First Night In Florida

Aside from the food and the music, last night was a bust. I had drinks at my hotel with an old WSB mate. He's retired to the Keys - has his own little charter fishing set-up. Sounds nice, if not a little dull. He was in town on business and had a little time to waste. We relived our first year of training together over a few glasses of scotch. Our conversation made me feel old. I'm not old.

After that I headed over to Auturo Sandoval's Jazz Club and listened to Roberto Perera. I met Auturo years ago when I was sneaking around Cuba on some bureau assignment. Unbelievable trumpet player. He had played a show himself earlier in the week and I figured that if Holly was in town she would catch it. Turns out I was right. When I showed him a picture, Auturo remembered the lovely little brunette at a table down front. She had been with a group of people, but he didn't think she was attached to anyone in particular. Good news for me. The old man said if he'd known who she was, he'd have flirted a little more. I drank too much and we ended up reminicing about my time in Cuba. It's funny that my wild misspent youth isn't what I'm missing most these days.