Monday, April 19, 2021

Finally, the Main Entry Event: From Miami Beach to Flagler Beach & Airline Performative Traveling to All WOKE-Jacking Points In Between

A jet -- a 777? -- takes off from Miami International Airport, as seen from the MIA Mover, 1:17 p.m., April 16, 2021


OK, as I alluded to in my previous entry, this main posting has taken me far too long to complete -- at this point, it's Monday and I started the damn thing Friday night. So, I'm going to try to post the entry Monday early afternoon ...

So, I made it on Friday night here to Flagler Beach to visit my dad in his little trailer in what is known as the Flagler-by-the-Sea trailer park.

Street view, Flagler-by-the-Sea trailer park, unincorporated Flagler Beach, Fla., 4:48 p.m., April 18, 2021


To clarify, this trailer park is about 4 miles north of the Flagler Beach Pier and in not in the City of Flagler Beach proper. It is just north of what is known as Beverly Beach and is barely south of or just in an unincorporated area called Painters Hill.

My highly circuitous journey here in Flagler Beach from Miami Beach followed a highly circuitous journey via Miami International Airport (MIA) to Daytona Beach International Airport (DAB) via Charlotte Douglas International Airport (CLT) involving nearly 1,100 miles.

This journey incorporated an extra 900 miles of flying that I could have avoided if there existed a direct MIA - DAB commercial flight, which there does not and reflects how badly underutilized is DAB and how curiously difficult it is to get around different parts of Florida without a private vehicle.

It also represents an extra 800 fly-the-performatively-agonizing miles if I had been able to utilize one of the various MIA-JAX flights. However, that idea nixed by my dad because he has a thing about driving to the Jacksonville area.

View of a portion of the Miami skyline as it stretches along Biscayne Bay from the 150X, 12:51 p.m., April 16, 2021


For starters, I got to MIA on the 150X bus, which I picked up at 2nd and Washington even though it goes right past my apartment at 10th and Collins. But the bus only takes you to the what, as near as I can figure, is called Miami Intermodal Center (MIC), also known as the Miami Airport Station, and not to be confused with Miami Central Station (stylized as MiamiCentral).

Schematic of rapid transit and passenger rail service in the Miami metropolitan area in 2018 with Tri-Rail Downtown Miami Link shown; click on and download for large version of this map.


To get from MIC to the airport, MIA, you have to take what is called the MIA Mover the 1-1/4 mile distance over an otherwise unwalkable maze of highways and unwalkable urban purgatory.

The Club Pink Pussycat and its ALL NUDE REVUE located in a spaghetti-maze-of-highways-hemmed-in urban no man's land, as seen from the 150X, Miami, Fla., 12:57 p.m., April 16, 2021


The MIA Mover is an Automated People Mover (APM), and at least according to what I read on Wikipedia, it is considered a spur of the Miami-Dade Metrorail, itself a heavy-rail system ocnsisting of 23 stations.

Closeup of the downtown area of the above schematic of rapid transit and passenger rail service in the Miami metropolitan area in 2018 with Tri-Rail Downtown Miami Link shown.

The Tri-Rail system -- servicing Miami, Broward, and Palm Beach Counties between Miami and West Palm Beach to include the three big airports of MIA, FLL, and PBI -- also has a station there. Amtrak does not owing to an insufficiently long platform. Miami-Dade's Metrobus and Greyhound also serve MIC.

Map legend for the schematic of rapid transit and passenger rail service in the Miami metropolitan area

Then there is something called Metromover, but it doesn't appear to service MIC. Oh, and to confuse things further, at MIA, there are two other APMs: Skytrain and MIA e Train that service particular concourses.

MIA is a sprawling airport with a complicated, multi-tiered layout that includes half-mile long concourses at sharp angles to other concourses, walkways, escalators, and random elevators near dead ends, not to mention the APMs (i.e., the Skytrain and MIA e Train mentioned above), and sundry airline ticket areas that sort of appear willy-nilly while you're walking.

It's also one of the major entry points into the United States so, as with JFK or LAX, you see lots of old school aircraft -- such as 747s, 767s, and 777s (OK, they're still being made) -- that belong either to national airlines you've never heard of flying to places you'd never go (or want to go such as Port-au-Prince) and cargo fleets on their slightly international drug-running-sounding runs to spots in Central and South America.

As shown in the above image I took from inside its Concourse E, MIA is the sort of place where a Southwest jet can be parked at a terminal gate next to a Boliviana de AviaciĆ³n (BoA) jet, one going to Raleigh-Durham, the other to La Paz.

Ascent from MIA directly over I-95 looking north, 2:57 p.m., April 16, 2021


I'll refrain from any commentary about CLT -- except to say that I went to a weird sushi bar and bar located in a "node" between several concourses. As for DAB, it is a woefully under-utilized airport that in its tiny terminal size (it has a major airport-sized runway) resembles some regional airport on the American Great Plains -- maybe Valentine, Nebraska?

Oh, and while we're talking about under-utilized airports, another airport with a large runway (8,000') in this part of Florida -- and one that would be quite convenient to this Flagler-by-the-Sea locale -- that goes functionally unused is Northeast Florida Regional Airport. Of note, this airport's IATA Code is UST but it's ICAO code is KSGT. That is, the two don't -- as is almost always the case for larger airports in the U.S., simply differ by the "K" letter. This is because IATA uses SGT for an airport in Sagarai, Papua New Guinea. (For airport weather stations, NWS uses ICAO codes.)

Anyway, as for the flights, they were satisfactory as far as flying domestically goes in the world of 2021. The mask hectoring wasn't nearly as bad as I feared and nothing like it was on that January trip I took with Gary from my then-home in D.C. to Fort Lauderdale. (That was the trip that finally moved me to move to South Florida.)

Ascent from MIA over Biscayne Bay and what are called the Picnic Islands, 2:58 p.m., April 16, 2021


I was somewhat worried riding back in the dark up busy I-95 from Daytona to Bunnell / Rt 100 exit, especially as it was raining and my dad is 80. (Remmeber, I basically don't drive even though I should.)

As for the visit here, for starters, this is my first time having internet access. My dad got Wifi a few months ago. I was worried it wasn't going to work -- and initially it didn't, but the passcode key that my dad wrote on a piece of paper taped to the refrigerator eventually worked.

Ascent and turn from MIA over Biscayne Bay with another view of the Picnic Islands, 2:58 p.m., April 16, 2021

Though it took off due east, the jet never actually made it over the Atlantic Ocean before its sharp turn to the NNW.


On Saturday, we went to the annex / rec room of St. Elizabeth Ann Seton Catholic Church, where my dad got his second Moderna shot. This was originally scheduled for today but was moved up because of all the frickin' stormy weather. I've already discussed the stormy, rainy weather here.

As for the shot efforts, other than being tired yesterday and having a sore upper arm where it was administered, there were no adverse effects (unlike all those terrible stories I'm reading about on Alex Berenson's twitter feed). As for the vaccination location, there were actually Florida National Guardsmen there in addition to regular volunteers.

Descending into CLT somewhere over a far-flung patchwork of fields, forest tracts, and exurbs, 4:21 p.m., April 16, 2021


Thereafter, we went to the nearby ginormous Walmart, where we bought about $266 worth of stuff to include some clothing and undergarments, toiletries, and other items. There were no sneakers available.

People waiting for their first or second Covid shots the annex and/or rec room of St. Elizabeth Ann Seaton Catholic Church, Palm Coast, Fla., 4:21 p.m., April 16, 2021

Like most places, Florida has stopped administering the J&J shot and is just doing the two-dose Moderna or two-dose Pfizer. My plan is to get the Pfizer next month.


Since I'm talking about Covid, here is a must-watch Bill Maher "New Rule" segment from his Friday show ...

Returning to this visit, I've done nothing and spent no money since Friday. It has been too wet and cool to even attempt to go in the ocean, and I haven't wanted to venture into Flagler Beach's main area, especially in this immediate period following the vaccination. There is enough food to pull together a lunch and make dinner. Unlike me, my dad is actually a good cook. I can't make diddly and hate cooking. Always have.

At night, we watch TV -- while bouts of torrential rains have moved through -- as I've tried to complete this damn blog entry. At night, I am sleeping in a small, dark backroom with the fan and window a/c turned on. My dad sleeps in his main living room area -- such as it is in a small trailer -- and with the TV on.

We've been watching (as we have in years gone by, though now he has a DVD rather than an old VHS tape) each of the trio of Topper supernatural comedy movies. Cary Grant starred in the first one. So far, I like best the third one, Topper Returns. These are colorized versions, although, honestly, I think I prefer the original black-and-white. The dialogue is hilarious in that one-liner comedic 1930s - 1940s way.

For example, after a massive chandelier falls: "Two rooms for the ladies. Yeah, preferably ones without chandeliers."

When retiring for the night into their rooms: "Lock your door, in case Lady Frankensteen [sic] walks in her sleep."

The detective: "Don't tell me the joint's haunted!" And my favorite from Rochester's character Eddie: "People talkin' to NOTHIN' and GETTIN' answers!"

Ah, the great Joan Blondell. Thanks, but cheers to YOU, Ms. Blondell


As for this upcoming week, workwise it should be significantly slower than last week with no progress report work and only longer-term tasks to work. I sort of planned the trip around that expectation. Regardless, I am still going to be teleworking as much as I can to full time. I actually have a lot of longer-term things I can do.

I head back down to Miami Beach on Thursday. My dad is actually taking me there, and he will stay with me for two to three days. Both the drive down and his stay there have me quite worried.

While in fine health active and active, he is 80 years old and the idea of having him in an American urban environment -- even a resort one such as Miami Beach -- deeply worries me.

This is owing, of course, to the chaos, cultural and social depravity, endless acts of sound and automotive violence, and general lunacy that allows so much of the population to essentially do anything in a dystopian Reign of Terror enforced by ultimately homocidal-suicidal WOKE fanatics. I refer to the sort who WANT you to be carjacked or victim of some other violent crime -- and certainly don't want you to fight back.

Above and below: Compendium image of three and four screenshots, respectively, of a video of an attempted carjacking by two shit teenagers attempting to carjack at gunpoint an adult male, who kicks the shit out of the lead one -- one-two-three whaling punches and a hard body-slam on the pavement -- while his accomplice stands at a safe distance.

Undoubtedly, video will be taught in WOKE seminars at institutions of higher educational fraud as examples of horrify and make the WOKE feel "UNSAFE" because, ultimatley, they WANT this sort of targeted violence and you're not supposed to fight back but instead let yourself be carjacked and killed.

And the WOKE do it together with information control efforts of Big Media and Big Tech and eager participation of Corporate Oligarchy. American society, most acutely in its urban spots, is a highly dangerous and ugly thing -- and not just in New York, L.A. Chicago, and San Francisco, and D.C. (where Madam Mayor McCheese can't get enough carjackings and small business destruction).

OK, that's all for now. And I realize I never discussed my dad's two black cats -- Zudy and Pyewacket. They are the second Zudy and Piwacket cats he has had -- and, as with the first two, are brothers. The first Pyewacket was My Guy Pye.

Signing off. My next entry might not be until the weekend.


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