Some pirates are busy pirates others are more laid back:
Taking their ease on their homes afloat. I remember doing this and now I'm up at all hours working, and enjoying it too. I don't envy him, his sunny retirement, which surprises me.--__--__--__--__--__--__--__--
The lack of combustion in his Honda Aero 750 got him down a bit, and I decided to get involved with my car and my trailer. Diggy is the only one of two other people who work at the police department who regularly commute on two wheels. I felt he needed an outside boost. He seemed grateful as we set out for the shop at Ken's place across town.
Sometimes things get overwhelming and all it takes is a little help to get the ball rolling. No word yet on why it died so completely but we rolled the Honda into some mechanical therapy. A broken Honda, imagine that.
This is summer time at Smathers, which means flat water, bright sun, sparkling waters and a book, or an Ipod or something electronic and a deck chair:
Or for the busy people wanting to enjoy a vacation there's the possibility of a painted ship upon a painted ocean:
It was far out trying to find a breeze. And failing. Not so busy after all.
Everyone likes a shot of Duval Street. This one hit my whimsy button when I saw a sale sign on the sandal shop. I've never seen Birkenstocks on sale until now:
I imagined the unwary realising their mistake in arriving in the Southernmost City with unsuitable footwear and finding these icons of funky footwear at BMW prices- on sale. While I was on Duval I spotted these umbrellas at the Pegasus Hotel, Key West's Art Deco establishment with a rooftop pool:
One way to spend a summer afternoon. But not me I was out taking pictures, including these happy youngsters enjoying their 50cc freedom. It reminded me of me 40 years ago, carefree and young, at least in my memory:
Nostalgia being what it is I ducked into Fast Buck Freddies department store for some cold air and I met a couple of coworkers from my time there five years ago. I enjoyed working in shipping, it was a challenge but the police paid better and offered overtime. I like dropping in on Fast Bucks especially as our anniversary is coming up and She will be glad to be surprised with something when I decide what it is.
I sheltered from the heat in the Aladdin's cave gloom of the store where I bumped into a couple of my former coworkers who remembered me, a minor miracle in a town with the turn over of Key West. John the manager is starting to think about retirement after three decades with the store, a remarkable life of stability in Key West. We talked and it was a pleasure to hear his thoughts on Costa Rica, tinged with regret at the thought of leaving a town he himself describes as special, even after all those years dealing with its trials and tribulations. 
I came for the air conditioning and got an uplifting chat. A nice and unexpected treat.
New York City is apparently sucking up all the available hybrid cabs as all 13,000 in the city are supposed to be fuel efficient in a couple of years. We got half a dozen to much fanfare. It's an unlikely looking solution to Peak Oil, but I gloomily suppose every little bit helps.
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43 units are being planned for Key Haven, that place this series of vignettes started at. They want to pave over the mangrove islands and build a "community:"
Naturally I say leave well enough alone not having a stake in the profits to be made from this enterprise.
This is the entrance to a place known as Enchanted Island, home of anglers and mangroves. Soon to be a luxury community near you. And The Blue Paper is alleging loudly the city manager was hired after he retired from the Navy as a quid pro quo for moving jet flight paths from directly over this wealthy community and inflicting them instead on the impoverished trailers of Stock Island. No comment say I, wondering whatever happened to the concept of muzzling the press.
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Many many years ago in a fit of pique at the job I was tired of, I applied from cool foggy California for a job in the town of Sitka, Alaska. Someone I knew who was familiar, he said, with the Alaska panhandle, told me it was a fine place to live. Lots of rain he intimated but not especially frigid. Thus it is I have a fondness for blogs that describe life in the frozen North. I wonder what might have become of me had the job materialised for me...It would not, I think have been a good fit. I read of acts of daily heroism coping with snow in July, fog, rain and monstrous costs of living in a land with not many recreations that appeal to summery weakling like me.
I find myself content with rich deep greens and blues and the white sunlight, a long glass of icy lemonade and a book. This sort of thing I can do year round in the deep south. My kind of place.
