I was astonished to read in the paper that there is a dulcimer festival going on in town at the moment. Key West will celebrate anything at the drop of a hat so I shouldn't be surprised, and dulcimers at least are pleasant to listen to. As it was my good fortune to have this particular weekend off I got dragged to Whitehead Street to check out the supply of dust catchers offered for sale. This guy also skipped the dulcimer orgy and because he was playing John Lennon's
Imagine I took his picture. Those of us who end up in the nonconformist lagers reserved for godless Communist non Republicans will make the song our anthem as we stare at the free world outside the wire.
I have decided a pink tricycle will be my wheels when I am too elderly to be riding recklessly on two. Island Bottles has a slogan that involves you drinking it and they will flatten it to make serving trays and the like. I used to live by sailing and I became a bureaucrat; other people go sailing and they become artists.
I have noticed over the years that women who go shopping like to touch stuff. I stand back and stare at the object in question and ask myself what on earth we need
this for, but women walk up boldly and start pawing the thing. I have seen this done in all sorts of stores and it is a world wide phenomenon. Give a woman flowers and the first thing she does is stick her nose in them; take a woman to Target and she will walk the aisles all day fondling the merchandise. Stand on Whitehead Street among the bric-a-brac and you see this:
Men like to live in caves and do stuff. Some men get to do this and make money. Some, very few men, make a living hiding in caves. You take their pictures and feel envy.
This next picture is all wrong. The dude is talking to the shopkeeper and the women are watching. Check their body language- all I see is impatience. How silly can he be thinking we want this stuff? Mom has her hands on her hips to signal that it's time to move on. Daughter loves Daddy and wants to indulge him, but really...
Celia, with the western dude ranch headgear, came all the way from Santa Fe to check out the dust catchers. The dude in the dark glasses is her driver. She limited herself to a new watchband so Bruce didn't have to carry any parcels home.
This guy got away from his minder and was busy grazing on popcorn. He looks happy with his momentary freedom.
No popcorn for you. Keep pushing.
Hah! What did I tell you? More public fondling. The guy knows what's good for him. He's fondling too, and doubtless making appreciative noises.
This is the Key West fantasy made real. A woman, a bicycle, a warm summer evening in January and a craft fair to enjoy at your leisure. Some people spent Saturday evening shovelling snow.
Unselfconsciously Croc'ed. His dog is a lesbian, and Cheyenne was not amused.
"Best honey in the world," he drawled, to remind us there are some who believe the Florida they grew up in, is actually a southern state. I am glad there are still enough honey bees left to do their work. I love honey but my wife snapped "we have plenty" and my feeble attempt to do good by shopping fell by the wayside.
I wonder what this guy does in real life. Issues building permits? Rebuilds jet engines? His imagination is a thing of wonder judging by his offerings.
These carvings impressed me but failed to make a dent in my treasurer's carapace. She didn't even fondle them.
Popcorn and gossip. One is a Key West staple the other is a Key West pastime. Or vice versa.
This kid had the right idea. The adult kept picking up the useless possession and the kid, an anti-materialist if ever I saw one, kept throwing it away. The wrong message at a craft fair- Chinese child laborers slaved away for hours at below minimum wages to bring you that object and what you really want is an American made wooden sculpture. Yes but if we don't buy their crap products, China won't buy our crap bonds and then we'll have to admit we've gone broke.
Dog napping is a constant threat in Key West. KA said she wanted to "give Cheyenne a ride" in her patrol car. A likely story. Had I let her go I'd never have seen her again. I need to train Cheyenne not to trust strangers, especially ones in uniform.
It was a wild day on Whitehead Street. I nearly got a pot of hunny and nearly lost my Pooh Bear. I should have gone to the Dulcimer Festival, it would have been safer.
I was astonished to read in the paper that there is a dulcimer festival going on in town at the moment. Key West will celebrate anything at the drop of a hat so I shouldn't be surprised, and dulcimers at least are pleasant to listen to. As it was my good fortune to have this particular weekend off I got dragged to Whitehead Street to check out the supply of dust catchers offered for sale. This guy also skipped the dulcimer orgy and because he was playing John Lennon's Imagine I took his picture. Those of us who end up in the nonconformist lagers reserved for godless Communist non Republicans will make the song our anthem as we stare at the free world outside the wire.
I have decided a pink tricycle will be my wheels when I am too elderly to be riding recklessly on two. Island Bottles has a slogan that involves you drinking it and they will flatten it to make serving trays and the like. I used to live by sailing and I became a bureaucrat; other people go sailing and they become artists.
I have noticed over the years that women who go shopping like to touch stuff. I stand back and stare at the object in question and ask myself what on earth we need this for, but women walk up boldly and start pawing the thing. I have seen this done in all sorts of stores and it is a world wide phenomenon. Give a woman flowers and the first thing she does is stick her nose in them; take a woman to Target and she will walk the aisles all day fondling the merchandise. Stand on Whitehead Street among the bric-a-brac and you see this:
This is the Key West fantasy made real. A woman, a bicycle, a warm summer evening in January and a craft fair to enjoy at your leisure. Some people spent Saturday evening shovelling snow.
"Best honey in the world," he drawled, to remind us there are some who believe the Florida they grew up in, is actually a southern state. I am glad there are still enough honey bees left to do their work. I love honey but my wife snapped "we have plenty" and my feeble attempt to do good by shopping fell by the wayside. 
These carvings impressed me but failed to make a dent in my treasurer's carapace. She didn't even fondle them.
Popcorn and gossip. One is a Key West staple the other is a Key West pastime. Or vice versa.
Dog napping is a constant threat in Key West. KA said she wanted to "give Cheyenne a ride" in her patrol car. A likely story. Had I let her go I'd never have seen her again. I need to train Cheyenne not to trust strangers, especially ones in uniform.
10 comments:
At the craft fairs around here it seems that the vendors always have the same kinds of chairs. The ones with wooden frames and cloth seats and cloth backs. I have coveted them for some time, but reality eventually sets in when I realize that, for me, it would just become a giant dustcatcher.
I suspect a pink trike would fit nicely with pink crocs. Next will be the pink leigh and sunglasses. Oh, don't forget your pink feather boa ... I know you don't want to catch a chill. -:)
Dear Sir:
What a quaint custom, herding unsuspecting tourists through funnels of disenfranchised craftsmen, marketing knitted toilet paper cozys and ashtrays made out of painted clamshells.
What day is the local home-brewers sidewalk tasting festival?
The driveway is covered with ice again, and I am pissed.
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
Just wondering...how did you know that dog was a lesbian?? Did she have a rainbow collar on?? Are you telling us that Cheyenne dosent like alternative doggy lifestyles??
Buffalo Bill
I'm damned if pink is penetrating any deeper in my life, Pefley. Dear Bill, a friend of the owenr called her a her as she tried to hump Cheyenne who was taken quite by surprise. I need to have a talk with my dog about diversity.
The key west wine and food festival was also taking place where tourists were herded into a damp field to eat standing up what could be ordered quite comfortably sitting down in the restaurants. I expect to see you on Whitehead street next year selling ply dough models of water cooled BMWs. Enjoy the ice.
To CPA3485 (Jimbo) via Conch Scooter's direct line:
Dear Sir:
Why would you waste your time looking at shitty canvas or plastic folding chairs marketed by Key West bunko artists? Take a look at the "Kermit Chair," the unofficial folding seat of BMW riders everywhere.
This seat is designed to fit into a neat roll that can be easily lashed onto any self-respecting motocycle. Though spindly and almost gossimer-like, the chair will officially hold 350 pounds. In the fine print, you will see they will hold 750 pounds before imploding.
With the purchase of the leg extenders (an absolute must), the chair will run $150. Pay it. You will have no regrets. You can find this at:
http://www.kermitchair.com/
Fondest regards,
Jack • Reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
Dust catchers are good- they keep Chinese slaves employed. Wooden chairs from Tennessee are sublime. If my wife lets me get one for a ...valentines present ( any othger stupid holidays coming up?) I will take back everything bad i said about riepe. My current chair folds to a modest five feet in length and weighs as much as a bmw.
Your pictures of people in light summer skirts and sandals are just cruel. You are taunting me! Taunting me, I tell you!!! Even with my effing winter coat on in the morning (even when the sun is shining!!), I can hardly stand it outside.
Change of seasons are good they say. I don't.
+1 on the Kermit chair, it's one of the best motorcycle accessories out there.
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