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or The King Is Dead

We went to Hilton Head Island today and spent a couple hours. It was not for fun. We got a phone call Monday night to tell us that our friend Jerry Horsman, AKA The Condo King, had died suddenly of a heart attack. Jerry was 71 years old, but he had the vitality and drive of a man half his age. When he “retired” 6 years ago from ASCO he didn’t kick back at all, he just had more time to manage condos and do more projects around the home.

I don’t remember how we got hooked up, but he owned a unit in the Hilton Head Beach and Tennis Resort that he rented out, managed several others and wanted a web presence. I was monkeying around doing a little HTMLing for a personal home page and told him I’d do up a basic page for him. Condos came and went, both owned and managed, over the years I was doing the web page, but there were at least two trips, sometimes three, a year to photograph different or remodeled units. Each time we went, Jerry would put us up in one of the units. As if that wasn’t enough payment for what little work it was for me, he also took Donna and I out to dinner at a nice restaurant (of which there are many on HHI) or sometime he and his wife Donna would cook us a great meal at their place.

While Hilton Head was not a place that Donna and I would have picked as a getaway place, over the years we really came to enjoy it and mostly because of our interaction with Jerry and his wife Donna. We won’t miss him as much as you will Donna, but our lives will be a little less bright from now on because Jerry is no longer with us.

…it must be Pizza Day.

The nice DOT workers finished the resurfacing of my street and the circle that loops through the neighborhood today. When I got home I laced up the blades and did a couple circuits and a few criss-crosses to rack up a couple miles of smooth asphalt. It was really cool when pushing off hard to accelerate, sounded just like a hockey player making the same moves on ice.

Meanwhile, Donna finished up the aborted backyard mowing that stopped when the mower did and wouldn’t restart. A nice new spark plug fixed that little problem.

When we both finished up, she didn’t want to cook and proclaimed she wanted pizza. This week we went downtown and ate at Ferrando’s restaurant in the Alley instead of bringing it home. Ice water for both to drink, two Garden Salads (Italian for her, Blue Cheese for me) and a 14″ Pizza Pie with pepperoni, mushrooms, onions, green peppers and banana pepper rings.

Current plan is to ride the tandem to work tomorrow morning. I’ve got the front and rear racks on and they are carrying a set of panniers each. I’ll try and take a picture because I’m thinking of nicknaming it the Partridge Family Bus. Teal frame with red front bags and black back bags plus a blue water bottle carrier bag hanging from the captains seat. Add a couple of brightly dressed cyclists and “Come On Get Happy.”

Several of my co-workers know of my Post Office quest and on Monday’s I’ll get two or three, “How many did you get this weekend?” This last Monday I had to disappoint those that asked by saying, “None.” I feel like I’ve let them down, so this weekend we have mapped out an ambitious plan to get eleven POs this weekend.

1. Cope
2. Cordova
3. Orangeburg
4. Rowesville
5. Bowman
6. Saint George
7. Saint George
8. Reevesville
9. Branchville
10. Bamberg
11. Hilda

Hilda is a retry. We spent about 15 minutes driving a hundred yards of small town Main Street trying to find this Post Office the first time, so we aren’t too sure we’ll find it this time. Hope springs eternal.