Monday, February 1, 2010

Dustcatcher Rodeo

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.