uncommon impulse control by opting instead for the $31 afternoon cruise.

Our captain for the day was Lenny, and he kept us informed as to bits of data connected to many of the not-so-humble abodes that we sailed past on our way to the Gulf. He told us that only about 15 percent of these jaw-dropping mini-palaces are occupied for more than a couple of months every year. I compared that statistic to the “cottages” along Newport’s Bellevue Avenue, where turn of the century tycoons with names like Astor and Vanderbilt spent about the same amount of time in lavish mansions like The Breakers, Marble House, Rosecliff, and The Elms. If the folks of Port Royal find homes like this one to be unworthy of more than a couple of months of their time, then I’d really like to know what their other, more preferable digs look like.

If you’ve ever peeked at one of those weighty, “Architectural Digestion” type magazines in your doctor’s office, or flipped curiously through a copy of the “Robb Report” at a news stand, this is where they find the homes to fill the glossy pages of those publications. Nearly every one of these places is equipped with facilities to not only dock the family yacht, but to actually winch it out of the water for a proper drying. This one includes a yacht “port.”

All of the homes have swimming pools, many of which are the “infinity” type, where the edge of the pool is never visible from a perspective inside it. Water cascades continuously over the sides and is caught in a basin system for recirculation.

In a number of instances, “previously gawked-at” homes have been bought for several million dollars, torn down, and replaced with fresh structures that meet the needs of the new owners more precisely. The yearly maintenance tabs for some of these homes most likely exceeds the entire nut we’re paying for the roof over our own heads. And I wonder if insurance is even available for such magnificent buildings located right on the Gulf, directly in the line of fire of any old hurricane that swings into town.

Now, I know I said that I couldn’t take you inside, but I did say that I would do what I can. So get ready for a closer look at the cute little campsite in the picture below.

It’s not Brad and Angelina’s $70 million pad in the south of France, but it is a respectable 11,541 square feet of luxurious amenities like travertine marble floors, handcrafted symmetrical stairways, and incredible water views peering out across 273 feet of bay frontage. With seven full and one half bathrooms, you could entertain the Boston Celtics starters, Coach Doc Rivers, a ball boy, and still never have to wait in line for a terlet. There are no fewer than six bedrooms, two of which are part of a guest suite with its own kitchen, living area, and secluded entrance.

The asking? $14.89 million. But with nothing moving these days, I bet you could call it yours for thirteen-five.

No one gives you more for your deflated drooling dollar than GDAT!!. Now, switch on that Cockney accent one more time:

So long for now, hoping you sail away with champagne wishes, and caviar dreams! (And decent sugars.)

Ta Ta!

This is a Sun Conure, a friendly, colorful species from South America. It will climb onto your shoulder, help untie your shoe, and even pick your wallet when you aren’t looking. It gets its name from the Sun (because it is so bright and colorful,) and Conure (the Brazilian word meaning “chew a medical ID bracelet.”) They survive on a diet of seeds, nuts, and diabetics’ fingertips.

NancyTW’s birthday fell on Memorial Day, so we celebrated by visiting a number of interesting local places over the weekend. The birdie lives at the Naples Botanical Gardens, which is about to undergo an enormous, multi-year expansion that will transform the present site into 160 acres of tropical gardens and educational facilities for the public to enjoy.

Have you ever heard of a Blue Poison Dart Frog? They are beautiful creatures that carry enough venom to kill eight human beings. They have been used in Columbia to create lethal poison blow-gun darts (yet another reason you won’t find us in Bogotá.) In the wild, the frogs eat particular insects that provide them the toxins they need for making their poison. Click here for a better look.

I had never heard of a Wart Fern until this one came along. They’re from Australia and Asia.

And then there was this little guy, pitching insurance without saying an accented word.

It was hot out, but my sugars behaved pretty well for the hours we spent strolling through the many gardens, courtyards, and display rooms. I am slowly becoming more confident (after only 25+ years) that I don’t really need to carry the equivalent of a half gallon of OJ everywhere I go. I got by with a couple of Capri Suns and my usual glucose gel tubes in a fanny pack, without having to use either form of supplemental sugar before leaving.

Next post, we’ll go into the hood for a look at the squalid shanties that dot the shorelines of Port Royal.

This Memorial Day weekend, I’d like to share a few pictures that always help me remember the many good and great men and women who have given their lives in service to our country and the endless fight for freedom.

Standing high above the Union Cemetery on the Commons of my home town is a bronze statue of Henry Tillinghast Sisson, Colonel of the Fifth Rhode Island Artillery Regiment, and subsequent Lieutenant Governor of the state. A plaque on the base of the marker describes Sisson’s laudable contributions that saved a pair of regiments from Massachusetts during the Civil War. When the statue was dedicated in 1917, many speakers came forth, including Massachusetts Lieutenant Governor Calvin Coolidge, who I am led to believe enjoyed the local fish chowder, and afterward left behind the crust of his pumpkin pie.

The World War I Memorial on the mall in Washington was built to commemorate the 26,000 local men who served during the Great War. The names of 499 people from the D.C. area who were killed in the war are inscribed at the base of the structure.

The WWII Memorial rests between the Washington Monument and the Lincoln Memorial, honoring more than 400,000 people who gave their lives fighting. A few years ago, I met a WWII veteran well into his eighties. When I thanked him for his service, he responded with modesty. Shrugging his shoulders and putting on a hint of a grin, he said quietly, “Jeff, it wasn’t as if we had a choice.”

The Korean War Memorial includes nineteen statues of men on patrol, crafted in stainless steel, and a wall of laser-etched photos from that conflict. The twenty-four hundred images of support personnel and equipment look out at the adjacent patrol.

Each name on the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, D.C. is associated with a symbol. The symbols are small diamonds and plus signs (non-religious crosses.) According to the Vietnam Veterans Memorial website, the diamond is indicative of a confirmed death and a plus sign is used to show that a person is unaccounted for.

If a person is confirmed dead after having been missing, the plus sign in the black granite is reworked into a diamond shape. In the event that a missing person returns alive, the plus sign will be inscribed inside a circle, which is a symbol of life. There are presently no circles on the memorial.

About 150 feet away, three bronze soldiers are aligned to be looking directly at the spot where the walls of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial converge.

People say that every picture tells a story. With that in mind I want to share this photo from a quiet walk through Arlington National Cemetery.

Finally, the Tomb of the Unknowns, which has been guarded continuously by a Sentinel for every second of every minute since 1937.

The inscription reads, "Here rests in honored glory an American soldier known but to God.”  Please click the photo for a better look.

Here's wishing everyone a safe and happy Memorial Day weekend.

Ok, thrill seekers.

Here’s a news clip from the Southern Highlands near Bowral, Australia, where spelunker, and fellow diabetic, Geoff McDonnell got a little too “into” his hobby, and spent 51 hours “down under.”

Do not try this at home.

In other news, I’m pleased as punch to say that my sister, NancyTS, has received Honorable Mention, Best Illustrated Children’s Book, at the Northern California Publishers & Authors Awards for 2007. Her first published book, Play Hopscotch on Saturn’s Rings, encourages children to wonder and imagine about places and things, and to find and explore the science in them.

With text in both English and Spanish, the book’s pages are filled with original artwork and illustrations that stimulate young imaginations into the adventures of learning.

NancyTS’s heart has always been in the right place, and she remembers my 1982 diagnosis quite well. It was she who drove this skeleton-thin brother to the hospital to begin patching the newfound hole in my broken physiology. And true to form, she is setting aside a donation totaling ten percent of the proceeds from each book for the Diabetes Research Institute in order to help speed up the search for a cure.

Nancy is more than happy to sign copies with personal inscriptions for all children and to respond to any questions or comments concerning the book.  Everyone is welcome to reach her by e-mail at njhcurry@hotmail.com.  Please put "Children's book info" in your subject line.

I have no particular diabetes issues to review today, and there haven’t been any new whack-job herbal cures this week, so let’s look at something else.

Just before 8:00am on May 20^th, 1927, Charles A. “Lucky” Lindbergh left New York’s Roosevelt Field on Long Island bound for Paris, France.

Looking at a map of the Northeast states recently, I thought for a moment about the possibility that, a short time after taking off, Lindbergh may well have flown directly over my home town of Little Compton, Rhode Island. Growing up, I spent plenty of time outdoors, and I always took notice of airplanes overhead, wondering where they were coming from, going to, and who might be aboard those big, shiny birds.

I imagined the skies were less crowded in 1927, and that any of the numerous farmers working their fields in my small seaside town would certainly have noticed Lindbergh’s fuel laden craft on that Friday morning, possibly unaware of the historic journey that was just beginning.

Last year, I shot these photos of some Lindbergh-related items at the Missouri History Museum in the Emerson Electric Center in St. Louis. They include a hand-written note acknowledging payment in full for a Curtiss airplane (not the plane that crossed the pond,) a plaque from the Spirit of St. Louis Association commemorating the flight, and a purchase order to Ryan Airlines, Inc. of San Diego, California, for “One Special” Ryan Monoplane in exchange for a total of $10,580.00.

At the time of Lindbergh’s first non-stop, solo transatlantic flight, insulin dependent diabetics were barely five years into the successful treatment of their condition. Depression eras notwithstanding, it must have been an exciting time to witness such innovative and technological advances.

Thanks to my brother for his recent aerial picture of Little Compton, looking southward all the way to Sakonnet Point and the old West Island. The exclusive West Island Club, burnt to ashes and virtually forgotten long before I took my first breath, was where men such as Presidents Chester Arthur, James Garfield, Rutherford Hayes, and Grover Cleveland, jeweler Charles Louis Tiffany, and other notable captains of industry with names like Vanderbilt, Lorillard, and J.P. Morgan gathered in springtime for what was said to be the best striper fishing on the east coast.

The photo would have been Lindbergh’s view as he flew east/northeastward, looking south over his right shoulder.

Once you've been tagged, you write a post with 10 weird, random facts, habits or goals about yourself. At the end, choose 6 new victims to be tagged, list their names, and why you tagged them. Don't forget to leave them a comment saying ('You're It!') and to go read your blog. You cannot tag the person that tagged you (Ashley, in my case,) so, let me know when you are done so that I can go read your blog answers. Here are my ten:

1. My real name is Analysis Paralysis. I take so much time deciding on stupid things that I never get to the important ones.

2. My first vehicle was a 1978 Ford van. I was at the dealership to take delivery (sign the papers, shake the hands, assume the debt, etc.) between noon and 1pm on May 6 of that year. So I always know where I was at 12:34 5-6-78 -- Manchester Ford on Metacom Avenue in Bristol, RI. Today there are condos on that memorable and historic turf. I customized the van from top to bottom, inside and out, and drove it for about 70,000 miles before adding a more practical car to my fleet. The van just celebrated its 30^th birthday, and now I, the ultimate pack rat, am about finished with it. It’s for sale. Call BR-549 or use the ‘Contact me’ link. New brakes, new fuel line, no rust, stainless steel exhaust components, always garaged, yada, yada, yada.

3. I eat rice cakes. The caramel ones. Swathered with peanut butter. Is that wrong?

4. My reading preferences are biographies. Paperback, or hardcover. It doesn’t matter.

5. Have you ever been somewhere that prohibits photography? I like to see how many shots I can take (holding the Nikon at about belt-level, shooting blind) before someone catches on. I disable the flash for stealth. Got some awesome pics at a “Bodies” exhibit in Tampa, but my hard drive died and took them all with it to Cyber hell. That’ll learn me. Here’s the last “illegal” picture I took.

It’s the lid from the picnic basket in The Wizard of Oz. It’s for sale. Price is $13,500. If you buy through me add fifteen percent plus insurance. But for that kind of loot you can own a low mileage custom van, gas it up, drive to Disney yourself, and still have plenty leftover for rice cakes. There are autographs of the actors on it (the basket lid, not the van, but I’ll gladly personalize the Ford with a pleasant inscription for the happy buyer.)

6. I don’t back up my data.

7. If you want to know what day it is, I can tell you with certainty that it’s one that ends in ‘y.’ Can’t be much more specific than that usually. If you need a dumb or useless fact, however, pull up a chair and let’s talk. Here’s a freebie: The only time that the Triple Crown was won by both a horse and a baseball player in the same year was 1937. Joe Medwick and War Admiral. Medwick was the ball player because I’m 99% sure anything named War Admiral had to be a horse. Oh, and I can also tell you how a baseball player could pull off an unassisted triple play without ever touching the baseball. Can you name the four U.S. presidents whose last names end in ‘e’ (without resorting to Google?) This post will self destruct in five seconds.

8. Some people call me Maurice.

9. I am so cheap that I still have First Communion money. I am so disorganized that I can’t remember where I put it.

10. I did not suck my thumb as a toddler. I waited until high school. No, really, I was not a thumb sucker, and I can prove it.

Because #2 was old news, you get a bonus. Buy the van, I’ll toss in this shirt, free. I told you. I’m a pack rat.

Ok, taggin’ time. Jen, Drea, Laura, Jess, Amalas, and Mandy.  Because, because, because, because, becaaauuuuuse.

You know me. When the cure comes around, I’ll be on it like flies on, well, I’ll just be on it. Until then, I will continue to inform you wonderful readers about the cutting edge research and development going on all over the world on our behalf.

Let me introduce you to eBay seller “yem-rab,” who is offering a “Health Aid” herbal mixture from Yemen that purportedly will “cure diabetes once and for all.” Yem-rab says that he has actually “met diabetic patients . . . who took this ‘medication’ and confessed that they truly got cured."  "They even showed me their Laboratory results,” Yem-rab says. 

I could not bring myself to steal Yem-rab’s product photo, but it looks a lot like this.

The miracle herb mixture comes in two forms, green fresh, and dried. The fresh version, according to Yem-rab, will cure you lickety-split in a lightning fast 30 days, but we can’t get any of it here in the States because only the dried variety is able to withstand the rigors of shipping. Something about spoilage. Darned the luck.

But we soldier on. The dried supply takes about 42 days to work -- tolerable. Yem-rab says “it is preferable to use it 40 consecutive days and stop the day 41 then use the last dos (sic) on day 42. It is expected that after 40 days of usage, a mild diarrhea occurs however seizes (sic) after day 44.”

There are treatments for diarrhea on eBay, but don’t expect me to do your dirty work. Find them yourself.

I might add here that Yem-rab’s big-selling product on eBay is honey. So you could make a case that he’s trying to raise your sugar in order to lower it later.

As I write this, only nine 450-gram bags are available, and Yem-rab says he can’t offer any discount off the $99 ‘Buy It Now’ price because “the price is as I buy it from the vendor,” and he does “not want any profit from the item.” What a guy. I forked over another insulin co-pay just last week.

I could kick myself.