
Monday, March 16, 2026 — Orlando, Florida
It’s another partly sunny and muggy early spring day in Central Florida. As I write this, it’s 81°F (27°C), and while some areas of Orange County are covered by a shroud of gray cumulus clouds, my neighborhood is getting a bit of sunlight. With humidity at a sticky 79% and a south‑southwesterly breeze blowing at 12 MPH (20 KmH), the heat index is a summery 86°F (30°C).






This, of course, is nothing new to this Florida native. I’ve lived in the Sunshine State for most of my life — mostly in Miami, but since the spring of 2016 I’ve also called Tampa and, since last August, the Orlando area home. I’ve only lived out of state a few years: almost six years in Bogotá in the late 1960s through early 1972, an 88‑day study‑abroad stint in Sevilla in the fall of 1988, and that brief 10‑month sojourn in New Hampshire that ended in October 2024. So the sometimes‑hellish climatic landscape of my birth state is one I know intimately.

This weekend, my good friend Juan Carlos Hernández told me that our 2019 short film, Clown 345, won an Award of Recognition from the Accolade Global Film Competition, an international festival based in La Jolla, California. The Accolade Competition has been around for years and is known for spotlighting high‑quality independent work from all over the world — everything from short films and documentaries to experimental media and web series.
Unlike festivals where entries compete head‑to‑head, Accolade uses a merit‑based system: each submission is judged against a professional standard by a panel that includes Emmy, Telly, and Communicator Award recipients. Awards are given at several levels, and the Award of Recognition is granted to productions that demonstrate notable achievement within their category.
It’s a small but meaningful honor — especially for a short film made with heart, hustle, and a lot of late‑night script pages. I wrote about a third of the screenplay at Juan’s request, and seeing our little project earn a place on that awards page feels like a quiet affirmation of the work we put into it.
Aside from that, there’s not much to tell. I’ll take my traditional midday break as soon as I post this on WordPress, then return to my desk and work on The Jim Garraty Chronicles during the afternoon shift. The forecast doesn’t include thunderstorms — we had our share last night — so I should be able to get some editing done on the omnibus edition.

So, until next time, have a great day, and I’ll catch you on the sunny side of things.
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