It would be an unwarranted extension to proclaim that after having been on Longboat Key for the past month and a half, and having returned here after last year for another season, that I am beginning to blend in with the wallpaper and that my babbling is starting to sound like a television ad. Nonetheless the indisputable truth is that while cycling along Gulf of Mexico Drive late this afternoon I couldn’t help thinking how commonplace everything now appears to me, how my vision of the place has become so astute as to remark upon the lines and crevices in the sidewalk, how noticeable are the newly arrived tourists, in short how “residential” I feel in spite of my foreign citizenship and remote domicile.

What however I believe primarily engaged me today was the fact that I didn’t abandon my virginal lair until almost eleven o’clock this morning. I was glued to the burrow, implacably diluted to intransigence. I recognized as well that each time I attempted to extricate myself from the haven I was clearly interrupting what was manifestly an imperative. Once again it exceeds plausibility to suggest that I was in need of convalescence yet it was so. When at last I felt the identifiable urge to awaken myself and stand upright on the floor I knew too that I had needed the sleep.

After my late breakfast of the usual ingredients I urgently sought to offset an instinctive remorse at having lingered so late in bed. Getting onto the bicycle instantly rebooted my mechanism and afforded me the unparalleled rewards of habit, exercise, motion and scenery. It was equally apparent that the island is in transition. After the bustle of Thanksgiving the place had obviously been set aside until what I presume will be the period immediately after Christmas and before the New Year. In this predominantly retirement venue it is the visits from children and grandchildren which highlight social activity surrounding public holidays.

Getting into the Christmas spirit was not something I had anticipated but it overtook me for the most peculiar reason. When bicycling I began humming to myself as I frequently do. I recalled when I was attending Horace Mann elementary school in Washington, DC at the age of six or seven years I was the lead singer of “The Twelve Days of Christmas” in a school pageant. My teacher was so convinced of my warbling ability that she advised my parents to enter me in a singing competition. The competition did not however take place until much later in the year – even approaching spring or early summer if I recall correctly since there was no snow on the ground at the time. When I arrived at the place where the competition was held I was the only candidate without a music book in hand. As each of the others were called to stand aside the grand piano and perform, they first handed their sheet music to the pianist and instructed her what to play for them. When it came my turn I boldly walked to the piano and asked the pianist if she knew “The Twelve Days of Christmas” Apparently she did. I sang as best I could but was never called for a repeat performance. As a prize for my recital my parents took me to an aquarium shop where they bought me a new fish for my tank. Fish were at that time my hobby.

Upon recalling this moderately embarrassing event I thought it was appropriate to render a reprise of the gig so I commenced singing “The Twelve Days of Christmas“. To my astonishment I seemed to recall each of the twelve days. I made every effort to sing skilfully. I have the courtesy to attach the lyrics for anyone who wishes to test their own memory.

Twelve Days of Christmas

On the first day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
A partridge in a pear tree

On the second day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the third day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the fourth day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the fifth day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Five gold rings
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the sixth day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Six geese a laying
Five gold rings
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the seventh day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Seven swans a swimming
Six geese a laying
Five gold rings
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the eighth day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Eight maids a milking
Seven swans a swimming
Six geese a laying
Five gold rings
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the ninth day of Christmas
Me me me me me me
Nine ladies dancing
Eight maids a milking
Seven swans a swimming
Six geese a laying
Five gold rings, badam-pam-pam
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the tenth day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Ten lords a leaping
Nine ladies dancing
Eight maids a milking
Seven swans a swimming
Six geese a laying
Five gold rings, badam-pam-pam
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the eleventh day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
Eleven pipers piping
Ten lords a leaping
Nine ladies dancing
Eight maids a milking
Seven swans a swimming
Six geese a laying
Five gold rings, badam-pam-pam
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

On the twelfth day of Christmas
My true love gave to me
12 drummers drumming
Eleven pipers piping
Ten lords a leaping
Nine ladies dancing
Eight maids a milking
Seven swans a swimming
Six geese a laying
Five gold rings, badam-pam-pam
Four calling birds
Three French hens
Two turtle doves
And a partridge in a pear tree

Thus began my introduction to the Christmas season today. By the time I reached Bayfront Park I had already expanded my endeavour to include a similarly detailed memory of “The Snowman – Walking in the Air“. So enthused was I that my reverie floated across Sarasota Bay and reminded me of Brighton Palace Pier.