MICK AND THE SPEEDOLESS KRAUTS

In the sixties the Germans began invading Naples. Started with day bus tours from Miami. They'd park at the end of 5th Ave South and go to the beach. Nice people. No problem, except for one small thing. They would change into their swim suits right out in the open. Shuck off their lederhosen and suit-up.

Until that time I was certain there was nothing uglier on earth than a fat, hairy, Frog in a Speedo, or whatever that banana hammock is the French wear. I was wrong. There's nothing worse looking than any fat, hairy, man without a Speedo. So when the calls came pouring in that the moon was rising over the beach, we knew it was a true emergency and beat it down there to deal with it. It took some time, and many trips, but we finally cured them of indecent exposure.

How'd they comply? With a beach towel. They'd wrap the beach towel around them and somehow squirm about, shedding clothes and adding clothes as they went. Then the towel would drop, and they were in swimming garb. Or, after the swim, back in street clothes. And you never saw a thing.

After that, Naples was secure from these vile scenes until folks found Party Beach, an island tip close to Marco. Something about the area, the sun, or too much liquid stupid, would cause revelers to shuck their laundry. Get sand in their Schlitz.

The CCSO would sorta overlook the indiscretions on the remote island. Especially, if it was a topless, pretty girl. After all, they were only partially breaking the law, still having half a bikini on.

One day CCSO Marine Patrol Deputy Bobby K spotted a group of five or six men strolling down Party Beach, sans drawers. He edged up close to the beach, and got the groups attention. He noticed that one, an extremely skinny and unusual looking dude, was trying to hide behind the others. Then he figured out why. It was Mick Jagger. And the Rolling Stones. Seems they were staying at the Ritz Carlton and playing a concert in Tampa the next day.

Bobby told them before he could get any Satisfaction they were gonna have to put their togs on and they complied, without complaint. Mick was very apologetic and agreeable. That wasn't a surprise. The Stones stayed at the Ritz often--some finally buying homes on Sanabel--and were known as primo guests. They would rent an entire floor and caused no one any trouble or make any goofy demands. They also liked to hang at Harold's Place, a small bar still on US 41, never causing a problem.

Some lesser rock stars could rush to take notice. Especially on New Year's Eve.

Thanks, Dave J.