Hurricane Hanks on Anna Maria Island is the kind of place the name suggests: Florida casual, wizened regulars perched on bar stools, waitresses (yes, the term is correct at a place like this) who call you “sweetie” and “hon,” and burgers piled high like a Dagwood sandwich. A “Hey, just relax” vibes permeate the place.

We arrived at Hurricane Hanks on the first night of our Florida stay, and the woman who greeted us (the owner) was most welcoming. She came to our booth and chatted with us as we were finishing our Dagwoods. Turns out, she moved down from Pittsburgh five years ago after her husband died of a brain tumor. “We had a great time,” she said, “we laughed for 40 straight years.” Talk about resiliency, the benefits of maintaining a positive outlook.

On day two of our stay, I walked along the beach wearing my “Omega Five Fatty Asses” T-shirt, the one especially designed for my Vermont Marathon relay team, composed of my two sons, my two stepsons and me. One young woman yelled out, “Hey, where did you get that shirt? I want it!” I explained the origin of the shirt, and we chatted for a while. She attends Muskingum University in Ohio and plans to follow in her parents’ footsteps and become a chiropractor. When I asked her how she likes Muskingum, she said the academics were great, but the social life is not. “The boys are so immature; they’re not serious about real relationships; they just want to find a ‘friend with benefits.’” We suggested that males mature later than females, and she agreed. (I later wondered if she thought that it was “mature” for an 81-year-old man to walk along the beach sporting an Omega Five Fatty Asses T-shirt.)

Another time, when I was having trouble with my iPhone, I asked a youngish woman if she could help me. She solved it in a nanosecond, so we began talking. Turns out both of her parents died when she was in her early 20’s – one of cancer, the other of a brain tumor. She was glad that her mother had been able to stay home and take care of her and her two siblings; she’s doing the same thing because her family can afford that option. We commended her for putting her kids’ wellbeing first. She thanked us with tears in her eyes. Apparently, stay-at-home moms (or dads) often feel demeaned by a society which undervalues people who don’t “work.”. At the same time, too many young families can’t get by if both parents don’t work.

One day as we were leaving the beach, I asked the woman who had been sitting beside us what she was reading. (Often a good conversation starter.) She said, “It’s a memoir.” The book was: “Hiding Out: A Memoir of Drugs, Deception and Double Lives” by Tina Alexis Allen. She said her daughter had been to school with the author and that it was a very disturbing book. When I asked her if there was any redemption, she said, “Not yet.” I asked if it was well written, she said, “Yes.”

Me being me, I bought the book for my Kindle. She was right. Well written but most disturbing. The narrator had been the youngest of 13 children. Her father was an obsessive Catholic to the point that he managed to meet the Pope in person and get to know many people in the Catholic hierarchy over the years. But he was no saint to put it mildly. A hardcore alcoholic, he treated his wife and children like scum who existed to obey his rules and meet his needs. And, oh yes, he was a closet homosexual who spent much of his time away on business trips seeking liaisons with young men. The author, herself, did not live a pristine life. She had a three-year affair with her female teacher from age 11 to 14. She was abused by two of her brothers. As a young woman in her early 20s, she and her father would travel together, bonded by the knowledge of each other’s secret lives.

Tina Alexis Allen wrote the book after her parents died. She had become a model and, later, an actress. I can’t say that I’m glad I read the book. I can say that I didn’t admire how she dealt with an admittedly horrible home life. I wanted to take a shower after finishing the book.

At the Beach House Restaurant in Bradenton, a menu item caught our eye: Mere Point Oysters. Wow! We told our server (and later the manager) that we knew the owners of that company. Then three men sat down at an adjoining table and said they were going to order the oysters. Rhey were the three baseball coaches at Deerfield Academy. One of the men has a son who will be entering Bowdoin this fall and plans to play baseball. He really loved the atmosphere at Bowdoin and the baseball coach Mike Connolly. Chalk one up for the small world department.

Not all gems one discovers along the way are without flaws; not everyone has a good story to share. But talking about real issues with total strangers can pay good dividends if you’re open to listening and sharing.

David Treadwell, a Brunswick writer, welcomes commentary and suggestions for future “Just a Little Old” column at dtreadw575@aol.com.

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