Shore Staff Bios: Millie Marie Taylor

The newest member of our  little family is decidedly more feminine, but can still drink Jim and Don under the table.

Name: Millie Marie Taylor

Born: Houston ,Texas

Raised: Austin Texas

Current Residence: Jensen Beach, FL

Hometown: I still call both Austin Texas, and Valparaiso Florida, my hometowns. Texas taught me my great “childhood to young lady” lessons. Florida living matured and shaped me into the grown women I am today.

How long a Parrot Head? I am still a young Parrot Head. The past 5 years have been all about learning and joining the "Party with a Purpose". This sounds funny but it's true. I didn't know what I know now.

How did I get to be a Parrot Head? My husband and I were on the down hill side to planning our retirement life in Jensen Beach, and leaving a little room in our lives for new adventures. My aunt CC introduced me to a whole new world of music and color. I had a hard time catching up, and joining a local Parrot Head Club. I was finally enjoying live music at The Deck in Stuart, Fl. I loved that when in phlocks, these colorful folks were always drinking, dancing, and just being happy. I met Bill and Karen Stewart, and with great pride, joined the Treasure Coast Parrot Head Club.

Dirty little musical secret: I have no skills to play any instruments. I am kind of okay at shaking shakers, but I lose the beat while dancing. All my life, I have had a lot of fun with music. I have danced ballet (learned I'm not graceful), tapped my way down a hill backwards (with sparks trailing behind me), and I even joined the choir at school ( did not know you could be asked to leave a volunteer position). All of this could not tame my silly, clumsy and just out spoken side. I was never the class clown, but I didn't go unnoticed. I can, and have, won bar tabs at Karaoke contests. I just love to listen to happy music, and dancing around the house or wherever. Trop Rock is happy music for me. Give me tropical tourist songs all day. I live in the best hidden beach town in the world, but we still have tourists and snowbirds. I love to play tourist everyday and enjoy my happy tropical music. That's why I am on “The Shore”.

Boxers or briefs? I don't watch boxers much or own a boxer dog, and I have never been accused of being brief.

My favorite drink: It would be so much shorter for me to answer this by saying Miller Lite (draft,can,bottle); spiced rum (mixed or shaken); whip cream vodka (w/pineapple juice& a cherry), can always be found near me or on me.

Last book I read: I can't remember the last book I've sat down and read. I do enjoy reading and surfing the web for updates and new info about artists and music venues.

Best experience you don't remember: Not sure.... It might be the rumors or gossip that keeps me fuzzy laughing with this one particular story. The story I was told goes something like: After “DD'ing” (drinkin' & dancin') at a Jimmy Buffett concert, I was stopped while leaving with half a beer, and asked to throw it away. Well, I drank the rest of the beer and tossed the container into the trash. While I thought I was leaving the venue gate, I was really being lead to a holding area for "drinking without an ID". I kept telling the female cop my name and birthday to assure her that I was old enough. This never works well, with 40 other innocent people yelling their truthful, "I didn't do anything wrong". I was finally escorted, with five others, all wrist banded together, to a large multiple seat golf cart, and plastic banded to the cart's side rails. A wonderful incredible hulk of a friend of ours came over, and with a few strokes of his pocket knife, freed me and flung me over his shoulder. He carried me to the 16 passenger van we all came in. I thanked him with a kiss and told him he saved me from going to jail. Two seconds later I was snoring all the way back to Florida. There are 4 versions of this story and all are very similar. Other parts of the story have me dancing and drinking with a priest, mud wrestling with some others (cause it was just rainy and slippery), and crying, “I can't go to prison”, ect.