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Thanks To Community, Holy Ground Shelter Keeps Doors Open

Posted Jun 9, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Jun 9, 2009 at 04:15 PM

Everyday People can become homeless, too.

Go to any homeless shelter in the country, and you’ll hear stories of woe told by people who used to have jobs and families, support systems that kept them clothed and fed, and a sense of purpose in their lives.

The stories aren’t always true, of course, but the fact is that anyone can fall on hard times, and sometimes (rarely, perhaps) thanks to circumstances beyond their control.

Last week, Lisa Barabas-Henry, who has run the Holy Ground Homeless Shelter on Denton Avenue in Hudson for almost 20 years, found herself in a desperate position.

A couple of days after being released from the hospital (she has a heart condition and had pneumonia) the company that owns the Holy Ground property had placed an eviction notice on the front door. The bottom line was simple enough to understand: pay two months’ rent (about $7,900) by Tuesday, June 9, or the doors would close. Barabas-Henry, who also recently buried her eldest son, didn’t know where to turn. Neither did the nearly 70 people, including 16 children ages 2 to 14, who called Holy Ground home. The shelter also serves between 33,000 and 40,000 meals a year. (That’s Lisa in the picture to the left)

Happily, the community turned to her.

Local residents and businesses, many of them feeling the same economic pinch, flooded the shelter with money, food, furniture and other donations.

This morning, Ted Davis of Odessa, who owns K&J Consulting Services, a global computer network infrastructure company in Tampa, was even inspired to give the shelter a check for $6,000; by then, Holy Ground had already collected enough money to keep the doors open.

Davis didn’t mind. Besides, the shelter can still use all the money and donations it can get.

“We’re blessed, and I just wanted to give back,” he said. “The main thing [that motivated me] was all the things [Barabas-Henry] has done for so many families. You close that place and [all those] people are homeless; it really got to me. It was so moving, even going there today. I just didn’t want to see that place closed.” That’s good news, and not just for the area’s homeless.

Holy Ground is known for giving away turkeys at Thanksgiving and toys at Christmas. Barabas-Henry also has lobbied for homeless rights. The shelter’s thrift store sells all manner of items, and this morning Denton Avenue was lined with newly donated couches and other items.

Still reeling from the last week’s emotional roller coaster and drained by the pneumonia that still filled one lung, Barabas-Henry cried tears of relief this morning.

“This is unbelievable; it’s so hard to comprehend. Businesses, residents, just the average person” donated, she said. “One person on unemployment came in to give $5. How do you take their $5?”

Her mother, Jean Timmons, the shelter’s office manager, said the mood among Holy Ground residents had gone from devastated to elated in a matter of days.

“People were worried, and that’s a lot of people,” she said. “Where were they going to go? We have a hospice patient here with three months [to live]. Where was he going to go?

“You can’t just put him on the street.”

For information about Holy Ground, call the shelter at (727) 863-9123.

 

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Pancho’s Villa Packs ‘Em In

Posted Jun 8, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Jun 8, 2009 at 03:36 PM

I probably should have posted this Friday, but considering it took me almost seven years to find my way inside Pancho’s Villa Mexican restaurant, a few days is nothing.

For years, I’ve heard one northeast Pasco County resident after another rave about the great food and atmosphere at Pancho’s, located in quiet downtown San Antonio, next to the venerable San Ann Market.

With two birthdays in the office in need of celebration last week, the work crowd elected to investigate Pancho’s for a lunchtime gathering.

I’m glad we did. Happily, everyone arrived around noon, just before a line started to form outside the door. It was soon clear that the praise I’d heard wasn’t unfounded. Before lunch arrived, our hungry crowd devoured baskets of chips, and bowls of Pancho’s authentic hot and mild sauces. I kept it simple with Pancho’s Nacho’s, a steaming-hot platter of chips, cheese, beef and an unholy number of jalapenos. When they asked if I wanted jalapenos, I said, “Yeah, but just a few.”

They must’ve thought I meant a few hundred.

Anyway, the number of peppers on my plate was indicative of the restaurant’s apparent practice of offering more than expected. The others had carnitas (pork cooked with cirtrus, piled fajita-style into a tortilla shell), ground beef and chicken chimichangas, chopped-beef gorditas and chicken salad.

By the time I was finished (and I did finish all 27 pounds of cholesterol), my gut was as distended as one of those kids in the old Sally Struthers commercials. Except my stomach was swelling with food, not inexplicably expanding over the lack of it.

Within hours, I was belching the chorus of “Low Rider.” (You want video proof?)

Given Pancho’s somewhat intimate confines, the decibel level made it a little hard to follow the discussion at our table, but by the time a band of nearby women left, I could have offered each of them rational advice regarding the myriad topics I overheard them discussing.

Throughout the meal, our hard-working waitress kept our glasses full and our orders straight. And it’s not like we were her only customers. The restaurant had more traffic than rush hour on nearby State Road 52, and the waitresses seemed to burn as many calories as they served.

Even if the food had been bad and over-priced, I might have simply enjoyed soaking in the celebrated taqueria’s quaint, traditional, bustling atmosphere.

In short, I can’t wait for a reason to go back. About any reason will do.

And now when people ask if I’ve eaten at Pancho’s, they won’t look at me like there’s something in my nose when I answer.

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Shooting Star

Posted Jun 5, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Jun 5, 2009 at 04:00 PM

Put a golf ball atop a fence 50 yards away and I would probably just see a white blob (if that) – even with my glasses on.
Travis Rubio, 17, could not only see the ball clearly, he could blast a hole through the center of it with a bullet fired from a flint-lock muzzleloader rifle. If you’re anything like me – can’t tell a shotgun from an Uzi – that might not mean much.
But what isn’t fun about learning?

A muzzleloader was a firearm used in the Civil War, among other long-ago skirmishes, and fires one ball-shaped bullet at a time. Given the 19th-century technology, bullets fired from such a weapon don’t travel as fast as ammo fired from more modern guns, which makes it more difficult to hit a target. They’re also more difficult to load. “You basically have to build your own bullet,” said Travis, a senior at Pasco High School. “You just have to get the rhythm down: powder, patch, then ball. That’s the order it goes into the barrel.” He is so proficient at the process, and such a good shot, that he has qualified for the National 4-H Shooting Sports Invitational in Grand Island, Neb.; the event is June 24 to 28. He earned a spot in the tournament by recently winning a Florida competition in Levy County. During the nationals, he will shoot at a variety of small metal targets shaped like rams, hogs and bears, as well as a bull’s eye, from as close as 25 yards to as far as 100 yards away. The event is meant to test a shooter’s accuracy more so than the speed at which he or she can fire.

However, scopes are not allowed on the 50-caliber muzzleloader rifles and a bullet’s trajectory can be altered by wind. At a competition in South Dakota a couple years ago, Travis said, the air was thinner, making the bullets travel faster and rise in flight. A couple of days a week, he practices on the land of neighbor Manuel Martinez, who lives near the family off Bellamy Brothers Boulevard, north of State Road 52. He was taught to shoot by father, Jose Rubio, and said he has been firing guns practically since he could walk. He also has competed in archery tournaments. Through the years, Travis has collected a roomful of trophies, said his mother, Brenda Rubio. She is currently trying to find sponsors to help fund the trip to Nebraska. Ammunition alone could cost as much as $1,000. “We’re going to make up T-shirts with the sponsors’ names,” she said. Thanks to his past success, Travis already has qualified for next year’s 4-H national shotgun competition. Someday, he said, he could be shooting targets for a living in tournaments around the country. Judging by the appearance of the golf ball he nailed from 50 yards, that could be a viable career option. “I didn’t know what would happen” if the bullet hit it, Travis said of the golf ball, which he shot a few weeks ago. The bullet didn’t go all the way through the ball, but left a hole in it down to the center. “It just shot straight up in the air, about 20 feet,” he said. For information about sponsoring Travis Rubio’s trip to the National 4-H Shooting Sports Invitational in Grand Island, Neb., call (352) 588-0490.

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A Massive Beehive, Free Sushi And A Eulogy For Uncle Keith

Posted May 28, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated May 28, 2009 at 05:14 PM

Please excuse the delay in updates, but time in Everyday Peopleville has been moving in Super Slo-Mo recently.
It’s not that there hasn’t been anything to report, it’s just that the staff here at Everyday People has been moved to a new office with a padlocked refrigerator(?) while being simultaneously stricken by an unholy, turmoil-induced fatigue.

Thus, we are tardy in marveling at the massive beehive recently destroyed at the Circle BB Ranch in Odessa, and the precision with which the mammoth, mushroom-shaped hive was demolished by bee battler Jonathan Simkins of All Florida Bee Removal. The roughly 12-foot-long yellow jacket nest, which hummed like a small generator, was discovered by Shannon Behnke, whose family owns the 535-acre ranch, and his girlfriend, Theresa Gray. On Tuesday, Behnke and Gray donned white suits, mesh helmets and veiled masks, and helped Simkins spray the nest with a soapy solution that killed the yellow jackets on contact. In the massacre, Behnke got stung through the helmet by one yellow jacket, but even as the bump raised on his scalp, he expressed gratitude to Simkins and excitement over the experience. “Now I can continue having fun with my hunting and camping, and we can let the cows back in this field,” he said.

A week earlier, we were dispatched to Wiregrass High School, where students got to eat free sushi for lunch one day. Provided by Schwan’s Food Service, the company with the yellow trucks, the sushi was touted as a healthy alternative to the typical school cafeteria fare. We’re sure it is. It probably shouldn’t have been surprising that many of the kids who attend Wiregrass, located near Meadow Pointe and The Shops at Wiregrass, were already well-versed in the way of sushi and could favorably compare Schwan’s offerings with the rice-wrapped fish found at local eateries and grocery stores. “It was really good. I was surprised,” said Monica Narin, 16, a junior. “I thought it would be generic-tasting, but it wasn’t.” Yeah, the fried burritos and “pizza” – washed down with chocolate or vanilla milkshakes – at our high school didn’t taste generic, either. Meanwhile, it seems as if perpetual character Mark “Tiger” Edmonds has been busy staying retired.

Pasco County’s answer to Willie Nelson, Bob Dylan and George Carlin, the former English professor at Saint Leo University fishes, plays Scrabble, listens to outlaw country music, smokes, spends time with Juanita the Tall Girl, feeds his dogs, horse and mule, continues writing his “Curmudgeon Chronicles,” smokes, plays Scrabble, recalls tales from his childhood in Flint, Mich., where he recently traveled to bury his beloved uncle Keith, rides his BMW motorcycle, smokes, drinks coffee from a seemingly bottomless Thermos, awaits the publication of his next compilation of highway stories, stays in touch with old pals Bosco and Captain Zero, and smokes. And when one goes out, he lights another. However, losing his uncle, after his father Gail’s death last year, left Edmonds in somewhat of a funk. “He was my big brother, uncle and an extra dad,” Edmonds said. “All my life, I had my grandpa, dad and uncle Keith keeping my [butt] in line.” The most vicious fight he ever saw, Edmonds said, was between his father and uncle. “Dad’s face was busted open like you wouldn’t believe, and uncle Keith couldn’t straighten up for a couple days after that,” he said. “They went to a movie after they washed the blood off.”

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The Family That Farms Together

Posted May 15, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated May 15, 2009 at 03:12 PM

The Family That Farms Together
Acie Jenkins didn’t even try to suppress his enthusiasm.
As Steven Huggins, 14, and his father, Larry, showed him the collection of produce they have grown at their rural home north of Dade City, Jenkins, an assistant principal at Pasco Middle School, gestured excitedly with his hands and spoke with admiration.
An eighth-grader at Pasco Middle, Steven has paid particularly close attention in Richard Roberts’ agriculture class. While numerous students have been through Roberts’ classroom, Jenkins said he didn’t know of any other students who had reaped the knowledge and “taken it to this level.”

Then, not every 14-year-old knows what they want to do when they grow up; Steven wants to own his own ranch someday. “This is great,” Jenkins said of the appropriately named Steve’s Farm, the Huggins’ sales space in a corner of the Farmer’s Market at the Dade City Business Center. “This is how you learn to get started, working with people in the community and selling your stuff at a good price.” Inspired by Roberts’ teaching, Steven came to his father with the idea a few months ago. Now, the family’s front yard is home to a makeshift, 9-foot-tall greenhouse full of produce. Other plants are set on pallets around the front yard, so they get ample sun and plenty of water when it rains. It is a family operation in every sense. While Steven and father Larry do much of the growing, brother Matthew, 16, also gets his hands dirty and handles customer-service duties at the market. Steven’s brother, Joey, 24, helped build the greenhouse, using a discarded metal canopy frame, duct tape and twine, while his mother, Dewanna, helps make signs when she isn’t hauling plants in her van. The family lives near U.S. 301 and Gould Road north of Dade City. “The economy is so bad, we want to [sell] our stuff cheaper so people can buy food,” Steven said. “A guy came by [our house] on Mother’s Day. He had $3, and we gave him a Mother’s Day plant with a hanging basket. Normally, that would have been about $9, not counting the basket, but we want to [help] people.” Helping people also was Jim Guedry’s goal when he opened the farmer’s market in January. The chief executive officer of the business center, Guedry has a background in produce and said he wanted to establish a place where people could get quality produce for less money. The Hugginses are one of several regular vendors who peddle their goods in a covered, 42-by-50-foot structure. The farmer’s market, just north of Dade City, is open 8 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. seven days a week. “It took off like you can’t believe. I was shocked,” Guedry said of the farmer’s market. “The goal is to make it like a true farmer’s market like you see in Maine or St. Louis or Chicago. I just made a little policy that if people grow [their own produce] they can sell it here. “We’re trying to bring as many people to this end of town as we can. There’s a blueberry vendor coming in and a guy who sells palm trees. There’s been a lot of interest, probably five or 10 times more [business] than we expected.” The customer traffic certainly has been encouraging to the Hugginses, who grow tomatoes, squash, green beans, green peppers, bell peppers, banana peppers, jalapenos, okra, corn, cucumbers, egg plant, watermelon and cantaloupe, as well as cilantro, sweet basil, tarragon, oregano, sage and cotton. “These big beef steak tomatoes are selling more than anything,” said Larry Huggins, who worked for decades in the food industry. Larry Huggins, born in Tampa but raised on a farm near Douglasville, Ga., was obviously proud of Steven’s idea and his dedication to the operation. “You come up with ideas and get your hands dirty,” Larry Huggins said. “It’s a nice, family thing. The kids have so much input. The heart and work Steve puts into it is amazing.” Word of the family business is spreading through the rural community and people have begun driving straight to the house in search of produce. “We want to have it where people can just pull right in the driveway,” Larry Huggins said. “It’s already started happening. This past weekend we sold them right out of the yard. People just drive on up the road and pull in.” For information about the Huggins’ produce, call (352) 807-2743. The Dade City Business Center is at 15000 Citrus Country Drive on the east side of U.S. 301, north of Dade City.

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How To Live To 106, Or Not

Posted May 8, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated May 8, 2009 at 04:31 PM

I don’t want to live one day past 100.

And some days, I hope I never see 40. Or even 38.

Earlier today, though, I learned how one Native American woman from Tampa lived well beyond a century.

As he peddled drums, shakers, bows, spears, knives and other items at the 18th annual Withlacoochee Native American Indian Culture Mother’s Day Powwow, Arnie Garcia showed me a picture of his mother-in-law, Ruby Tiger Osceola, who died several years ago at 106.

When I asked him about the secret to her longevity, Garcia didn’t hesitate.

“Fish, deer and turtle,” he said.

I’ve seen a guy eat turtle on one of those survival shows on cable, but I’ve never actually had any, and I told him so.

“It’s pretty good,” Garcia said. “You can cut it open and make a soup with rice, or you can just roast it – just like a gar fish. You roast it like corn.”

I suppose I could.

But I won’t.

If that means I’ll die quicker, so be it.

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Rest Easy, John

Posted Apr 24, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Apr 24, 2009 at 01:41 PM

Paper, stone, bar stools: to most people, they are everyday objects used for practical purposes.
In John Martinez, they triggered artistic expression. Paper could be drawn or painted on, or cut into geometric shapes to form wildlife; grave markers could be used to make intricate, compelling stone rubbings; bar stools were as important as artistic vehicles as for human relaxation.

I got a chance to interview Martinez a couple of days before New Year’s. It was for the second story I would write on Martinez, a Wesley Chapel artist, who had worked as a magazine designer at Time, Inc. before retiring from HBO, where he was a design director in the promotions department. Martinez died this week at 86. His wife, M.J. Martinez, whom he met at HBO, said he contracted pneumonia shortly after our last interview. Details about funeral arrangements were not immediately available. I didn’t know John well, but enjoyed talking with him. Obviously gifted, he spoke carefully and humbly, described his artwork in sophisticated detail and possessed a quiet sense of humor as abstract as his art. The son of a Puerto Rican father and Gibraltarian mother, Martinez started young, first sketching the then-famous comic book character Abie Kabibble on a sheet of paper at age 4. At 11, the New York native produced a watercolor version of Thomas Gainsborough’s 1770 painting “The Blue Boy.” The walls of his Wesley Chapel home are filled with his work and shelves are topped by his bronze-painted sculptures, including a craggy rendering of a boxer and an American Indian with wind-blown hair. “You can’t pin me down,” he said in December. “I don’t want to be identified with one thing. It’s more fun to change mediums and attitudes.” Here’s part of our last interview:

 

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Enough With The Ray Romano; Or, A Taste Of Cuba—Right There On Gall Boulevard

Posted Apr 15, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Apr 15, 2009 at 01:34 PM

Here we go again.
A jaded reporter walks into an interview and talks to several people for 30 minutes. At the end, they all point at him and laugh.
“You know who you remind me of?” asks one of the subjects.

Before he can provide the answer he’s heard for nearly 10 years, the name is blurted: “Ray Romano.” “Yeah,” says another subject, then another. A wince is mistaken for a grin. Chuckling ensues, and another small group has bonded. In Everyday Peopleville, this happens at least several times a year, but sometimes multiple times a week. This time it was at Flaco’s Café on Gall Boulevard in Zephyrhills, where owners Felix and Becky Borges have infused a needed dose of authentic Cuban cuisine in an area otherwise known for buffet-style, country eateries and fast-food chains. The restaurant’s recipes come from Felix’s mother, Mercedes Borges, who moved to the United States from Cuba with husband Jose in the late 1960s.

In fact, Mercedes and Jose help oversee the operation, ensuring that the lechón asado (Cuban-style roasted pork), costilla de puerco (deep-fried pork chops) and traditional pressed Cuban sandwiches are as authentic as the food they were raised on. (That’s Becky on the left, Felix on the right, by the way) I’m no more a restaurant reviewer than a theater critic. But I can tell you that I was a return customer at Flaco’s long before I ever wrote about the place, and their palomilla steak sandwich is better than most fare you’ll find almost anywhere else – even after being refrigerated 24 hours, then microwaved. But really, the Ray Romano stuff needs to stop. I don’t look like him, and I don’t have a New York accent. Having only seen flashes of his TV show while flipping through the stations, I couldn’t say whether I act like his character or not. But the program is titled “Everybody Loves Raymond,” and the guy in the mirror isn’t exactly adorable, charming, endearing or even friendly. I’m a reporter. Hello?

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It’s All Over Now

Posted Apr 13, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Apr 13, 2009 at 05:20 PM

The staff here at Everyday People is officially back from vacation, a much-needed nine days of freedom that began with a rollicking party at the venerable Osceola Tavern in Dade City and ended long after the clock failed to alarm one Everyday Person to consciousness before 10:37 a.m. today.
The preceding days had been well-spent, as we took a pair of female Ohioans to observe the mermaids at Weeki Wachee Springs, the wildlife and native foliage at Lettuce Lake Park in Tampa and an array of Speedo-wearing Europeans on the beach at Honeymoon Island, off Dunedin.

Although the park itself was disappointing, our group got to see a bald eagle chased through the sky by an angry hawk as we disembarked in Weeki Wachee. That was fortunate, because cool temperatures and a moderate breeze made the park’s sandy beach feel like the wind-swept banks of Lake Erie – in October. And there was the famous mermaid show, a heart-warming rendition of, you guessed it, “The Little Mermaid.” If the mermaids seemed absurdly flexible – with well-toned muscles, welcoming expressions and the lung capacity of killer whales – the staff here at Everyday People didn’t notice. Nor did we observe any water moccasins at Lettuce Lake Park, where we once spied three cottonmouths from the safety of the boardwalk. We did, however, see two baby alligators and all manner of squawking, soaring, swooping waterfowl. And for once, the observation tower was open. But, as The Rolling Stones once put it: It’s all over now. The phone has been ringing. One lady didn’t get her paper. Another lady didn’t see her granddaughter’s picture in the paper. It’s ringing again. I bet it’ll go to voicemail.

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Everyday People Go On Vacation

Posted Apr 3, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Apr 3, 2009 at 03:08 PM

The staff here at Everyday People will be on vacation April 4 through 12, when we will be ogling the mermaids in Weeki Wachee, navigating the crowd at Busch Gardens and watching the waves at Caladesi Island with a pair of Ohioans, a pair of pre-pubescent scamps and a woman with a head harder than titanium.

Courage.

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Blogger Fails Journalism 101

Posted Apr 1, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Apr 1, 2009 at 03:49 PM

Everybody look at the fool. There he is, grinning like an idiot, at the top of this page.
One of the first things they teach you at newspaper school is to always have people spell out their names when you write them down. Otherwise, you’ll never know if a regular jackass named, say, Jeff, was born to people who never heard of a spelling they couldn’t over complicate.
So, here we are, 10 years into a newspaper career, and we’re still getting names wrong.
And we do it in blogs about retired English professors trained to watch for such mistakes.
Here then, are the correct spellings of the talented cast from “Fool For Love,” the recent Saint Leo University production based on a play by acclaimed actor Sam Shepard: Joe Pless played the booze-swilling, rifle-cleaning Eddie in performances Thursday and Saturday; Eddie’s lover and half-sister, May, was played by Emily Belvo on Wednesday and Friday.
The worrisome part of all this is that Mark “Tiger” Edmonds, the retired professor and “old, dead guy” in the play, was called so he could read the spellings directly from the playbill. He was out fishing, so The Tall Girl, his betrothed, read them off instead.
And some of the names were gone over more than once.
The Tall Girl doesn’t have a speech impediment, so somebody must need a Q-Tip.
Or a brain scan.

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Too Much Like Work?

Posted Mar 31, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Mar 31, 2009 at 03:39 PM

Levon Helm would have been impressed.
If you don’t know who that is, stop reading now.
And don’t ever call for any reason.
As a founding member of The Band, Helm is a Rock N’ Roll Hall of Famer, but he also has numerous acting credits, often portraying gritty, time-hardened men—either as a blind man with a radio in “The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada” or as Ted Webb, Loretta Lynn’s father, in “The Coal Miner’s Daughter”—his lines delivered in a disarming, down-home Arkansas drawl; he also narrated “The Right Stuff.”

It was Helm, in fact, who Mark “Tiger” Edmonds channeled during last week’s run of “Fool For Love,” a bizarre, incestuous play written by acclaimed actor Sam Shepard. The Saint Leo University production was directed by Dave McGinnis, an assistant professor of English and theater. I’m no theater critic. I saw “Death of a Salesman” in North Carolina several years ago and once played “Sandy the Dog” in Jefferson Elementary School’s version of “Annie.” I was adorable. But that’s about all I know about thespians, stage directions, curtain calls and theater etiquette. So when I slouched into the back row at the Selby Auditorium on Saturday night, I was really only hoping not to be bored. I left happily entertained. Edmonds, who retired from Saint Leo last year after more than 40 years in higher education, wore his typical attire: faded jeans, denim shirt, bandana around the forehead and dark sunglasses. His graying hair was, as usual, pulled into a long ponytail. An “unseen” narrator positioned at mid-stage, he offered salt-of-the-earth insight to his son and daughter, half-siblings as well as belligerent, befuddled lovers. May, the daughter, was played by the talented Julia Teal, while her booze-swilling, rifle-cleaning brother, Eddie, was portrayed by Joshua Pless. Chris Collier played Martin, a dimwitted third wheel who finds himself amid the quarreling duo in a desert motel. That cast performed on March 26 and 28. On March 25 and 27, May was played by Emily Belbo; Josh Porthouse portrayed Eddie; and Dan Losey was Martin. For weeks leading up to the production, Edmonds had worried of flubbing his lines and “making a fool” of himself in public. If he screwed up Saturday night, the audience didn’t know. His Western-style delivery, timing and out-of-the-spotlight expressions seemed to complement the depraved tale perfectly. In the parking lot afterward, Edmonds pulled a crooked cigarette from a soft pack of Winstons. The cast and crew had given him a card and framed pictures of the production. Edmonds’ biker image, poker face and deep, Johnny Cash voice help project a hard image, but he was clearly touched by the gifts. Still, as he exhaled smoke into the sweet Florida air, he said, “I’m glad that’s over with.” He has vowed never to step foot on a stage again, or be forced to remember lines he didn’t write himself. “I believe him,” said The Tall Girl, Edmonds’ bride. “It was too much like work. He was on that script every day for two months and the rehearsal schedule was five days a week sometimes.” Thus, Edmonds resumed retirement after taking his bows Saturday night. He went fishing Monday and was riding his motorcycle today. Later, he might relax on his porch with a cigarette, outlaw country playing in the background.

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Clifton Comes Alive (In Zephyrhills)

Posted Mar 26, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Mar 26, 2009 at 03:06 PM

Greg Clifton, the wild-haired, ‘60s-stylin’ psychedelic Christian rocker and dedicated Sounds Great CD store employee, is performing with singer-songwriter Talesha Hogan at Friday night’s Relay For Life at Zephyrhills High School.

Clifton joined Hogan’s band a few months ago, but it will be just the pair of them performing Friday night – she on vocals, he on guitar. Relay For Life benefits the American Cancer Society; the event is free. “’Amazing Grace’ is probably the only cover we’ll do,” Clifton said, adding that he will provide background vocals on some tunes. Known for a bluesy, inspirational approach, Hogan recently began working with a producer and management team, and is recording a full-length CD in Miami. She hopes to eventually tour to promote the album – and bring Clifton along. The half-hour Relay For Life performance will be the duo’s latest in a series of gigs. They have played recently at the Florida State Fair, as well as events at Westfield Citrus Park and St. Joseph’s Hospital in Tampa. “We’re going to put on a good show,” Clifton said. “And it’s for a good cause.”

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Dead Man Talking

Posted Mar 20, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Mar 20, 2009 at 04:31 PM

Mark “Tiger” Edmonds exhaled smoke through his nose and mouth, simultaneously.
“I’m the old, dead guy,” he said.
And I always just thought of him as old.
Dave McGinnis, assistant professor of English and theater at Saint Leo University, deserves credit for seeing more in the retired English professor. McGinnis met the hippie/author/caustic social commentator a couple of years ago, just before Edmonds retired from Saint Leo.

While trying to cast the Sam Shephard play “Fool For Love,” playing at Saint Leo’s Selby Auditorium next Wednesday through Saturday, McGinnis said he immediately thought of the ponytailed, denim- and bandana-wearing biker. “It took about 2.3 seconds for me to realize” who should play the part, McGinnis said. “It’s a Western-style role. Either you have that, or you don’t. Nobody can really teach you what you need to know. I was like, ‘That’s pretty much Tiger.’” He described Edmonds’ role as “sort of a metaphorical type of narrator.” A film version of Shephard’s play, featuring fighting lovers and a desert motel, was produced in 1985. “He doesn’t provide direct narration,” he said. “He basically tells stories of times he was out on the road. In a metaphorical way that will relate to what’s going on.” McGinnis’ logic seems sound. Edmonds has literally driven his BMW motorcycle around the United States and Canada, and other parts of the world, and his written books, including “Longrider” and “The Ghost of Scootertrash Past,” chronicling his experiences. However, in recent weeks, Edmonds has whined about the number of lines he is required to remember and has worried of making a fool of himself in public. As if that’s never happened. “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing, and if I ever learn what I’m supposed to say I have to go back and learn when to say it,” he said. “I may show up too drunk to go on; that seems to be a theatrical standard.” It has been 32 years since Edmonds swallowed a drop of alcohol. “But I’m retired,” he said. “I don’t care anymore.” Admission is free.

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The Will To Work

Posted Mar 5, 2009 by Geoff Fox

Updated Mar 5, 2009 at 05:08 PM

Ken Parks hefted the Craftsman lawn mower onto a table.
For a 5-foot-4, 150-pound man, that’s impressive.
He propped the mower under a small jack, placed a pan beneath it and turned a wrench a few times before backing away and muttering hoarsely in a voice tattered by his second, ongoing bout with cancer.
In moments, the 61-year-old former dairy farmer brought out an adjustable wrench from a large toolbox, jammed it under the oil gasket and gave it a twist. Thick, black sludge oozed into the pan. Parks—the owner, operator and only employee of Ken’s Small Engine Repair—exhaled loudly.

“I’m a worker,” he said with a rasp and shrug of the shoulders. “I love what I do.” That’s a good thing. Parks, who has run the mobile repair business for about four years, recently began receiving chemotherapy treatment for a tumor that pushes on his larynx, leaving him with a whisper of a voice. In 2002, he survived tonsil cancer but remembers the debilitating chemotherapy that left him sick as overindulgent New Year’s reveler. This time, he says, the chemotherapy won’t be as intense, and he plans to work through the treatments. He doesn’t have much choice. Dawn, his wife of 13 years, is in the final stages of Alzheimer’s disease and is on a waiting list to get into Zephyr Haven Nursing Home. A Marine in the 1960s, Parks receives medical insurance through the Department of Veterans Affairs, but he still needs to earn a living.

He has a steady base of loyal customers from around Pasco County who keep him busy, but he worries about losing more business because it’s hard for him to return phone calls. Despite the slowed economy, Parks’ busiest time of year is fast-approaching. “I’m trying to find someone who can make appointments for me, just someone who can ask [callers] when I need to come over” for a job, he said. “All I need is a voice.” A native of New York, Parks moved to Florida more than 30 years ago. He said he was a mechanic at Pasco Power Outdoor Equipment until the company went out of business. He started doing repairs soon after. Neighbor Bill Howard said Parks has done excellent work on his Craftsman lawn mower and described him as a “real nice guy.” “He’s got a real serious case of cancer, though,” he said. Nevertheless, there was work piling up outside a small, tidy garage at Parks’ home on a recent visit. A riding lawn mower, several self-propelled mowers and a pressure washer needed his attention. “In the summer, I’ll usually get home around 4 p.m. or 5 p.m., and I’ll sharpen blades out here [in the shop] for another few hours,” he said. “Then I’ll get up at 3 a.m. or 4 a.m. and do the quieter work, the spark plugs and air filters, and I’ll get everything ready to deliver that day.” The man, after all, is a worker. He just wants to keep going. For information, call Parks at (813) 743-3852.

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