How to Split a Vacation Rental with Your Friends without Ruining Your Trip

Read article : How to Split a Vacation Rental with Your Friends without Ruining Your Trip

Image from tommypayne .

Sharing a vacation rental with friends is a great way to cut down on accommodations costs and have a space to relax together after a long day sightseeing. But splitting a vacation rental doesn't always go smoothly - we've all had that one friend who hogs the bathroom getting ready, spews their stuff all over the couch, or tries to skirt paying their fair share.

We've got some ideas on how to share a vacation rental and keep your friendships intact, and while this kind of planning and high level of communication isn't for everyone, but it does tend to make vacations with other people go more smoothly. If this isn't your style, or your friends balk at the idea of talking about things in such detail, then you might have to go with a more "wing it" style approach. If you do, know that things may not go as you want them to or that not everyone will be happy with what ends up happening.

Coordinate Ahead of Time

As with any group trip, a solid planning session or two goes a long way to making sure everyone enjoys the trip. Your session should include discussing:

• Everyone's top two or three wants in a rental . You need to get a sense of what's important to each friend. Set the expectation that everyone won't get all of their top wants, but it gives the group an idea of what should be prioritized when picking a place. For example, if three out of five people list proximity to the beach as their top want, that's something that should be considered when booking. Make sure that everyone has at least one of their wants satisfied so they don't end up feeling like they're paying to stay in a place they don't even like.
  
• Expectations of the trip . This goes beyond sharing a vacation rental, but is something you should discuss ahead of time. Some people might want to go out clubbing and some might be expecting to get an early start on sightseeing each day. You don't want to walk out of your room after a night of partying to see your friend annoyed that you weren't up in time to be first in line at the museum.
• Splitting major expenses . Discuss how the costs of food, transportation, activities, and the rental itself will be split. Will things be split evenly? Or should people expect to pay based on how big their room is? Also, agree on how damage caused to the rental by one person will be paid for.
  
• Who owns organizing what parts of the trip . To avoid confusion, ask people to volunteer to organize different parts of the trip. Things like booking the rental and being the contact person with the host, planning any meals you cook, who actually cooks (this might rotate within the group), booking rental cars or train tickets, and buying other supplies you'll need.
  
• The guest policy . Decide from the start if other people will be allowed to join your trip once the planning is already in motion. You should also talk about whether last minute guests are allowed and if they are, what that means for the shared costs and how they're split.
  
• A schedule for limited spaces . Work out who likes to shower in the morning and at night so you can make a schedule for the bathroom. Talk about morning routines so you know if you need to find a rental with a mirror or other space that can be used for doing hair, makeup, and other prep so that the bathroom is free. You might also decide to go as far as putting together a schedule for cooking and cleaning if your group plans to have a lot of meals at the rental.
• What to do if someone drops out . It sucks, but sometimes people have to bow out of a trip. Talk ahead of time about what costs they're responsible for if they do (this may depend on when they cancel) and how plans might change if someone does drop out. You may need to switch rentals or cut back on other trip costs to make up for the increased expense.

Not everyone is going to be thrilled about diving into such details, so propose planning as a fun get together where you all can get even more excited for your trip. Sipping drinks or chowing down on tasty treats puts everyone in a mood to agree on details.

Advertisement

If you're not able to meet in person, you can supplement with Facetime, a phone call, or shared Google Docs. Avoid long email chains or group texts. If others aren't willing to pitch in at the planning stage, consider if you're really up for going on a trip with them. Their lack of effort from the start could put a damper on the vacation.

Set Up "House" Rules

Once you arrive at your vacation rental, have a quick chat to go over house rules. Some of these will relate back to the schedule and other agreements you made in your planning session, but a refresher at the start of the trip helps people remember what they agreed to. Some other things you should go over:

• Quiet time : Is there a designated time (or times) during which people in the rental are expected to be quiet? For example, an hour in the afternoon when some people might nap or otherwise decompress, and then after a certain time at night.
• Keys : If you have a large group, it's likely that not everyone will have a key to the vacation rental (this may also be true if you have a rental car). Decide who will have keys and if there's a system for sharing keys (like leaving them in a bowl by the door or on the coffee table).
• Plan for the first day or two : Quickly discuss what everyone wants to do the day your arrive, and possible the next day. This gives you a chance to decide on things like, buying groceries or other supplies, unpacking, going out, or seeing high priority sights.

End on a High Note

At the end of a great trip, it can be tempting to let everyone drift off to their flights home. However, you want to make a little effort to end things on a good note so that there's no last minute wrinkles.

• Wrap up lingering IOUs . On the last day, set aside time to tally up the costs and make sure everyone who is owed money gets paid (and not in a "I'll Venmo you later..." kind of way).
• Organize a cleaning crew . Get everyone to pitch in to clean up your rental. You should know how much is expected from the host (maybe they don't want you to do anything). Split up tasks like taking out the trash, emptying the fridge, piling up dirty sheets and towels, washing dishes, and vacuuming or sweeping. If people are departing at different times, those who leave first should try to do one or two cleaning tasks with the expectation that the last person there will do a final sweep and spot clean anything that's left.
• Share a fun memory . After the trip is over, send a postcard that you picked up or print out a fun photo and mail it with a note to remind your friends what a great time you had. This is optional, of course, but a nice gesture that ends things on a high note.

The 23 Most Romantic Hotels in the Caribbean

Read article : The 23 Most Romantic Hotels in the Caribbean

With infinity pools overlooking the water, canopied beds ideal for cuddling, and elegant spas for couples' massages, many Caribbean hotels were designed for romantic escapes. But of course, some are better than others for vacationing with a significant other, so we set out to find the best of the best. After visiting hundreds (and hundreds) of hotels throughout St. Lucia, Aruba, Barbados, Jamaica, the Bahamas, and dozens more Caribbean destinations, we compared and evaluated each breathtaking property. Take a look at the most romantic hotels in the Caribbean, and get inspired!

1. 

   Romantic? Undoubtedly. Unique? Absolutely. Expensive? For sure. Through an innovative, open fourth wall, each of Jade's 29 enormous suites overlooks the sea from its canopied bed, raised whirlpool tub, and (in all but the entry-level category) private infinity pool. Getting to Jade Mountain can be tedious, even nauseating, but its organic cuisine, doting service, unwavering silence (no TVs, radios, or children), and extraordinary design make the long journey worthwhile.

2. 

   Interiors here are designed by fashion icon Oscar de la Renta, and the 30 rooms feature comfortable four-poster beds with crisp, white Frette linens and unique wicker canopies. Bathrooms have coral floors, deep hot tubs, large stand-up glass showers, and toiletries from L'Occitane -- about as good as it gets in the D.R. The best part: the nightly turndown includes a drawn bath with floating red flower petals and tea lights. Tortuga Bay's luxury Six Senses Spa is one of the D.R.'s best.

3. 

   This unique luxury resort in St. Lucia is made up of 32 one- and two-bedroom villas, each carefully carved into the surrounding hillside overlooking the island’s iconic twin Pitons. The treehouse-style villas -- which have missing fourth walls, and in most cases, private plunge pools -- are a main draw, as are the spectacular views and lush grounds. The resort also features some fabulous amenities, such as an infinity lagoon pool, a gorgeous open-air restaurant and bar, a (tiny) open-air fitness center, and a lovely spa with a multi-level series of small outdoor mineral pools. All of this comes at a price, but Ladera is still significantly cheaper than the ultra-glam Jade Mountain (rates are often around half as much). Ladera is within close range of several of the island’s best tourist destinations -- notable cocoa plantations are within walking distance, the pristine white sands of Jalousie beach are a short drive away, and tourist hot spots like the volcano and Tet-Paul nature trails are both nearby.

4. 

   This 23-room luxury boutique hotel is a Balinese-inspired paradise in Curacao where the details make the difference -- hand-carved teakwood pieces, gift bags left on the beds, and candles lit all around the property are just a few examples. The highlights of the resort are the elegant rooms and villas, some with private pools, the excellent fine-dining restaurant, and a lovely (though man-made) stretch of tranquil beach. This is the top luxury resort on Curacao, without contest.

5. 

   One of Jamaica's most romantic escape (for adults only), the Caves' 11 unique, private cottages and suites are tucked along lush garden paths and dramatic seaside cliffs (there's no beach) carved with steep stairways down to the water and into incredible grottos.. A top-shelf bar, an Aveda spa, free cooking classes, and intimate, incredibly attentive service make it Jamaica's best all-inclusive. High-quality food celebrates local ingredients, and the scene is laid-back and bohemian -- suited to travelers who appreciate outdoor showers and artful decor in favor of conventional luxury.

6. 

   This luxury all-inclusive resort is one of the most elegant and well-regarded hotels on the island, with 64 posh suites dotting a quarter mile of beachfront. Spice Island is a serene oasis amidst the bustling Grand Anse beach area, with clean lines, and a polished, upscale vibe that still maintains the laid-back charm of the Caribbean. The resort includes two restaurants, a beautiful spa, and a variety of activities, but peace and relaxation are also easy to find. The nice pool area is quiet and private, yet the beach -- though beautiful and clean -- is shared by locals and guests of nearby resorts.

7. 

   Accessed via a 30-minute boat ride from Providenciales, this 1,000-acre resort on a private island is the definition of tranquility. With an incredible infinity-edge pool, world-renowned COMO Shambhala Spa, waterfront Balinese-style villas, doting service, and more than three miles of pristine beaches, it's easily one of the most luxurious and romantic options in the Caribbean. But hefty price tags put it out of reach for many, and the rare level of privacy comes as the cost of convenience -- a boat commute is required to reach any nightlife or shopping.

8. 

   This luxurious Viceroy is truly a stunner. It has arguably the best location on St. Lucia, right in between the Pitons, St. Lucia's famous volcanic spires, and on a beautiful white-sand beach. Its 79 rooms are minimalistic, chic, and mostly white, and all come with private plunge pools, butlers, and 24-hour room service; the larger villas and cottages offer living rooms and huge bathrooms (some with outdoor showers and hot tubs). Features include a family-friendly pool, fitness center, tennis courts, and free water sports. The romantic tree-house spa is one of the island's best. The resort's restaurants and bars are pricey, but all-inclusive rates are available to help guests keep costs in check. Unlike Ladera and Jade Mountain, the other two St. Lucia properties on this list, Sugar Beach does allows children, but it tries to ensure peace and quiet for couples, as well, and opened an adult-only beach in spring 2016. 

9. 

   The Geejam is made up of only five private, high-tech cottages on the lush (rainy) foothills of Port Antonio. The setting is gorgeous, the service is extraordinary, and one of the Caribbean's most beautiful beaches is only 10 minutes away. Quiet seclusion it has; a pool, spa facilities, and direct beach access it does not.

10. 

    This adults-only luxury resort offers just two room types: deluxe rooms on the second floor, and slightly larger junior suites on the lower level with access to the beach. Sprawling across 11 acres on the west coast of Barbados, the property is situated closer to the waterfront than others in the area, due to it being built before legislation forced future resorts to build further inland. The pink Colonial-style property is romantic, and offers two restaurants and bars, as well as free afternoon tea on the terrace. Because there are only 72 rooms, the beach never feels crowded. Excellent amenities include an outdoor pool, tennis courts, and free non-motorized water sports. But all this comes at a price -- room and restaurant prices are some of the steepest in Barbados.

11. 

    One of Barbados' most exclusive resorts, The House is the definition of luxury. Located on the ritzy west coast, the adult-only property doesn’t even have a sign out front on the road. The property is secluded and private, with manicured gardens, koi ponds, and a chic lounge area. The rooms are spacious and contemporary with upscale amenities including a massage jet shower and a free bottle of rum punch. Thoughtful freebies include welcome drinks, champagne breakfast, and jet lag revival massages. There is no spa on-site -- surprising for a hotel of this caliber.

12. 

    This is called One&Only for good reason -- there’s nothing quite like it on Paradise Island, or anywhere in the Bahamas for that matter. The 106 rooms and suites, split into two sections, are luxurious, though those in the newer Crescent Wing are a bit more modern and stylish. Guests have access to the amenities at the Atlantis but the advantage of being removed from the crowds. Expansive manicured grounds have two outdoor pools, a romantic garden and statuary modeled after Versailles (a dream for weddings), and the endless stretch of white-sand beach and turquoise waves. Health and wellness nuts are spoilt for choice with daily yoga, an 18-hole golf course, tennis courts, an indoor/outdoorfitness center, and a Balinese-style spa with private villas. After a day in the sun, guests return to the room to find champagne and strawberries waiting, and many choose to begin their evening with sunset drinks at Jean-Georges' Dune restaurant.

13. 

    Rosewood Tucker's Point's obvious lures aside -- four pools, a private beach, a championship golf club, a tranquil spa, four restaurants, and spacious rooms featuring million-dollar views -- it’s the fine-tuned details that make this 200-acre property truly spectacular. For example, in the library just behind the lobby, old photos of Bermudian cricket matches, cabinets filled with china, and an antique Oriental rug feel like a swanky 1920s living room frozen in time. Rosewood is easily one of Bermuda’s top luxury resorts, but the rates are also higher here than anywhere else on the island. But perfection (or near-perfection) has its price, and at Tucker’s Point, it’s well worth it.

14. 

    Crowded beaches are unheard of on this private island resort where a maximum of 28 guests at a time have free range of 50 acres and three beaches. Personal boats for daily excursions, on-call service, spacious villas with fully stocked kitchens and wet bars, and a host of all-inclusive activities make Fowl Cay a standout gem in the Exumas. However, some of the villas feature outdated decor and worn furnishings that seem inconsistent with the resort's high nightly rates.

15. 

    If you ever wondered where the stars might go for R&R, look no further than the minimalist Le Sereno, a chic five-pearl boutique hotel reserved for travelers seeking all-around luxury. The simple, elegant interiors by famed designer Christian Liaigre are matched by top-notch amenities and lovely views of the ocean, and the option of in-room (or oceanfront) spa treatments as well as 24-hour room service makes for a truly pampering experience. The hotel’s restaurant, while tasty, is quite pricey -- even for fancy St. Barth's -- and the semi-private beach is not as pretty or wide as the island’s numerous other strips of sand. The hotel is best for couples who don’t mind paying a little extra and renting a car to reach the secluded romance of this hillside hotel.

16. 

    This luxury boutique is heavy on style and refinement, with British Colonial design and 28 huge multi-room suites (they start at 1,080 square feet) featuring kitchens, terraces, and high-end bathrooms. Property highlights include a lovely, tranquil pool, personal beachfront service, a small but spectacular spa, and one of the Providenciales’ most romantic dinner spots. However, its remote location on the point of the beautiful, 12-mile Grace Bay beach -- while peaceful and quiet -- makes it necessary for guests to rely on expensive taxis or car rentals to explore the island.

17. 

    The Caribbean Club is a luxury boutique hotel located on Grand Cayman’s famous Seven Mile Beach. The 37 spacious suites and villas are individually owned and exquisitely decorated, and all have full kitchens, balconies with ocean views, and marble bathrooms with separate whirlpool tubs and rainfall showers. The Club has one of the nicest stretches of beach along the Seven Mile coast with white sand, turquoise water, and calm waves. The beach and pool areas are not crowded, allowing for a quiet and serene tropical getaway. The restaurant here is one of the best on the island, but note that there is no spa.

18. 

    Easily the most luxurious resort in St. Martin, the 55-acre La Samanna resort brings tranquility to an otherwise tourist-filled island. Featuring two beautiful pools, an extensive wine cellar, a yoga and Pilates studio, a European-style spa, and the island's most pristine beach, this 81-room, eight-villa retreat is hard to beat. The vibe is about as fancy as it gets for St. Martin, so of course everything -- from the nightly rates to the dinners and spa treatments -- comes at a sky-high cost.

19. 

    Decked out in signature pink, the 112-room Sandy Lane is the creme de la creme of Barbados -- indeed, it's one of the most luxurious resorts in the world -- known for unparalleled service and distinct touches. Guest amenities run rampant; perhaps the most noteworthy is access to the super exclusive Green Monkey golf course with a separate apparel line that can only be purchased after completion. A Rolls Royce Phantom, top-notch spa, outstanding restaurants, and celebrity sightings are just a few aspects that set the elegant Palladian-style hotel apart from the rest. This is a very special place, for those who can afford it.

20. 

    Sandals is the epitome of a couples-only Caribbean mega-resort. With 11 restaurants, 373 luxurious rooms, and six pools, it's expansive, if not a bit overwhelming. You could easily get lost in the 27 acres of meticulously groomed gardens and along the pathwayswinding between buildings. The Sandals brand is evident at every turn, and the experience can feel generic, pre-packaged, and lacking in authenticity. However, this popular upscale all-inclusive with elegant rooms is definitely dedicated to creating memorable, romantic getaways. (Just be prepared to share yours with a few hundred other couples.)

21. 

    The relaxed, tranquil environment of this adults-only boutique resort is a major part of its appeal. This isn't Antigua's fanciest property, but it doesn't need to be: Simple Caribbean style (think: thatched roofs, stone, and rattan), a truly gorgeous beach, and all-inclusive food that's better than average for the island make for a winning combo. Water sports are also included in the rate, but the ocean here can get a bit rough so guests shouldn't count on being able to swim in it every day.

22. 

    The Bucuti is a romantic, adults-only resort at the southern end of Eagle Beach. This intimate, 104-room property has 14 acres of beach, and the main activity here involves lingering on the sand under shaded palapas; there's also a chic infinity edge pool. Rooms are stylish and have higher-end amenities such as iHome systems, charging docks, and built-in TVs in the bathroom mirrors. A free breakfast buffet is served daily, and dining is a highlight -- including five-course menus at the intimate gourmet spot, Carte Blanche -- and plenty more restaurants are within walking distance. The resort sees a high percentage of repeat visitors, so book early.

23. 

    This charming all-inclusive boutique resort, situated on a bluff overlooking the sea, features 57 separate cottage-style rooms painted in Caribbean pinks and blues. The rooms have a rustic style featuring exposed wood beams, and some have private plunge pools. It is a posh adults-only property catering to couples, wedding parties, and honeymooners -- but it offers a much more intimate atmosphere than massive couples-only resorts like Sandals.

In praise of bath time

Read article : In praise of bath time

ADVERTISEMENT

Sign Up for

Our free email newsletters

At least three times a week, typically on my way home from work and after a day of extreme walking, I call my wife with a delicate question.

"Uh, dear, is it OK if I take a bath tonight?"

Not that Sarah objects — she's happy to know where I'll be for any 40-minute stretch. But you don't need a survey to know that the majority of adult males are not bath-takers or that a hardened workhorse might feel sheepish asking permission to soak himself in hot water before dinner.

Baths, after all, are for little kids, muddy dogs, and women with long legs to admire. For years, our tub had been aridly dormant, as a holding pen for drying laundry, though more recently it's become a basin to hose down our schnauzer after romps in the park. Unless we were talking about an ocean swim, I'd always taken my water vertically.

That posture changed in the wake of a herniated disk in late 2013 that was so excruciating an ER doctor assumed I was passing a kidney stone and gave me an IV of morphine. In the slow recovery that followed, I endured the requisite physical therapy, acupuncture, heavy massage, core tightening, planking, and extension stretches. Then, well into this journey, a pain management doc in full scrubs advised me to forego an epidural steroid injection and try a warm bath, preferably with Epsom salts.

I hauled home a couple of bags of the stuff, poured a generous heap into the tub, climbed in, and let myself be enveloped by gushing water just like when I was 9 years old — only now I held a section of the newspaper to keep me occupied instead of the toy boat I once navigated around my knees./p>

Epsom salts are just a mix of magnesium and sulfite mild enough to be ingested as a laxative or applied to the face as a defoliating treatment. Asthmatics take them as a bronchodilator and they can be used as an additive in brewing beer. And yet, after one treatment I sensed my muscles giving back some of the inflammation that had locked me in spasm for months. My chronically sore shoulder, semi-arthritic knee, and throbbing feet also heaved a collective sigh of relief. By the time I awkwardly lifted myself from the water, I felt as if my body's tension meter had been dialed back a few notches out of the red zone.

And thus a new routine was established. Now, instead of spending early evenings pouncing on email, joining a late conference call, or collapsing on the floor to stare at the ceiling, I ease into the tub as often as I can, where I may still stare at the ceiling, but at least I'll be immersed in a soothing therapeutic bath. And it's not just the aches and tightness that slip away. Plopped in that cauldron for half-an-hour, watching the steam play on the water's surface, all the petty annoyances and grievances of the day recede, as if soothed by a poultice.

A friend suggests it's the hot water that does the work and that the Epsom salts are a placebo. Perhaps, but I like the illusion of medicine that the salts provide. There only downside is that Duane Reade often runs out of the unscented variety, and I'm forced to buy a bag of lavender-infused salts, which make me smell like I've spent a week at Canyon Ranch.

The important thing is that anyone can take a bath, but baths aren't for everybody and certain protocols should be followed to get the most out of your own submersive sessions. Here are a few of my rules of the tub.

1. No phones or other devices. Aside from high risk of droppage and fogged-up displays, the bath is not a place for virtual multi-tasking, YouTubing, and FaceTiming. Even my newspaper regularly gets dunked and I leave it dripping on the floor. A key part of the experience is being incommunicado, going to the far side of the moon — or at least the bathroom door. Anyone who makes calls from their bath has a Kardashian complex — or maybe a Winston Churchill fantasy. The British prime minister was famous for dictating letters from his scalding bath, and supposedly pelted his nearby typist with bars of soap.

Instead, use the time to watch your legs levitate from the water's high mineral content. Sweep your hand across your chest and observe a million tiny oxygen bubbles rush to the surface like balloons released at the Super Bowl. Study the prune-like wrinkles that form on your fingertips. Or enjoy the drama of seeing the water rise dangerously close to the top of the tub like an infinity pool — how high do you dare let it go? (Note: this takes practice, so have extra towels on hand.)

2. And please, no food. It's disturbing enough to see a piece of lint floating in the water. But crumbs, flakes, and poppy seeds turn the bath into a kitchen sink. One of the most revolting scenes in modern cinema is from Larry Clark's 1997 film Gummo, in which a skateboarder sits in his tub slurping a bowl of spaghetti while also consuming a chocolate bar and gulping strawberry milk. About the only thing worse is the sight of Roger Daltry bathing in a vat of Heinz baked beans from The Who's 1967 Sell Out album. If food and water are your thing, get a cabana at the swim club.

3. Of course, that also means no drinks, drugs, or alcohol. We're talking bathtub, not bachelor hot tub.

4. And no washing or shampooing. You're not here to get clean — that's for the shower, which is for action. The key to a successful bath, especially for Type A types, is accepting that passivity has its rewards. All those years you were told not to just sit there — in the tub, that's all you can do. To be fully awake and yet to accomplish nothing, go nowhere, and give not even the pretense of being busy, is a wonderful thing, especially floating on a bed of liquid Advil.

In such a suspended state the mind wanders freely and quality decisions can formulate — about work, family, your static retirement account, and even what you might do to prevent a nuclear Iran. But it's just as satisfying to focus on refitting a little fleck of grout jutting out from the bathroom tile. As executive think tanks go, the bath can be as grand or as granular as you want it. If the water temp is high enough and the salts are doing their job, you might nod off for a few moments — a nap and a bath reaches a greater plane of consciousness, though you run the risk of a splashy return. I have also caught myself flung over in an impression of Jean-Louis David's classic bathtub assassination, The Death of Marat.

Even without a watch or phone, you know when it's time to exit. The dog wanders in, someone in a far-off room calls your name ("I'm in HERE!"), or the tub feels a tad tepid. Rather than the abrupt end of a shower, the bath gently coaxes you out as the water line slowly sinks. I tilt my legs to keep them submerged as long as possible, but by the time the kneecaps breach the surface and the drain is gurgling loudly, I'm ready to take my leave and rejoin the dry world.

As the wise physiatrist predicted, my back eventually healed over time, though he noted that probably would have happened had I done nothing but sit on a beach for a year. But I plan to continue my Epsom-filled baths — they bring too much comfort and draw an important line in the day, like the three-olive martinis my dad used to drink after his own long grind at the office. In fact, I'm thinking I might try bathing on a day when I'm not exercising, maybe in the morning, maybe even with Sarah lounging in the tub across from me! On second thought, maybe not — I wouldn't want to give her the wrong idea.

ADVERTISEMENT

ADVERTISEMENT

Monday Profile: Joe P. Ruthven took risks, led the way for Lakeland - News - News Chief

Read article : Monday Profile: Joe P. Ruthven took risks, led the way for Lakeland - News - News Chief

Founder of The Ruthvens warehouse business started small, building large

Marilyn Meyer @marilyn_ledger

LAKELAND — Joe P. Ruthven had been telling his children he’d retire when he turned 90, but now he’s thinking 100 would be a better age.

At 90 years and 1 month old, he walks two to three miles several times a week with his wife, Judy, and follows her lead in eating a healthy vegetarian diet. He takes only one prescription medication; his energy is strong.

A few hours behind the wheel of his car is no problem so he can easily visit any of the 85 properties built by the warehouse development firm he founded and owns, The Ruthvens. All the properties are within 25 miles of the downtown office at 41 Lake Morton Drive.

“Joe P. Ruthven’s impact on Lakeland is huge,” said Weymon Snuggs, chief operating officer for Citizens Bank & Trust. “Through his warehouse development business, he has helped bring new companies into the area, creating jobs for our community while providing space for businesses of all sizes.”

Ruthven knows what it is like to be a struggling small businessman, to dream, take risks and put in long, hard, worrisome hours. He likes to give a boost to small tenants and is delighted when they succeed.

“I know of several situations that a business was having some challenges and he was working with them,” Snuggs said. “Joe and his family are so great in the care that they give the tenants. These are not just someone leasing their property; these are people with relationships that Joe and the other Ruthven family members have built.”

Although The Ruthvens owns 3.5 million square feet of warehouse space, the company is still growing. Showing his company’s warehousing complexes near Lakeland Linder Regional Airport, Ruthven points out acreages he’s purchased, some ready to go into development, others still lying fallow.

“Have you ever seen so many trucks?” he asks, as he pulls alongside a 100,000-square-foot building leased to Forward Air, a logistics company that distributes goods to retailers, employing 100 workers and 50 drivers.

He rattles off the variety of products distributed or manufactured under The Ruthvens-leased space: cotton balls, tomatoes, Purina foods, spice packets, caskets, rum, water, pharmaceuticals, clothes, vitamins and a wide variety of suppliers to Publix.

“Joe was ahead of the curve in warehousing, before it was in vogue, long before Amazon and O’Reilly’s came to Lakeland,” said Gene Strickland, a former Lakeland city manager who became friends with Ruthven in the late 1960s and early 1970s when Ruthven was on the City Commission.

“Many times The Ruthvens puts in a small unit, a company leases it and grows into a bigger unit,” Strickland said. “I credit Joe with not only what he did in building the warehouses but the spinoff of what he did, the ripple effect.”

Ralph Allen, a financial adviser and chairman of the family-owned firm Allen & Co, “I am sure if it was not for The Ruthven efforts, many businesses would not have started business interests in Lakeland.

"The Ruthvens were able to be a partner of the city of Lakeland, the Lakeland Economic Development Council and the Chamber of Commerce to convince outside businesses that Lakeland was business friendly, a good place to open plants and businesses," he said. "Joe has always been a super salesman for Lakeland.”

Ruthven said arrival of Amazon’s million-square-foot warehouse/fulfillment center has been a huge boon to the Lakeland economy.

“When companies in New York or California or anywhere in the country or abroad hear that Amazon came here, they know Lakeland has been checked out thoroughly and they want to come too,” Ruthven said.

Keeping The Ruthvens’ buildings in the 100,000 square-foot and under range allows the company the latitude to recover if a leasee moves out, or worse, if a tenant’s business fails, Ruthven said.

The early years

Joe Perry Ruthven was born on July 9, 1927, to Agnes and Joe Ruthven, the third of five children, on a small farm in Chesterfield County, S.C. There was no electricity, no running water; chores began at 5 a.m. and picked back up after school.

He grew up during the height of the Great Depression in one of the poorest counties in South Carolina. He recalls one sharecropper family from a nearby farm so destitute their children went naked until his mother made them clothes out of flour sacks, and later, regular clothes.

And he recalls the changes that came after President Franklin’s Roosevelt’s Work Progress Administration and other relief programs came to the area.

His family did relatively well and each year his dad tried to add 10 acres to the farm where they grew tobacco, cotton and other crops, he said.

But he realized early-on that he did not want to be a farmer, staring at the rear end of a mule, he said. Still, the work ethic of a sunrise to sunset day stuck.

“I guess I carried that over into the rest of my life,” Ruthven said.

He had graduated from high school just before his 16th birthday and spent a couple of semesters at the University of South Carolina before enlisting in the Navy at 18. He was in boot camp when the Japanese surrendered, ending World War II.

While thousands upon thousands of troops were returning from overseas, he was assigned tug boat duty at Norfolk, Va., helping pull into harbor the huge ships bringing the battle-weary men back to American soil.

They would discharge 4,000 to 5,000 men as they came off the ship, pay in hand and nowhere to go, except maybe downtown Norfolk, before heading home, Ruthven said.

"We and everyone from the area knew not to go downtown after a ship had come in; it was wild," he said.

“But I’ve often thought it would have been better for the men if they would have sent them to a base for a while; let them acclimate," he said. "But they came directly off the ships and back into civilian life.”

When Ruthven was discharged from the Navy, “I stopped by the farm only three days, long enough to get my clothes and head back to the university," he said. "I knew if I stayed longer, Dad would have me behind a mule.” 

Ruthven said, that he as walked back on campus his first day, he saw a couple of girls shooting pool and stopped to introduce himself. One of them was Jeanette "JJ" Chiles of Lakeland, who would later become his wife. The couple had two sons and a daughter. JJ died in 1982. In 1984, he remarried, to Judy Story.  

The GI bill paid his tuition and, for spending money, he took a part-time job with JC Penney.

Upon graduation with a business degree in 1948, Penney's offered him a full-time job at $200 a month which sounded OK but then BF Goodrich gave him a better offer, $250 a month, he said.

So he went into the tire business. He moved his growing family three times as he went up the management ladder over the next decade.

Coming to Lakeland

In 1957, he and friend Eugene “Blackie” Black decided to start a tire store in Lakeland. Ruthven’s father-in-law Lawton Chiles Sr., gave Jeanette a lot at 600 Memorial Blvd. for the store.

After hiring an architect to design the building and a carpenter to pull permits and supervise, the two partners supplied the labor. Five months later, they opened an OK Tires.

They had spent most of their combined $10,000 on the move and construction so struggled to stock the store, but managed to do it after securing a $1,000 loan, plus securing a supply of retreads and used tires.

That first year, he and Black did all the work: sales, changing tires, bookkeeping and keeping the place shined. At the end of the year, they had made $7,500. After that, they not only survived, they grew and started hiring employees, including Ruthven’s two brothers, Jerry and William Ruthven. Eventually, the partners opened a second OK Tires store.

In the late 1960s, the home company, OK Tires and Rubber, wanted a warehouse in Central Florida and asked Ruthven if he could find a 10,000-square-foot space near a railway. 

"I was interested in branching out into real estate," he said.

After looking at available spaces, he decided to build the warehouse and lease it back to the company. A friend, Kirk McKay, agreed to sell him 10 acres on Mine & Mill Road with only $100 down and a personal note, starting Ruthven on a new career. 

The acreage was large enough that he was able to double the square footage and quickly found a second tenant for the other 10,000 square feet.  

In those early days, Ruthven bought most of his lots with $100 down and a personal note — not something anyone could do now, he said. “A lot of the people had inherited property and were paying taxes on it so wanted to get rid of the land.”

Financing the construction was another issue, especially because he was building on speculation, something others were not doing. He would go from bank to bank trying to get loans, he said.

“I would get turned down about three times more often than I was approved,” Ruthven said.

But after the loan officers realized he was able to lease the space and he was making the mortgage payments, it became easier to get financing.

“I don’t think we have ever missed a mortgage payment,” Ruthven said, although there were times when he was worried whether he could put groceries on the table.

In 1974, after 17 years in the tire business, he and Black sold OK Tires, Black’s wife wanting to return to South Carolina and Ruthven wanting to go full time into real estate.

The office

When Jeanette Chiles and Joe P. Ruthven married on Sept. 4, 1949, his parents stayed at the Lakeshore Hotel at 41 Lake Morton Plaza. Some 25 years later, Ruthven bought the old 32-room hotel.

“I thought it would be fun to run a hotel,” but it only took a day to change his mind, he said. That first morning, a retired professor, a 97-year-old man, who rented a room came downstairs and said he was going to take a bath.

Ruthven said, OK, but then the old man said someone had to sit with him.

“I told the woman who was working the desk with me, you sit with him and I’ll stay at the front desk to answer the phone."

From there as he watched the comings and goings, he realized a staff member kept coming from the back room to get clean sheets.

“It took me until 6 o’clock that night to figure out they were running a small prostitution ring out of the back room — $10 whether they stayed an hour or all night. I fired them all.”

“It was only two blocks from City Hall and no one over there knew what was going on,” Ruthven said, still amazed more than four decades later.

Ruthven was looking for an office so decided to convert the stately hotel. It took two years to reconfigure the 1920-era building. Since then, it has been renovated twice to fit the needs of The Ruthvens.

“It is challenging” to keep up a 100-year-old building, he said, recounting a recent country-wide search for tiles when the roof leaked.

Politics

When Ruthven and Jeanette Chiles married, her younger brother, Lawton, was still a student. But Lawton Chiles later became one of Lakeland’s most famous native sons, a Democratic politician who served in the Florida House and Florida Senate through most of 1958 through 1970, the U.S. Senate from 1971 through 1989, and as governor of Florida from 1990 until his death on Dec. 12, 1998.

Even before he met his brother-in-law, Joe P. Ruthven was a confirmed Democrat.

“One day when I was about 11 or 12, I came home from school and there was a truck with lumber in it," he said. "Several young men with the Civilian Conservation Corps were there to build our family an outhouse.”

Seeing what Roosevelt and the Democrats were willing to do to help his family and his community, “I decided right then I would be a Democrat for the rest of my life.”

Ruthven said he and other family members often had helped Chiles with campaign duties so it was not much of a leap when he he decided to run for Lakeland City Commission. He served on the commission from 1969 through 1971, the last year as mayor. Schools were being integrated and racial tensions were high, Ruthven said.

A 1971 editorial in The Ledger summing up the year and Ruthven's service said, “racial problems at Lakeland High School drew the mayor into the news as an intermediary. His Youth and Adult Community Relations Committees opened unprecedented links of communications between the races in the city, the school got a new principal and the year ended on a note of optimism.”

And, the editorial continued, “long-simmering tensions in the Washington Park Homes public housing project surfaced strongly this year, leading to a barrage of charges and counter-charges among tenants and Housing Authority officials. Again the mayor became involved, this time with a bi-racial investigation committee which promised to hear all viewpoints and seek long-range ways to improve the relationship between tenants and city.”

Ruthven said Dr. John S. Jackson, an African-American physician, worked closely with him; the two attended community meetings together, bolstering one another. And at the schools, Willy Speed, a coach at Kathleen High School worked alongside him.

There was a lot of unrest and “I am glad that time is behind us,” Ruthven said.

Marilyn Meyer can be reached at marilyn.meyer@theledger.com or 863-802-7558. Follow her on Twitter @marilyn_ledger.

Bath, Bath and Beyond in Budapest

Read article : Bath, Bath and Beyond in Budapest

Very. Am I having fun?

I'm not sure.

Signs on the wall announce that the first sauna is 45 to 50 degrees Celsius (113 to 122 Fahrenheit), the second 50 to 60 degrees (122 to 140), and the third so hot I couldn't open the door. When a woman gestures me away from the third room, I smile, thinking she's friendly. In rapid English, she disproves that, scolding, "Your sweat is getting on the chair! You need a sheet!" To my chagrin, I see that everyone but me is sitting on a sheet, which I've left in my locker. Pointing to my feet, she says, "And you'll catch a disease without shoes!" I thank her with as much dignity as I can muster, and head for the swimming pool. On my way out, in the lobby, I buy a pair of bright turquoise plastic slippers.

Buda, on the west side of this two-sided city, is particularly rich in thermal springs, and all but one of the baths I want to visit are on this side of the Danube. The Rudas baths are a 20-minute stroll from the Gellert, but it's too soon for another immersion. First, I spend a few hours in Castle Hill, the restored district of old houses, museums and the Buda Palace. Tucked in a side street is tiny Ruszwurm, a source of legendary pastries since 1827. (In the tourist season, it's difficult to get a table; in November, it's easy.) After coffee and its pastry specialty, a cream slice, I head south again.

St. Elizabeth of Hungary reportedly cured lepers near the Rudas baths, using the local springs; the Knights of St. John founded a hospice here in the Middle Ages; and the Turks built an octagonal pool in 1566. Fortunately, the pool, lighted by the characteristic star-shaped openings in its dome and circled by an arcade with five smaller pools, is still in use. Unfortunately for me, it has been restricted to men since 1936.

Women may use the swimming pool (an uszoda, rather than a gyogyfurdo, a thermal pool where one does not swim) and sauna, which I decide to do, for the sake of its historic premises. But its run-down exterior, on a busy street, is not promising, and the entrance hall is dismal.

I stare enviously at a picture of men in steamy water under a moody, romantic dome, but that's the closest I can come. In the clinical dressing room, I learn through sign language that I need a bathing cap, which I have, and a towel, which I don't.

Built in 1918, the swimming pool has an old-fashioned dignity, and about 30 men and woman swim decorously back and forth. We sweat closely packed in the small sauna, but no one, I notice, is sitting on a towel. Apparently, each bathhouse is a separate principality, with its own rules, often unspoken. Afterward, I dry off as much as possible using the dressing room's hair dryer, and make a mental note: take slippers, bathing cap, towel.

Next morning, the subway transports me to the end of Andrassy Road, to the Varosliget (City Park) and the Szechenyi baths. Although built in 1913, the vast domed bathhouse looks like a Baroque palace -- an aquatic palace, in fact, since it houses 15 pools as well as saunas and steam-baths.

Continue reading the main story

Bathers must shower first, but there's no soap. (Memo to self: take soap.)

Surrounded by statues of water gods and dolphins, the three grand outdoor pools include one where jets propel you around in a slightly out-of-control circle, a central one for swimming and a hot one where bathers can play chess on floating boards in the water. Sitting outside in steaming water in late fall, watching lovers kissing, boys ogling girls, girls singing under jets of water, is positively sybaritic.

In contrast to the amusement park atmosphere outside, the interior thermal pools are grubbier. Mineral-laden water is hard on plaster walls, and the cherubs, faces and festoons that decorate them have seen better days. It's comfortably full on a weekday morning, as Budapesters from their teens to 70's amble from barrel-vaulted rooms to octagons to rotundas, each with a pool heated to a different temperature.

On another day, I walk across the Margit Bridge to a pleasant Buda neighborhood dotted with antiques shops. Built in 1894 as part of a hospital, the Lukacs baths are approached through a courtyard lined with ochre-colored classical revival buildings. On the walls, stone plaques from around the world proclaim the cures wrought by the waters; one from Mary Davis of New York in 1937 lauding the "miraculous springs" that ended her pain is typical.

Nothing in the baths turns out to be as rewarding as the leafy, evocative courtyard. The Lukacs has two large outdoor pools, still functioning in November but too cold for me. Inside, the very hot pool and the cool one are out of commission, which leaves the remaining four pools crowded. I admire, as always, the nonchalance with which the Budapesters stand center stage in the sauna and slough off their dry skin with abrasive mitts. On my way out, I stop in the pump room to drink some of the water, said to be beneficial for disorders of the intestine, stomach and bile tract. The attendant hands me a beer keg of warm, sulphurous water, and I manage to down two swallows.

On Friday, one of the days reserved for women at the Kiraly baths, I cross the Margit Bridge and walk south to a building topped with a big copper dome and three smaller ones.

Begun by the pasha Arslan for the Buda garrison in 1565, the Kiraly later acquired a classical front that only partly obscures its beating Turkish heart. Inside, up a winding stone staircase with Ionic columns, I find a changing room and a sign in Hungarian, German and English telling me that swimming suits must be worn. But, after I've showered (without soap, which I've forgotten again), I step into a pool populated by five elderly women; two wear only shower caps and the other three nothing at all. (The Rough Guide says the swimsuit rule was instituted in the 90's, when the baths became a gay hangout, so perhaps it's enforced only on men's days.) I wish I knew what the women are talking about so animatedly. Are they complaining about husbands, high prices, daughters-in-law, or bragging about grandchildren and great-children?

The main thermal pool, under a sky-lit dome, is dim and atmospheric. Off to the side is a hot (104 degrees) pool, and under the smaller domes, there's a steam room, a cold pool and more showers. In the large pool, two slim young women in red swimsuits talk about the shadow economy, one in Hungarian-accented English, the other in German-accented English.

The party of nude, older women joins us, still in voluble conversation. The mist and rushing water make it hard to overhear and easy to drift into your own private bath.

Another dowager, wearing only a shower cap and wielding a cane, makes her superbly deliberate way to the sauna, and I follow. There, two women are drying their bath sheets on the radiators while eating sandwiches. There's something elemental and intimate about this scene -- women of at least three generations soaking, washing, eating or not, talking or not. Until now, I've been interested but not moved by the baths, taking a rather anthropological stance when not actively embarrassed by my ignorance of the rules. This is different: I decide I like ladies' day at the Kiraly baths.

Continue reading the main story

On my way to the locker room, I find what looks like a hospital ward, lined with 20 cots. In this resting room, a transition between the baths and the busy world, women are napping, reading a newspaper, eating sausage. I lie on a cot under a blanket and watch two masseuses in the next room at their vigorous work. At the window, a woman submerges her feet in a tub and looks out over Budapest. Their simplicity and quiet notwithstanding, the Kiraly baths have survived the Turks, the Hapsburgs, the Nazis, the Communists and, so far, modern capitalism. Long may they continue.

Everyone into the pool, and then the restaurant

The Baths

The Gellert baths, Kelenhegyi ut 2-4, telephone (36-1) 466-6166, charges $14.50, at 200 forints to the dollar, for a ticket to the baths and swimming pools, with a refund of $4.50 if you stay less than two hours, $3 if you stay two to three hours. If it's four hours, there's no refund. Open daily, from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m.

The Rudas baths, Dobrentei ter 9, (36-1) 375-8373, charges $3.50 for the use of sauna and swimming pool, $5 (men only) for steam bath, and $9 (men only) for steam bath and thermal pools. Open daily from 6 a.m.; closed at 1 p.m. on weekends.

The Szechenyi baths, Allatkerti korut 11, (36-1) 363-3210, operates on a system similar to the Gellert's: $8.50 is the charge for use of pools and lockers, with a refund of $4.50 for a stay of less than two hours, $2.50 for less than three hours and $1 for less than four hours. Open daily 6 a.m. to 7 p.m.

The Lukacs baths, Frankl Leo ut 25-29, (36-1) 326-1695, charges $7. Refunds: less than two hours $2.50, less than three hours $1.50, less than four hours 50 cents. Open daily from 6 a.m. to 7 p.m. (to 5 on weekends).

The Kiraly baths, Fo utca 84, (36-1) 202-3688, are reserved for women on Monday, Wednesday and Friday (open 7 a.m. to 6 p.m.), for men on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday (9 a.m. to 8 p.m.). Admission is $5.

Lodging and Dining

I stayed at the new NH Hotel, Vigszinhaz utca 3, (36-1) 814-0000, fax (36-1) 814-0100, close to the Margit Bridge on the Pest side. A sleek, angular contrast to curvaceous Budapest, NH has 160 rooms, arranged around an inner courtyard, with luxurious bedding and dark modern furniture. Ask for a room overlooking the Vigszinhaz comedy theater. Depending on the season, a double room rents for $182 to $250.

Ruszwurm coffeehouse, Szentharomsag ter 7, is open every day from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. Coffee and a pastry cost about $3.50.

Continue reading the main story

Kiskakukk, Pozsonyi utca 12, (36-1) 450-0829, is a handsome, friendly restaurant known for Hungarian specialties. Two can dine on mushroom soup, venison in red wine with noodles, and dessert crepes with a bottle of wine for about $45. Open daily, for lunch and dinner.

Near the Basilica, Café Kor, Sas utca 17, (36-1) 311-0053, is a popular cafe with bentwood chairs, green-shaded lamps and a menu full of local favorites for snacks and meals. Goose liver pâté with Cognac will cost $11.40, letcho (a melange of tomatoes and peppers) with sausages and eggs costs $10. For afternoon cake, try somloi, a sponge cake with chocolate sauce and whipped cream ($3.45). Cash only; closed Sunday. KATHERINE ASHENBURG

KATHERINE ASHENBURG writes about architecture for Toronto Life magazine.

Continue reading the main story

‘Twin Peaks: The Return’ Episode 14 – “We Are Like the Dreamer”

Read article : ‘Twin Peaks: The Return’ Episode 14 – “We Are Like the Dreamer”

An episode of connections.We’re so close to the end I can taste it, but I can’t identify the flavor. With only five episodes before the conclusion, whatever that may be, the plot is still ramping upwards. This week’s episode was, for lack of a better word, PERFECT. It had the artistry of episode 8 and more meaningful narrative clues than any other episode this season and maybe in the entire series. I almost fainted at least four times during the episode, which it took me 90 minutes to get through because I kept having to pause and process. Deep breath, Peakies, here we go:The story continues in Buckhorn, South Dakota, with Gordon Cole making a phone call to an old acquaintance: Lucy in Twin Peaks. After a brief catch-up, Lucy connects Cole to Sheriff Truman, whose call he’s returning. Cole thinks he’s getting Harry, but it’s Frank, who shares his brother’s condition with Cole, then goes on to bring the director up to speed on the missing pages from Laura Palmer’s diary Hawk found hidden in the station bathroom which seem to suggest there are two Coopers. Frank thought Cole might want to know this, even if the Sheriff doesn’t know what it all means. Cole can’t comment but to thank him.Elsewhere in Buckhorn, Albert is sharing the details of Blue Rose Task Force case #1, the one that “started this whole thing,” with new recruit Tammy Preston. In 1975, he says, two young agents were sent to investigate a murder in Olympia, Washington. The agents arrived to arrest the suspect, one Lois Duffy, at a motel, but before they could apprehend her, they heard a gunshot from her room so busted in and found not one but two women there, one dying from a gunshot wound, and one holding a gun. Lois was the wounded one, and shared with them her last words: “I’m like the blue rose.” Then Albert says, almost like an incantation, “She smiles, she dies, then disappears before their eyes.” The other woman, the one holding the gun who’s screaming her head off now, is also Lois Duffy. Not a twin – they checked – but another Lois. This Lois goes to trial for murdering the other Lois, which she swears she didn’t do, but before the verdict comes in, the living Lois hangs herself. Now Albert reveals the names of the two young investigating agents – Gordon Cole and Phillip Jeffries – and asks Tammy what’s the one question she should be asking back? She knows: what’s the significance of the blue rose? The same question Sam Stanley (Kiefer Sutherland) asked Chet Desmond (Chris Isaak) in Fire Walk With Me but Desmond didn’t answer. Albert asks if Tammy also knows the answer. She says a blue rose doesn’t occur in nature, like Lois’ disappearing death, it’s a conjured thing, “a tulpa,” which is a Buddhist term for a concept in mysticism of a being or object which is created through sheer spiritual or mental discipline. It’s also translated as “magical emanation,” “conjured thing,” or “phantom.” Sounds to me like a dream made real, something one imagines and then somehow translates out of imagination.Courtesy ShowtimeCole interrupts to let them know Diane’s on her way. Sure enough, she enters and immediately lights up. Cole asks her about the last night she saw Cooper, not in the prison but at her apartment in Philly all those years ago; he wants to know if Cooper mentioned Garland Briggs. Diane doesn’t want to talk about that night – we remember an insinuation of sexual assault – but Cole persists. Diane says Cooper did mention Briggs. Albert takes over and brings her up to speed on the Briggs case, how he died, or was supposed to have died, and how he really died. He also reveals what they found in Briggs’ stomach, the wedding band inscribed to Dougie from Janey-E. Diane seems to know what this means, and then drops the biggest connective bomb of the entire third season so far: she has a half-sister named Janey who’s married to a man named Douglas Jones; everybody calls him Dougie, and her Janey-E. Last she heard they lived in Vegas, but she doesn’t know for sure, she and Janey are estranged, or, more specifically, Diane hates her. They haven’t spoken in years, and it would seem like Diane has never even seen this Dougie, as he looks exactly like Cooper (at least to us, and to him. We’ve seen him seeing his reflection in a mirror, but I don’t think we’ve seen a picture of Dougie to this point. He could look like someone else to the world). Cole jumps off her recollection and has Tammy get the Las Vegas FBI branch on the horn. He tells the agent, Randall Headley, to get him everything they have on Dougie and Janey-E, pronto. Cole then thanks Diane, dismissing her. Cole shares what he learned from Frank Truman with Albert and Tammy, as well as the fact that last night he had another Monica Bellucci dream, referencing the actual, beautiful Italian actress of such films as Irreversible and Matrix Revolutions: he was in Paris on a case when Monica called and asked to meet him at a certain café, she had something to tell him.The picture shifts to black-and-white, the scene to a Parisian café. Monica and Cole meet, and Cole says Cooper was there, only he couldn’t see Dale’s face. Monica was very pleasant and she’d brought friends, a man and a woman. They all had coffee. We see Monica shed a single tear, then she recites what Cole calls “the ancient phrase:” “we are like the dreamer, who dreams and then lives inside the dream.” Why do I feel like Lynch just gave away the whole shebang right there? Cole told Monica he understood, and then she asked a question for her coda, the same question we were all thinking after what she just said: “Who is the dreamer?” Any guesses? I’ll save my speculation for the end of the recap. In the dream, Cole says a very powerful and uneasy feeling came over him. He says Monica directed him to look at something over his shoulder, where Cole saw himself from long ago. What he’s seeing is the scene from Fire Walk With Me when Coop comes in to tell him about a dream he had, the 10:10 February 16^th dream. Is the implication that we’re all in Coop’s dream? Which Coop, though? This, of course, is the infamous Phillip Jeffries scene, and right now I’m sweating I’m so excited. Sure enough, we see Jeffries (David Bowie, to whom the episode is dedicated), specifically, the part of the scene where he points at Coop and asks “who do you think this is, there?” For a quarter-century Twin Peaks fans have been debating this one facet of the scene, and now it feels like a revelation is on the horizon. What kind of Moebius strip are Lynch and Frost plotting? And which Coop was in Philly, then, bad posing as good? Conundrums on top of conundrums. Cole had forgotten about all this until just now, as had Albert, but now they’re both remembering it, and recognizing its significance.In Twin Peaks, Andy, Hawk and Bobby are setting up lunch, but it’s really just a sting to arrest Chad for his part in the Chinese designer drug traffic.A fog settles over Ghostwood Forest and Frank, Hawk, Andy and Bobby are now preparing to ascend the mountain to reach the coordinates left by Major Briggs. Electrical wires hum tellingly overhead: there’s power in the air. They start off. Shades of Coop, Harry, Doc Hayward, and Hawk hiking up to Jacques Renault’s cabin in the original series; I’m hoping for a character-fan shot or a Log Lady run-in, but get neither. Our foursome arrives at the site of what’s left of the station where the Major worked and was “killed.” Bobby went inside the place a couple times when he was younger but doesn’t know what his dad did there, it was all classified. He just remembers a bunch of machines. There is one spot on the property Bobby knows all about, though, Jack Rabbit’s Palace, basically an old tree stump, but to Bobby it was a father-son bonding place where he and the Major traded tall tales. It’s also the starting point of the Major’s directions. They put soil in their pockets as per his instructions, then Bobby mentions a cautionary memory: his dad always told him never to wander around here without him. I bet they all wish the good Major was there now. They press on until they round a corner and find a cloud, fog, steam, mist, smoke, or something of the sort, but very localized, covering just one spot. Light flashes, crackles more like it, from an unknown source. Then the smoke or whatever clears and we recognize the locale: Glastonbury Grove, Twin Peaks’ entrance to The Black Lodge. The circle of 12 sycamore trees, the ring of stones holding a puddle of scorched oil, it’s all there. And so is a body, female, naked. They turn her over. It’s the eyeless woman from the inside of the tower overlooking the purple ocean, the woman who led good Coop to the cube in space then fell into the cosmos right after turning on an electrical devise (like the one in the Dutchman’s quarters that triggered the belching of the Laura bubble in episode 8), and right before we saw the floating head of Major Briggs. Naido is her name according to the credits, and she is alive. She is trying to speak but her words are that same scrambled whisper-echo from the last time we saw her, thus indecipherable. Frank looks at his watch and confirm it is now 2:53, the time the Major’s instructions said they were supposed to be there. Right on time, another vortex – like the one Cole experienced in Buckhorn outside the abandoned house where they found the body of Ruth Davenport with the Twin Peaks coordinates on her arm, these coordinates, most likely – opens in the sky. This time they all see it, and it seems to cause Naido pain. Andy, who is holding her hand, drops it, hypnotized by the vortex, and stands. It’s like something is calling him. Light envelops him and he blinks out of the scene, only to reappear a second later in the Dutchman’s quarters. The Dutchman approaches and sits opposite Andy, just as he did Cooper in the season three premiere.“I am the Fireman,” the Dutchman says, and raises his right hand. Andy is holding something now, like a large rose made of paper, very angular and with a spout in its center that spits smoke into the air. This smoke is sucked away through a skylight or something like it, a large, domed, lit circle. Andy looks at this, his concentration slipping into it. It goes dark. We see the box monster (billed in the credits as The Experiment), the mucus strand it regurgitated that birthed BOB, the convenience store, the Woodsmen milling about it – essentially all we were shown in episode 8, including “Gotta light?” guy. Then scenes from the original series: the unknown student running across the TPHS quad upon learning of the death of Laura Palmer, the curtains of the Lodge, Laura’s homecoming photo flanked by reflections of an angel, I assume the same angel who came to Laura at the end of Fire Walk With Me. Then Naido, unresponsive on the ground. Then the two Coops, good and bad, side-by-side. Then a ringing phone, Andy and Lucy in the Sheriff’s station, everything trembling. He’s showing her something, Lucy, but we don’t see what. Naido again, trying to speak. Then the 6 on the telephone pole from Fat Trout Trailer Park by which long ago Teresa Banks’ trailer parked, the pole by which, presently, I think Becky, Shelly’s daughter, might park her trailer. Then the message is over.Courtesy ShowtimeAndy blinks out of the Lodge and back to Jack Rabbit’s Palace, where the others are waiting for him (because of the soil in their pockets, I think, it’s a metaphysical anchor that tethers them to reality). In his arms Andy holds Naido. They have to get her down the mountain, he tells the others, as she’s very important and there are people who want her dead. She’s fine physically, he says, but needs to be in a cell for her safety. He tells them to say not a word to anyone. They don’t object. In an aside, Frank asks Hawk what happened to them out there, but neither can remember.Courtesy ShowtimeIn a cell at the station, Lucy helps Naido into some spare pajamas. Chad heckles Andy from his own cell nearby, but gets an earful from the Deputy for his thoughts. A drunk in another cell with a busted mouth parrots their conversation. In her cell after Andy and Lucy leave, Naido feels the air and makes her strange sounds, which the drunk also imitates. This drives Chad bonkers, but he deserves it. The drunk bleeds profusely from his mouth.Across town at The Great Northern, a pair of security guards are on break. One of them is James Hurley, who mentions they have one more job then they can hit The Road House. The other guard, Freddie Sykes, a young Brit who has a glove on his right hand that makes it difficult to crack nuts, knows James just wants to see Renee – the girl who cried tears of joy while watching him sing last week – then adds this interesting tidbit: Renee’s married. What is it with James and unavailable women? Laura was with Bobby when she and James were together, Donna was technically with Mike Nelson when James moved on to her, Evelyn Marsh was married when they had their tryst, and now Renee too is bound in the eyes of god to another man. Get a new type, dude, for your own safety. And side-note: “Freddie Sykes” is the name of the one-armed man, the true killer, in The Fugitive movie (in the TV show the one-armed man was called Fred Johnson); this is not the only such reference in Twin Peaks – the human name of MIKE, the one-armed man of Twin Peaks, is Philip Gerard, which is the same name as the detective in The FugitiveTV series (Sam Gerard in the movie). Coincidence? Not bloody likely, especially since Freddie, like MIKE, has a limb issue. James mentions today’s his birthday, then changes the subject by asking about Freddie’s glove. Freddie says he can’t take it off, he tried once but bled like crazy, it’s a part of him. James asks where he got it, but Freddie isn’t supposed to tell, he doesn’t think James will believe him. James convinces him otherwise. Freddie was living in London six months ago. After a night in the pub he’s walking home alone and turns into an alley. He gets a peculiar feeling like he’s wasting his life, out drinking when he should be helping people. Then, for some reason, he jumped onto a high stack of boxes and above him a vortex opened. A Lodge vortex, sounds like, especially when Freddie says the vortex sucked him up and put him in front of a fella called himself “the Fireman.” The Fireman tells him: “Go to the hardware store near your flat and there you’ll find a rack of green gardening gloves. One pair will already be open, with only a right-handed glove inside. Purchase that package and place that glove on your right hand. That hand will now possess the power of an enormous pile driver,” and then poof! He was back at home. Freddie did as he was told, found what he was supposed to find, but the hardware store clerk didn’t want to sell it to him since the package was open. Freddie insisted, but the clerk held firm. Freddie tossed the cash on the counter and headed for the door, putting on the glove as he went. The clerk attacked him and in defense Freddie popped him with his gloved hand. It almost killed the clerk, and in the moment Freddie remembered one more thing the Fireman told him: “Once you put the glove on, go to Twin Peaks, Washington, in the United States of America, and there you will find your destiny.” So here he is. James, and I, am flabbergasted. He wants to know why Freddie thinks the Fireman chose him, a question Freddy asked the Fireman. The answer: “Why not you?” Furthermore, when he went to buy a ticket to America, he was told he already had one. It was all arranged. Help me out here, gang – what’s a word that means painfully curious?James goes to check the furnace in the boiler room, the last job of the night. It’s predictably creep AF, and it has me thinking of the boiler room in which BOB revealed himself and his intentions at the end of the international pilot back in 1989. The whole place is throbbing with power, with electricity. But nothing happens, nothing we see, at least, only a bit of attention on a closed door.Cut to Elk’s Point #9 Bar. A figure walking towards it in the dark, smoking. Shades of a Woodsman. It’s Sarah Palmer. She enters the bar and bellies up, orders a Bloody Mary. Seems like foreshadowing to me. At the end of the bar there’s a man with a ponytail and a ball cap nursing a shot and a beer. He notices Sarah. Doesn’t seem like a good notice. He pounds the rest of his shot and approaches. “Truck You,” his shirt says, so you know he’s classy. Turns out he means to hit on Sarah, but she wants to be left alone. Truck You has a hard time taking a hint, and in fact he’s a rude prick. Offensively rude. He tells her she eats cunt. She says she’ll eat him. He finds this funny; I realllllly don’t think he should. Sarah is too calm, scary-calm, dangerous-calm. Truck You threatens physical violence, and then the shit hits the fan. Sarah TAKES OFF HER FUCKING FACE, just like Laura did in the premiere, but where there was light behind Laura’s face, behind Sarah’s there is murky darkness and a bony hand, fingers splayed. In a crackling voice Sarah asks Truck You, “Do you really want to fuck with this?” Hell-to-the-fuck-no, sir, you do not. But it’s too late. She bites his throat out, then screams and acts like she doesn’t know what happened. The bartender naturally questions this. The cops are called. Sarah is unconcerned. Or should I call her BOB?Courtesy ShowtimeThen we’re at The Road House at a table with yet two more lovely young ladies, Sophie (Emily Stofle) and Megan (Shane Lynch, but not related to David; she is, however, the daughter of actress Kelly Lynch). They’re talking about how Megan’s been hanging out at what Sophie calls a “nuthouse” getting high, which Megan denies, explaining she only gets high at home. Then another connective tissue. Sophie asks Megan if she’s seen Billy, Audrey’s Billy. Megan hasn’t, not for a few days. Seems like the running answer around town. Sophie heard Megan was among the last to see him. It’s true. Megan was in the kitchen with her mom and maybe her uncle, and they saw Billy jump a six-foot fence into their yard, running like he was being chased. He busted into their kitchen with blood coming out of his nose and mouth. Everyone started screaming, natch. Billy hung his head in the sink, then turned to look at them, then ran out the back. Sophie can’t believe they didn’t tell anyone, but Megan wants to know what were they supposed to tell? She says she knows Billy and her mom had a thing, and that means either Audrey has a daughter as well, or Tina does, and Tina was also banging Billy, which would explain why Audrey doesn’t care for her. Megan confirms this latter theory, her mom is the mysterious Tina. Anyway, Billy took off and left blood all over their kitchen. Megan still can’t remember if her uncle was there. This “uncle” has to be someone we know, or at least someone of significance. Then the music starts, Lissie, and the episode ends.___This hour was all about connecting storylines: Diane and company to Dougie Jones, to Twin Peaks; Cole’s dream hearkening back to the Jeffries scene in Fire Walk With Me; Andy et al to The Black Lodge and Cooper’s guide Naido; Freddie’s mysterious connection to The Black Lodge, to the Fireman/Dutchman/Giant/?????; Megan, Tina, Billy and Audrey, the unknown uncle – the strands are lining up to be braided. It was a masterful episode, no doubt about it, and one that hints at the structural genius of the series, how the pieces have been in places for decades waiting to align into a complete if mystifying narrative. There’s never been anything like this in the history of television or film, there’s never been a narrative this complex and captivating, this ingenious and insidious, this nuanced and multi-layered. This makes at least the second time – this season – that Twin Peaks has changed how its medium tells stories. TV, more so than film, is a mainstream art form, meaning it’s largely designed for various common denominators. Twin Peaks isn’t designed for anyone, for any standards, or for any expectations. It’s independent TV, for lack of a better term, it doesn’t adhere to the medium’s restrictions, it reshapes them. If you’re out there right now writing your first TV series spec, start over, the rules have changed.There’s a showdown coming, one bound to be set in The BlackLodge just as the showdown at the end of season two was, but if you’re expecting a clear-and-true resolution, watch Game of Thrones; that’s not Twin Peaks’bag. I have ideas on what’s coming – who is this dreamer, and just how long have they been dreaming? We did see little Sarah Palmer (who I’m calling the black-and-white girl who swallowed the bug-BOB in episode 8) fall asleep back in the 50s – but I know they pale to what we’re actually going to get in just three short but soul-crushingly-long weeks.Fourteen down. Four to go. Brace yourselves.More to Read: