Shell Shocked: Watch out, people, we’re coming back
Could be!
Who knows?
There’s something due any day;
I will know right away,
Soon as it shows.
It may come cannonballing down through the sky,
Gleam in its eye,
Bright as a rose!
Steven Sondheim expressed it perfectly. What this means is that I will be back to Sanibel in a couple of weeks. No, I won’t be playing the role of the Exterminator. There are no future leaders I’ve been assigned to protect at all costs.
No, I’m not coming back to run for the Sanibel City Council, chairman of the Island Water Association, executive director of the Sanibel & Captiva Islands Chamber of Commerce or the top chef at Traders.
No, I’m not coming back to capture alligators, tangle with red tide or demonstrate against the need for traffic lights.
No, I’m not coming back to star in a Herb Strauss Theater farce, perform at BIG ARTS or play the flute at a chamber group concert.
No, I’m not coming back to win the Dunes golf tournament, the Beachview men’s tennis doubles championship, catch the world’s largest tarpon or build an award-winning sand castle.
I’m coming back because I miss Sanibel and need my winter fix. I’m coming back because I miss the walk on the beach, the workout at Meta’s Pilates studio, the ahi tuna at Traders and the small plates at Sweet Melissa’s. I miss the brisk winter mornings which are never as cold as New Jersey in March and the setting sun on the beach which can’t be seen over the office towers in mid-town Manhattan.
I’m coming back because I can wear shorts all day and not ski jackets. Or read a book outdoors and not shovel snow. I’m coming back because Sanibel is my home away from home. Watch out, people. I’ll be there soon and there’s no telling where my pent up energy will take me.
I plan to lose my northern impatience, my game face and my ties. I plan to see dear friends, make restaurant reservations, take golf lessons and get back to exercising regularly. I plan to be a new man by the time I leave for the north in May. Watch out, people. I’m on my way.
Art Stevens is a long-time columnist for the Islander. His tongue-in-cheek humor is always offered with a smile.