Paying Through The Nose

Call it a bizarre coincidence but I recently received word that three women are struggling with breast cancer payments for treatment.

It happened that my wife and I met some friends at Salute Restaurant on the beach for some shared appetizers and glasses of wine. For me it was a night off work, for them it was an after work gathering and it was delightful. The wine gave me an excuse to sit for a good long time to eat and dissipate the alcohol before the ride home. We shared plates of appetizers, clams, salami, cheese, salads and vegetables and talked.

The conversation turned to a mutual friend who was forced to return to work facing the threat of being fired even as she started treatment for breast cancer. Were she to lose her job she would lose her health insurance, the delightful double whammy of crap health coverage and employment woes in the US at the moment. However it soon became clear that we had to pass round the hat because she is having trouble meeting the co-payment requirement for her treatment.

Then later my wife received word that a friend of hers got two e-mails requesting financial help for two more women also diagnosed with breast cancer, with jobs and insurance and massive co-payments they cannot manage. I was listening to my wife talk about these personal disasters and I couldn't help but wonder what it was that prompted our Republican Congressional Representative Ileana Ros-Lehtinen to shout "No!" on the recent health care vote in the House of Representatives. I couldn't help but wonder if her Congressional Health Care Plan ever sent her a sharply worded letter telling her a treatment was not covered.

Meanwhile the new report that women under 50 should or should not have mammograms is becoming fodder for the health care debate. Is it the start of "government rationing" or insurance companies scamming women for higher profits? Who cares? It seems even if you have insurance you might very well not be able to afford the treatment or the preventative care. How many read the news that even private funding of abortions may be outlawed by the health care bill? The Catholic Church toiling as usual to do God's most obscure work, insisted that a back door abortion prevention tool be inserted into the bill and never mind if health care reform is derailed. It's just unbelievable to me how many people get their oars in and stir the pot up. Residents of other industrialized nations, secure in their own versions of "socialized medicine" must think we are in collective delirium. We, the "Leaders Of The Free World."

Is it possible we live in a world between the 49th parallel and the Rio Grande, where only personal experience moves us anymore? What more can these women do, they have jobs, they have insurance and they are in a jam. And Ros-Lehtinen's answer is what exactly? More of the same. Surely we, collectively, can do better than that. Even brainstorming over appetizers I can come up with a half dozen alternatives that are better than facing either dying bankrupt or of breast cancer. Hell, I can even figure a solution to the abortion thing, a subject that leaves me cold. No public funding of abortions and insurers and women decide whether or not to cover it in the privacy of their contracts. Done. You'd think our dear leaders could manage it too, instead they continue to push us down the rat holes of their lobbyists' pursuit of the Almighty Dollar. Better not get cancer in the meantime if you don't want another reason to go bankrupt. Or die.

Simonton and Petronia

The request for a "quiet" zone on the 700 block of Simonton Street seems rather quaint in light of all that goes on a block away. The sign seems old enough and worn to hint at another era.The church has a hall attached and they have given it a blinding white paint job, a Caribbean look under the bright white winter sun:And they have barbecue and outdoor seating area for those winter gatherings when it's cool enough. At least that's what I do at home, use the outdoors in winter rather than summer. Across the street another of those bizarre looking cement jobs. It had a Porsche with an Illinois tag in the off street parking spot, so perhaps a little lake shore eccentricity in the land of funky wooden homes is permissible. Apparently the Historic Architecture Review commission thought so... Now this is more like it, boring dependable old Key West, porches planks and picket fences:Simonton Street is by far the best route to cross from north to south and back again, avoiding the cruising on Duval and the sight seeing on Whitehead. And thanks to trees it is scenic enough. Here looking north toward, ultimately, Simonton Beach:

This place has gone through a few iterations of the fast food take out menu. It never seems to last. I suspect lack of easy parking combined with an off the main track location don't help. Probably the rent is too high because the food at the Bottega though good was on the expensive side as I recall. More like a sit down place for me, than a take out. Besides it's hard tot take out when you live 28 miles away. When this was the Bottega there was a silver ET2 (battered and dented) parked outside. My wife's ET4 fills the spot:

Gary the Carpenter is one of my wife's favorite entrepreneurs. He has had a storied life with near misses he talks about quite openly and he favors my wife's class filled with difficult students with stories of how he found his way and made a successful company for himself. He has made a habit of hiring at risk youngsters to give them a chance to avoid the pitfalls he fell into in his younger life.I don't suppose the tourists clambering up the hill on Petronia Street noticed just another construction company. And one likes to think this is a refreshing cola product in her hand at three thirty of a week day afternoon.
Not for long I hope will there be vacancies around town.
This massive affair struck me as two-in-one proposition, the lumpy square utilitarian construction below and gingerbread porch on top.
Off street parking for bicycles is as necessary as any car parking. A stout lock is a useful thing too as bicycles have been known to have been lifted from gated yards, such is their worth in a cycling town (check the pawnshops...). The police department has computerized bicycle registry these days so registering the bicycle by serial number is a very useful thing.I mentioned the trees on Simonton Street:
I would be remiss if I closed this essay without a nod to J. Wills Burke and his The Streets of Key West wherein he tells the story of how John Whitehead told his buddy John Simonton of New Jersey of new business possibilities in the Island annexed with the rest of Florida to the United States in 1821. Simonton, who had interests in Alabama added to his business empire by paying Juan Salas (everyone except Pardon Greene among the early owners of Cayo Hueso were called John for some reason) two thousand dollars for the Island in early 1822. He then quartered the island and sold shares to John Whitehead, John Fleeming (sic), John Mountain and Consul John Warner. The last two sold their shares to the Pardon Green aforementioned. Salas meanwhile made a second sale to John Strong who sold his share to John Geddes, but in 1825 the Johns who have streets named after them (and Greene) won out their claims before the US Land Claims Board.

And there you have it, Whitehead, Greene, Fleming (sic) and Simonton. And not one street named Geddes.

Fog of Peace

I feel an overwhelming sense of gloom as the holiday season gears up and we all ready ourselves for whatever Thanksgiving and Christmas are likely to bring. It seems churlish but I see many lumps of coal ahead, and I wish to goodness I were wrong. They tell us the economy is on the mend but I wonder how that can be as unemployment worsens, the health care bill weakens and Peak Oil bears down upon us all. Through it tourism in Key West still seems to be strong, albeit with lower prices for rooms. And yet, and yet this nagging feeling of all not being well won't leave me.

The recent revelation by the International Energy Agency that it's numbers for projected oil output are rubbish, at the behest of the US government, gives weight to forecasters of doom like J H Kunstler and his ilk who have long predicted a steadily declining standard of living as oil gets harder and harder to find, and thus more expensive. Cheap oil has under pinned everything about modern first world living and the end of cheap oil means...? Well, it doesn't seem like it has to mean an end to civilization as we know it but we have lost the art of the sensible debate in this country so we seemed to have doomed ourselves to march up to the edge of the cliff and will have to fall over it just on principle.

The national health care debate, that is supposed to move onto the Senate floor this weekend is just the latest and nastiest example of our need to ignore the glaringly obvious. Heath care coverage is deficient and expensive in the US, but instead of debating how best to make meaningful changes available to our citizens in need, half the debating team crossed their arms, shouted insults and left the sand box.

The war in Afghanistan that was needed a decade ago to respond forcefully to the 9-11 attacks got diluted by a crazy scheme to invade Iraq at vast expense on the flimsiest of excuses and lies and now the word quagmire rears it's ugly head. And we can't debate our way out of this one because no one knows why we are there in the first place. Are we bringing corruption and democracy to Afghanistan as an alternative to the Taliban whack jobs? At our expense? Why?

Climate change, now there's a subject that needs intelligent debate and all we get is denial on one side and no coherent plan from the other. If the climate is changing and scientists tell us it is we need to plan. If the climate is changing because of human actions we need to figure out how to change and what to change about how we live. instead we get people getting angry over the very possibility that anything may be wrong with the climate that gives us life.

I have no children and I see no point in my worrying about the next generation's problems if the parents of that generation are sticking their own heads in the sand. I just can't for the life of me escape the sense of unease that keeps prodding me. The economy is an immediate issue and while it acknowledges the unemployment problem the White House shows no plans to start a Works Progress Administration, preferring to keep on funding banks over people. State budgets are imploding all over the country, Florida is facing a 20% deficit and heaven knows where that will lead us.

And as we make our holiday plans a sense of unreality fills my active mind. Cheap oil is running out, unemployment is up. Wells Fargo Bank keeps retreating from refinancing my home, even though I have yet to be late with a payment, and they have calmly pocketed 25 billion in public funds. And one looks out of the window and life rolls on, apparently without a glitch. Am I dreaming or is there a giant glitch over the horizon?

Summerland Caribbean

If I had to see this cheery billboard every time I came home "...love for life!" I'd barf, but saccharine sentiments have never been my strong suit. Summerland Cove, despite it's arch "leave-it-to-Beaver" public sentiment is quite the neighborhood in the Lower Keys. It's rather hidden away from the Overseas Highway but the old Bahama Jack's restaurant is a landmark on the other side of the road. Slice of Paradise Pizza (the best in the Lower Keys in my opinion) is also found next to the bridge entrance to the subdivision whose street is marked thus:

The little bridge crosses the canal that separates Summerland Cove from the rest of the island:

I've been down this canal system in my boat, looking for fuel at the Chevron dock next to Highway One, but it's a bit of a chore threading your way back and forth through the maze of waterways at walking speed. Much better to cruise the neighborhood by bicycle, all the better to admire the architecture:

One could easily imagine oneself perched out here on the open water view on this glorious November afternoon:This enormous pile is available for seasonal rental, though I have to say it looked rather shabby and even unfinished.

It felt like every other house was for sale or for rent up and down the street.

It's a shame but this seems like a neighborhood falling on hard times. Not surprising really, considering the state of the economy, but this is a place where the modern McMansions were thriving during the housing bubble.

Everyone wanted their stilt home in the sun.

With attendant vessel of course:

And for some a whole island is barely enough:
For everybody else there is cheek-by-jowl island living:

Sometimes one dish just isn't enough.This next home had a "Beware of the Dog" sign tacked to the front, just to make the place look homely. I figured a "Beware of the Steps" might have been apposite, especially for a visitor with a heart condition.

I tried repeatedly with various exposures to get the proper shade of turquoise to shine through in this next picture. Had my wife come home to our slightly shabby house painted with the exquisite care of this one, but in this startling shade of teal I think she might kill me. For somebody this bright paintwork spells (winter) home:For somebody else lemon yellow is the right shade of house paint. This is apparently a year round resident, one of those charming people who like to inflict their very loud radios on the neighborhood. I got the weather forecast from US1 Radio (107.1FM) from this canal side residence. "For you boaters..." the woman's voice bawled across the water as she gave the marine forecast with all the expert knowledge of someone who wouldn't know a rudder from a prop shaft. Glorious noise pollution; come the revolution all transistors will be short circuited.

This Mediterranean-style home will do nicely until strong winds pick up hurling terra cotta tiles acorss the neighborhood. Metal roofs do best in hurricane country.

"But by all means dump across the street at my neighbor's..."

I'll bet this concrete block structure was one of the original homes built in this subdivision. they cost twice as much to insure as stilt homes, as they are subject to flooding in storms, but they are the typical Florida dwellings of the 50s and 60s, and as such worth noting:

This is modern Florida; an empty lot, a seawall and a giant pile struggling for an ocean glimpse from the top floor. Nearer to God and further from good taste.Old boats don't decompose, they just sink into the shrubbery:

And modern homes surrender to the weeds as banks foreclose and mortgage holders flee and entropy takes back the former American Dream of a home in the sun:

Florida, for the first time ever, saw more people leave the state, than move in, last year. Should we be glad, finally, or worried?

The Constant Gardener

My first Earthbox has sprouted nicely. One of two plants is a ginormous creation. I think it's an eggplant but I can't honestly remember what my wife was germinating originally. Barely visible to the left is a second small green plant doing okay next to it's massive neighbor. For some reason iguana action has abated a bit around here. I hope it's the cooler weather. When the guy with the plants shows up at the Big Pine Key flea market, it's time to plant. So we pulled out our Topsy Turvy planters and got to work filling them after months of keeping them ready for action in the shed.The Topsy Turvy is available by mail for monstrous mailing fees or from Target if you happen to be in Miami among the big shops. Basically it's a plastic tube with a sponge at the south end and an opening at the north end. The plant of your choice hangs from the south end while the contraption is suspended from the north end after you fill it with a plant and some dirt:The beauty of the Topsy Turvy is that it doesn't need weeding, it's iguana-proof and by hanging the plant it takes up not much room if that's a concern for an apartment dweller. I figure one could make a planter with a bucket, a sponge, a drill, some wire and so forth but this works for me:A quick slosh with some water (tomatoes can't get enough water I'm told):Such that when I asked my wife to hold the camera she used her initative to take a picture of the hanging in progress:And presto! As unlikely as it may seem the tomato will thrive hanging upside down. I will water it frequently from the deck when I am watering the other plants and the tomatoes will taste splendid:We have been growing some seedlings for planting in one of the beds left over from last winter, and I think we will see some lettuce if the iguanas can be induced to stay away. We also planted a few herbs in our other Earthbox along with a tomato and we shall see what we shall see:Our fruit trees are doing nicely into this their second season and with my experiences from last year I hope this winter will see a more productive growing season. All I've got to do is keep the iguanas away. By any means necessary.

Money Like Water

There is so much weird stuff going on locally it's hard to know where to begin, or what to think about it all. Money it seems is no object for a few select people and institutions, and where it is an object, the sources of supply are most unlikely. Take the rather nice little hospital in Marathon, described thusly on a rather expensive billboard advertisement in Summerland Key:Fisherman's Hospital has made the rather startling suggestion that it should raise money by creating a tax district in Marathon and charge residents $70 per $100,000 of assessed property value. The idea is to raise money to buy modern equipment to make the facility more attractive for a proposed sale to an interested corporation. At a time when the federal government is being critiqued for being "socialist" for wanting universal health care, such a proposal from a private facility is rather breathtaking! I like Fisherman's and hope it continues to exist but if that can only be accomplished with a district tax I fear for it's future.

The Florida keys Community College on Stock island has a new (interim) leader. The new president announced in the Citizen that his top priority are the students, a rather rash course of action if the fate of his immediate predecessor is taken into consideration. Jill Landesberg Boyle was unceremoniously dumped after she made a raft of changes at the school that put "students first." She is now on leave, drawing her full salary until June when her term in office will come to a contractual close. For the remainder of this year the college burns up two presidential salaries at public expense, to no visible purpose.

The Monroe County School District meanwhile is doing it's own inimitable waste-of-money dance in public. The School Board majority of Pribamsky, Dick and Mathewson who have loudly proclaimed their aversion to administrative spending are planning on increasing the staffing of upper level staff in the financial department by a factor of three. John Dick, a man of little visible intelligence is telling the newspaper that a staffing report allegedly dumbing down requirements for administrative jobs is the work of the ousted former superintendent Randy Acevedo, he of the three felony convictions. According to Dick the consulting firm responsible for the reduced job requirements"probably" did so at the implied request of the former superintendent who is no longer available to refute the charge. This baseless accusation conveniently exonerates the board from any oversight responsibility. Board Chair Andy Griffith's plan to reduce administrative costs is to fire all Vice Principals. That'll show 'em.

The city of Key west meanwhile is working on it's own quality-of-life-improvement plans, which one can only view with a jaundiced eye. The city manager wants to widen the harbor channel to get bigger than ever cruise ships to dock in the next decade. 1,000 foot long ships are apparently passe. The city commission is looking to add more trolley tours to city streets to keep competition alive and well with Historic Tours of America. By supporting CityView Tours' application the city hopes I suppose to avoid an anti-trust lawsuit. I'm sure we all await the arrival of even more trolleys on city streets with bated breath. There was however a lovely moment at a recent city Commission meeting I wish I had seen in person. The paper says a discussion about monies owed from Historic Tours shows the city has lost all control of it's accounts. When one commissioner wanted to know how much HTA pays the city, all the Manager's well paid assistants were unable to provide the numbers. No one has a clue how much HTA pays the city for it's exclusive franchise, and thus no one knows if their accounts are up to date. This helps explain our lack of raises this year! It is comforting in our upside down world to know that we the city workers are helping subsidize the very wealthy Ed Swift and Chris Belland's corporation. Not enough that we the people fund banks and insurance companies!

Winter Commute

"Did you see the sunset?" my wife asked with excitement in her voice, after she drove in to have dinner in Key West Saturday evening. (She went to the Colombian Restaurant on Petronia Street: excellent food, disorganized service was the verdict.) I have been noticing the spectacular shades of red and orange and purple for some weeks, ever since we switched to winter time at the end of October. Before the change the ride home after work in the morning looked like this:Now with the return of winter time it looks like this at 6:15 am:The wind is continuing to blow out of the north bringing clear blue skies, bright sunshine and cool dry temperatures. This is a spectacular state of affairs to wake up to at lunch time, but it does tend to wash out a little of the violent, moisture laden mornings of summer. Still, the rich orange glow across the flat waters and the mangrove islands has it's own beauty:I was standing on the bridge near Mile Marker 18 between North Harris Channel and Park key and in the distance, to the east, I could see the traffic light at Sugarloaf School, the one they installed a few years ago to help school buses get on the Highway. It's the green disc seen below:Commuting is supposed to be a penance in the modern world but in the Keys it's not so bad at all. Traffic tends to get a bit heavy between seven and nine going in to Key West and between five and seven in the evening coming out, but for a wild card like me, commuting is just a pleasant motorcycle ride. Working at night puts me against the traffic flow, and the scenery is always spectacular. I love my commute.Even when the traffic is heavy there is rarely any stop and go on the commute, it's mostly a matter of sitting in a line of cars traveling a little less than the speed limit. For me, the ride is mostly an open road.

By the time I got to Summerland Key, a couple of miles from my house the dawn was well underway. I liked the contrast between gas station sign and the orange of the rapidly brightening sky:The one lane road leading to my house was in the shadow of the houses and the trees but to the south I could see the big puffy clouds of moisture gathered over the warm waters of the gulf Stream, on the horizon:

And finally, forty minutes after leaving Key West Police station I could see the shaded window of my bedroom. The ride home in 73 degrees (20C) should have been enough to wake me, but in a few minutes I know I will be fast asleep, like a vampire, before the sun hits my eyes.

The ride home is a great way to slough off the dramas of a night at work.