Time For A Change ~ Monkette Can't Wait

Nothing seems to happen fasten enough for Monkette! The run-off election was still ten days away and she couldn't wait to replace the Blynn sign with a Bonnie Schwartzbaum sign in the reserved parking lot behind City Hall. I tried to reason with her, told her that the city would put up the new sign after the election if Bonnie wins.

It ain't easy reasoning with a toy monkey. Brain neurons and cotton fibers just don't seem to process information in exactly the same way. She grabbed the sign and bolted from the truck, ran into the parking lot, and jumped up on top of the hedge. Finally I decided to try a different tack. I appealed to the girl in her. "That sign is yellow with red letters while the other signs are white with black letters. It just won't LOOK right! You know how careful Bonnie is to always color coordinate her outfits, don't you? She's NOT going to like this. No way!"

After a brief discussion she put the sign back in the truck. I took her over to Publix in search of Devil Dogs and bananas.

Monkette is taking the day off following the elections

She said that while there were no clear-cut wins, coming in with her candidates being the top vote getters heading toward the run-offs was a major thrill for the only toy monkey to ever get involved in running political campaigns. Being at the polls from the crack of dawn until they closed, then going to city hall as the results were tabulated, finally ending up pouting in the truck because Frank's victory party was held at a ritzy resaurant that didn't serve bananas..and she just plain gets cranky when she's overtired! Here it is almost 10 AM and she's still sleeping!

Paranoia!...But Why Is It Banana Yellow?

Monkette freaked when we came out of the post office. "CRITTER CONTROL" was right there on the door of the banana yellow truck that was parked right next to OUR truck.

It took awhile to calm her down. Sometimes it ain't all that easy explaing things to the cotton stuffed head of a toy monkey. First off, I told her that she wasn't "Wildlife" in need of management. She was a very civilized toy monkey and lived with me in our house, not in a tree in the back yard. "See, that's a picture of a racoon, and they live in the woods when they're not knocking over garbage cans!" I told her. She'd never seen a racoon but she'd seen knocked over garbage cans before.

In retrospect, though, I think that her making a scene was just a ruse. I stopped off at Publix on the way home and picked up some fresh bananas and a box of Devil Dogs. Everything was good again.

Look What Monkette Found ~ WILD BANANAS!

We had about half an hour to kill before Monkette and I would head over to city hall and listen to the mayoral and council candidates tell us about all the things that they thought we wanted to hear. It would be mostly a litany of self-agrandisement as one after the another would get cut off in mid-sentence by the moderator as they exceeded the alloted two minutes to respond to questions from the audience.

We decided to check out the back yard. Janis had told Monkette that she'd spotted a couple of stalks of bananas in the jungle that passes for our back yard. Code Enforcement hates my back yard, but I keep pointing out that it really looks pretty much the same as the Enchanted Forest park a couple of blocks away. They don't have much of a "lawn" either. One time they tried to cite me for over height "weeds" in the front yard but I made the officer kneel down and identify exactly what kind of "weeds" they were. He agreed with me that they were live oak seedlings, a protected species, and that getting permits at $25 each for a few hundred live oaks would be a major imposition on our banana budget. A week later I mowed the lawn anyway. The fine print exempted newly sprouted acorns.

These banana plants were already growning here when I bought the house back in '67. Some years there are a few stalks, some none. The soil isn't really conducive to raising bananas. There's pretty much solid coral rock just a few inches below the surface and bananas like deep thick rich soil. That's why we can't get a full stalk of fruit. Too little water and not enough nutrients.

These bananas are a small thin skinned variety called "apple bananas", and they have a smell and taste very much like apples. I like them sliced up on a bowl of corn flakes. Monkette just plain likes them! And I suppose we'll share them with Janis. That's probably why we got blessed with two stalks this year.

Changes HAVE Come To The North Mami Political Scene!

Monkette is just positively THRILLED! For the first time in the history of North Miami bananas are a featured item on the invitation to a campaign party! And for the first time an invitation was sent to a toy monkey! North Miami is at the forefront of a new era in politics. Monkette says"Thanks, Bonnie!"
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Meet Me at the Luna Star Café
775 NE 125th Street, across from City Hall
Downtown North Miami

Wednesday, April 15th

6 pm to 7pm

COFFEE, CAKE, AND CONVERSATION
(there will be bananas!)

Let’s sit down and talk about what YOU feel are the important issues in North Miami.

Bonnie Schwartzbaum for North Miami City Council
District 2

A Love-In At Greynold's Park

When I found out about the love-in at Greynold's Park I told Al that he's gotta take me! No excuses! I'd heard so much about hippies and the culture of the late 60's, love-ins at Greynold's Park, live rock music, free love, pot, the smell of incense, wildly painted VW Microbuses, miniskirts and bell bottom jeans...but to hear Al tell it? Girls, free love, ganga,girls, free love, ganga, girls, free love, ganga...Oh yeah, and rock music! Lots of great Rock Music (and girls, freelove, and ganga)

So here we were at Greynold's Park. No it wasn't in a time machine. Somebody came up with the bright idea of holding another love-in after a hiatus of forty years. And there weren't all that many sexy teenage chicks in miniskirts and love beads either. But what the hell. I'm a toy monkey and I'm female. I wasn't too happy to discover that all those handsome young guys depicted in Al's vintage photographs, the ones with shoulder length hair, fringed leather vests over tie dyed T-shirts (or even bare chests - yummmm!) still a few years from being hairy, bellbottom jeans, and sandles were now for the most part grey haired (those that still had hair anyway) old men with paunches spilling over what was left of a waist line.

Of course a lot of the ladies weren't in much better shape, but at least they had the excuse that making babies isn't exactly kind to a woman's figure. And there were the usual guys with chicks young enough to be their daughter, or grand-daughter even! Well, maybe they were. Let's give them the benifit of the doubt, OK?

The dudes all thought that Al was a complete nut (or REALLY stoned!) walking around carrying a toy monkey at his age. Toy monkeys? twenty year old chicks? Pretty much the same thing, isn't it? Reliving their earlier years, their childhood, the youth that's long lost but not forgotten.

Now the chicks, they're always fascinated by me, and they think that Al is one cool dude for having the guts to carry me around like that! I got more kisses and hugs from all those chicks than I've had in ages. I was hoping to catch a whiff or three of that ganga smoke, find out what that's all about, but these grey haired old fuddyduddies have all turned into beer drinkers just like their dads before them. Why can't they brew beer from bananas?