I had the rare pleasure of commuting the wrong way this past week, only it didn't always go as well as it might have. At Mile Marker 39 on Monday afternoon on the way home we got stuck in traffic.
It seems an elderly couple managed to roll their van into the mangroves on this exceptionally long straight stretch of road. Luckily for them they must have been wearing their seat belts as the ambulance took them away but the road opened up after a mere twenty minute delay.
It was aggravating that there was no bicycle path along here else I would have had the chance of pushing my motorcycle along it to get around the blockage. As it was I had to sit in line with all the cages and wait for things to resume normal operations. Just one of the disadvantages of having but one highway to roll along. I sat there and envied the push bike:
I had been in Marathon all day for a dispatch class with some colleagues and the next day when we reassembled they were bitching about the delay in getting home. I was none too pleased as I should have been 25 minutes away from my waiting dog but it took me an hour almost, to get home. Nevertheless like I told the youngsters... it could have been worse.
I had been following Lisa when we got stuck. She was all over her phone to warn her family of her delay. I didn't bother to call anyone as Cheyenne hasn't learned how to answer the phone and my wife had a staff meeting.
Some other people were ready to wait out the delay in comfort.
Finally we got rolling again and traffic was moving pretty fast as though to make up for the involuntary pause. It was still sunny when we stopped at the red light in Big Pine Key:
The class took three days in the state building in Marathon 22 miles north of my house. It was rather odd for me to be getting up before dawn- God I hate alarm clocks- walking Cheyenne and then spending all those precious sunlit hours sitting indoors learning the latest medical dispatch techniques.
It seems an elderly couple managed to roll their van into the mangroves on this exceptionally long straight stretch of road. Luckily for them they must have been wearing their seat belts as the ambulance took them away but the road opened up after a mere twenty minute delay.It was aggravating that there was no bicycle path along here else I would have had the chance of pushing my motorcycle along it to get around the blockage. As it was I had to sit in line with all the cages and wait for things to resume normal operations. Just one of the disadvantages of having but one highway to roll along. I sat there and envied the push bike:I had been in Marathon all day for a dispatch class with some colleagues and the next day when we reassembled they were bitching about the delay in getting home. I was none too pleased as I should have been 25 minutes away from my waiting dog but it took me an hour almost, to get home. Nevertheless like I told the youngsters... it could have been worse.I had been following Lisa when we got stuck. She was all over her phone to warn her family of her delay. I didn't bother to call anyone as Cheyenne hasn't learned how to answer the phone and my wife had a staff meeting.Some other people were ready to wait out the delay in comfort.Finally we got rolling again and traffic was moving pretty fast as though to make up for the involuntary pause. It was still sunny when we stopped at the red light in Big Pine Key:The class took three days in the state building in Marathon 22 miles north of my house. It was rather odd for me to be getting up before dawn- God I hate alarm clocks- walking Cheyenne and then spending all those precious sunlit hours sitting indoors learning the latest medical dispatch techniques.
Our instructor Ray was born in Key West but has lived his life in Miami working in Fire/Rescue in the Big City. He likes his phone too.
Kristi has a modern full service phone and she uses it.
As do Karl and Fred. Fred thought I was hilarious documenting all my neighbors busy with their telephone applications. "I'm Facebooking," Kristi said indignantly, also stabbing proper use of English through the heart with a newly minted verb.
"You're like my sister," Karl grumbled. "She's always taking pictures of everything." Funnily enough she should because Key West as I always point out is changing all the time. Even more funny Karl, Kristi and Fred are all Conchs, though Kristi denies it saying she moved to Key West when she was three. I say if you graduate Key West High School you're a Conch (a Key West Native) as high school is what seems to form most Americans as adults. Karl and I agree that anyone who pronounces Conch as "consh" might as well be running their fingernails down a black board. "I hate that," Karl groaned. He grinned at me and added: " I tell them the 'h' is silent!" When I managed to stop laughing I decided there and then I would adopt that same line. Thus in the word Conchscooter, the 'h' is silent. Works for me.
Commuting to Marathon in the early morning put the sun directly in my eyes, which was okay as the views were really quite pleasant. The ride is faster than that to Key West as more of the road between Big Pine and Marathon is 55 miles per hour and there are lots of opportunities to pass. On the way home it was easier for me to snatch a few pictures as I had no deadlines. Winter is really quite lovely when it is as calm and sunny as this:
Ohio Key. 
The old Flagler bridge turned into a bicycle path and fishing platform: 
The Bonneville is the ideal commuting vehicle as far as I'm concerned.
Kristi has a modern full service phone and she uses it.
As do Karl and Fred. Fred thought I was hilarious documenting all my neighbors busy with their telephone applications. "I'm Facebooking," Kristi said indignantly, also stabbing proper use of English through the heart with a newly minted verb.
"You're like my sister," Karl grumbled. "She's always taking pictures of everything." Funnily enough she should because Key West as I always point out is changing all the time. Even more funny Karl, Kristi and Fred are all Conchs, though Kristi denies it saying she moved to Key West when she was three. I say if you graduate Key West High School you're a Conch (a Key West Native) as high school is what seems to form most Americans as adults. Karl and I agree that anyone who pronounces Conch as "consh" might as well be running their fingernails down a black board. "I hate that," Karl groaned. He grinned at me and added: " I tell them the 'h' is silent!" When I managed to stop laughing I decided there and then I would adopt that same line. Thus in the word Conchscooter, the 'h' is silent. Works for me.Commuting to Marathon in the early morning put the sun directly in my eyes, which was okay as the views were really quite pleasant. The ride is faster than that to Key West as more of the road between Big Pine and Marathon is 55 miles per hour and there are lots of opportunities to pass. On the way home it was easier for me to snatch a few pictures as I had no deadlines. Winter is really quite lovely when it is as calm and sunny as this:
Ohio Key. 
The old Flagler bridge turned into a bicycle path and fishing platform: 
The Bonneville is the ideal commuting vehicle as far as I'm concerned.So after three days of classes I re-certified myself as an Emergency Medical Dispatcher and resumed normal scheduling, a couple of nights of work and a weekend off. I am a lucky worker bee and anyone who calls needing CPR over the phone will be glad I took the classes. I've done it before but the protocols have changed so I will be all up to date and ready for anything now. As it should be.
12 comments:
Dear Conchscooter:
I have not even had the pleasure of meeting Kristi yet, and her eyes are staring right through me, like I was ten pounds of shit in a two-pound bag.
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
After I lived in Key West in the 70's, I moved up to Big Pine Key for some of the eighties. Thanks for all these wonderful reminders. I love your blog.
Your blog is wonderful. I lived in Key West in the mid-'sixties, and left for work reasons. I have never really worked per se, but would attache myself to a wealthy beldame, who though long in the tooth appreciated a younger guy who had a pocket rocket.
I'm thinking of returning in the guise of a more dignified, older beach-combing poet, who would be delighted to provide a midnight pickle-tickle for some of these European matrons, rolling off the cruise ships. I would introduce myself as Eduardo de Silvan, DSG (Dispossessed Spanish Grandee).
What bar is closest to the cruise ship landings these days? And do you think I should get a dog? A good dog is a great conversation starter.
As ever, Eduardo de Silva, DSG
dear jack,
It is a very unflattering picture. Kristi is sweet and innocent and about to complete her months long dispatch training- our first succesfull trainee in two years. I would rather drive a red hot cigar through your cranium than let you anywhere near her.
Dear roberta, the usual line around here is that everything went to shit after the 1980s. The critics are wrong, things are different but still worth it.
dear eduardo after I left home I got a job everywhere I went so as not to be dependent on anyone ever again. However before you choose the life of a Key West gigolo you may want to check out the hot mamas coming off your typical cruise ship. Key West is a tolerant place so if you make a hash of it we have a homeless shelter for you to sleep in and nutritious food provided by the Catholic Church ( ave verum corpus!)to keep you fighting fit. We call people like you job security and in these parlous times we thank you.
Dear Conchscooter:
I am 75-years-of age and I have never before written a letter to someone I didn't know. My grand daughter says it is all the rage now and that if I read something I like on the internet I should say so if there is a comments thing. So this is the first time I have ever done this and if I am not doing it right, you have to blame my grand daughter.
Is Conchscooter your real name? What kind of a name is that for a person?
You make Key West look so lovely but I bet it is lovely so you don't have to work that hard at it. I Iooked at some of your other articles and I kind of think of you as a spectator on Gilligan's Island. Do you remember Gilligan's Island? It was a television show in the 1960's, when Lyndon Johnson was President and a quart of milk was 47 cents in Johnstown, Ohio.
The pictures you take of people are very interesting. Is there a regulation that says people who work for the City of Key West have to get their hair cut short? I notice that Kristi's hair is cut as short as Karl's. Did they get it done at the same place? Also, is Karl a little shrimpy guy or is Fred just huge? That picture would have been very funny if Karl had been sitting in Fred's lap. Fred could have pretended to make Karl talk by pulling a string or something a the back of his head.
This was a nice visit and I can hardly wait for your reply, and tomorrow's story. Do you do a story on Saturday?
Yours Truly,
Shirley Steinblatt
Dear CS: I spent One and 1/2 hour getting from my son's school to work the other day (about 17.5 miles according to Google maps) because too many morons simply cannot drive on snowy roads. Not because anyone had an accident... NO! Because they were slipping and sliding through intersections and up hills thus causing backups that went for miles. And I could not sit on the side of the road to watch the fiasco as it was 6 degrees or some ridiculously low temperature. I did take pictures which I will never use... bah!
Dear Shirley thank you o much for thre kind comment. I enjoyed reading it very much. If you ever come across anyone called Jack who gives you advice, my advice is not tot ake it it. Espeically if he asks you about pretty young girls he has no business talking to.
My mother always wanted to live in key west and have me ride a motorcycle so conchscooter just came naturally to her, I guess.
Karl is a shrimpy little guy but all muscle, and he has a wicked snes eof humor. Ican't wait for him to finish training so both he and Fred can come to my shift and keep me laughing all night.
say hi to your nephew and I hope this reaches you as it left me, in the pink. Sincerely
CS,
Dear Danette, if you start assuming all kinds of identities and leaving comments I will stop feeling sorry for you.
Dear CS: I am also Riepe in disguise. But don't tell him.
Dear Conchscooter:
I have decided that no visit to Key West from me will be possible unless it includes lunch with Kristi. From this moment on, I will only draft comments that address the nobility of man, world peace, and the natural ascendency of women in any culture of consequence.
No more will I refer to the gutter, the gin mill, and the whorehouse as the most natural destinations for a motorcycle rider. Nor will I define skirt chasing as an art form. I will take classes on elocution (in case the lights go out, I guess) and woman's studies. (I have no clue as to what "womens studies" are, but have an idea they are not associated with bass fishing, spitting, or the wholesale slaughter of doves on the day the Nobel Peace Prize is typically awarded.)
I will also refrain from using the word "fuck" without the conditional modifier "Let's." Therefore I would appreciate it if you would put greater emphasis on my good points (i.e. sensitive, genteel, well-read, motivated by the best intentions, etc.).
I know I can count on you.
Fondest regards,
Jack • reep • Toad
Twisted Roads
Just how good can EMS services be in Key West? All the dispatchers are in a class ewatching some cupcake use FaceBook, and there is a body laying next to the road in photo #6.
Just sayin' what everyone should be thinking.
Stevie
Happily the body in the road was in the Sheriff's jurisdiction not ours.We happy few only do the last island. We left a few highly trained dispatchers to do some work while we were away and as far as I know the police department communications muddled through without me. disappointing I know.
Dear Jack: Kristi says she will be waiting for you outside the supermarket at the end of the street in light of all the promises ytou made. Please stay there even if a blizzard descends upon you as she will show up. Really. If you die in a snow drift she will be inconsolable. As will I.
You mean you haven't got your dog answering phones:)
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