Not to worry, I’ll make it all better." Not my Gladys. She starts out nice, but if I make one teeny mistake that’s clearly not my fault—well, Gladys has a bit of a temper. "Re-
calculating!

Re-cal-culating!" she shrills, as if I’ve suddenly gone deaf instead of just stupid. Once she stopped talking to me altogether three blocks from our destination. I’m learning the ground rules, though, and it’s been great not having to ask for directions.

Pre-Gladys, the last time I sought advice I asked a gentleman how to get to the river pass at an unfamiliar beach park far from the Gulfshore.

"Just follow this path to the beach, then walk about a mile," he says.

"Do I turn left or right onto the beach?" I ask. Or is there just one direction?

"Oh, you’ll see when the path ends," he says. "Just follow the beach."

Sure enough, the path dead-ends at the beach, which stretches endlessly to the left. And to the right. These days, one wrong step, and the voice from my bag would be screaming, "Recalculating, you moron!"

Maybe she doesn’t like her name. I’m thinking I should change it to Sweet Granny. We’re going to work this thing out, but right now—counting her silent treatment—she’s still only batting about .500.

Speaking of batting, phone lines are now open for World Champion Red Sox spring training tickets (239-334-4700). Season tickets for the games at Fort Myers’ City of Palms Park have been sold out since the Sox won the World Series—in 2004, that is—breaking their 86-year dry spell.

You could get on the waiting list, but here’s an inside tip: You’ll have a better chance at an autograph or a chat with your favorite player if you show up during their 10 days of pre-training workouts in mid-February. The guys are happy to be back in the semitropics, surrounded by some of their best fans who come down with their families during the winter school break. Park at the stadium and take the shuttle to the player development area at 4301 Edison Ave.

Well, the donkeys and elephants are also preparing to slug it out. I normally would stay away from this topic, but how can I when there’s an eight-foot elephant in the room? Actually, he’s bronze, and he’s just a baby, created by world-renowned Naples sculptor Kathy Spalding. He’ll be sharing space with 59 other elephants and donkeys at The von Liebig Art Center Jan. 26 to Feb. 24. Guest curator James Meek III assures me it’s a fair and balanced treatment of the politically burdened creatures. Both serious and fun, the show displays important pieces like a 1946 Milton Avery painting valued at $125,000 beside modestly priced works of emerging artists.
Which is precisely why we love our little slice of paradise. We host one of the world’s most sophisticated and glamorous wine festivals and raise enormous amounts of money for many charities, but we’re playful, and we don’t take ourselves too seriously. Anyone tempted in that direction should remember that Lee and Collier counties once comprised the turkey hunting capital of North America; and long after the Wild West was tamed, this was the last frontier. We didn’t have cow "boys;" we had cow hunters: the John Waynes of the Everglades. The first white cow hunter was F.A. Hendry, a captain in the Confederate Army, who rounded up the ferocious, wild, horned beasts to feed the troops.

Later, there was such lawlessness on the newly built Tamiami Trail across the Everglades that the founding father and financier of the road, Barron Gift Collier, established a rough, tough motorcycle brigade to assure safe passage for travelers. He spaced six gas station outposts 10 miles apart. The men kept law and order on the Trail while their wives sold gas, oil and refreshments. The completion of the road happened to coincide with a Broadway play about the Canadian Mounties, so, after it closed, Collier traveled to New York and bought up the uniforms.

The high leather boots were fine, but the lawmen were less than thrilled with the pink-tinged jackets. Nonetheless, the Collier County "mounties" patrolled the Tamiami Trail until 1935. After proving his mettle against international criminals holed up in the Everglades, our own Barron Collier became one of the founders of Interpol, the FBI of Europe. So say the Friends of the Collier County Museum.

Some newcomers might wonder why a lowly turkey graces the Collier County flag. In fact, sometimes the county uses a new alternative logo, sans turkey, of two graceful swaying palms. Pretty generic, don’t you think, for a history this rich, crazy and wonderful? As Gladys would say, "Recalculate!"

So welcome back to paradise, where we still know how to play and how to laugh at ourselves. Between the wine tastings and the galas and the glam art shows of our fabulous new winter season, it’s fun to do a little U-turn and immerse in the rich fabric of our wilder days. It helps to remember that along with the electric light and other jaw-dropping technologies, winter resident Thomas A. Edison also invented wax paper. And that our toughest lawmakers once rode motorcycles in pink theater costumes.

Wishing you a joyful 2008. Be kind to people asking directions, and above all, savor the moment.