Monday, May 20, 2013

The Cyclist's Butt And Other Pictures

Riding your bicycle in your underwear. It's how I know we live in the shadow of the End of Times.
Some people look to the Middle East for Armageddon, others study the entrails of Wall Street. I think it is a matter of bad taste that will bring the world crashing down around our ears. Driving home with a butt crack in your face gives you new appreciation for the burqa. Some days it feels like there is no happy medium when you live in a vacation town, good taste and common sense yield to the crass within us.
I saw the car rotting in a Old Town lot of this most expensive city and wondered at the odd use of space in a town that supposedly wants for nothing but space. On the other hand scooters remain very fashionable in town even these rather odd Chinese 3 wheelers. unlike the Italian version this scooter has a windshield, wipers and no facility at all for leaning round corners. All the disadvantages of both car and scooter it seems to me.
Parking is easier to find this time of year but two wheels, even three, are better than four for that. This picture I took against the setting sun on Front Street.
Old boats find quiet parking on canals too. The trick I have found with oats is to keep them, use and sell them the moment the lust for ownership passes. Nothing rots quite so fast or completely as an unloved boat.
Armchairs left out by the side of the road rot none too fast. I have  adiscreet pile of stuff bound for the dump and when I judge it to be time with a full load for  my small trailer off it goes. My neighbors are not quite that way inclined preferring to let it all hang out.  It's in keeping with the indoor/outdoor nature of life in the sub tropics, but it does look odd, this way station for junk roadside.
Young people complain there isn't much to do in the Keys, and I suppose that's true if they are inclined toward snowboarding or rock climbing. Failing that they do often seem to enjoy finding quiet spots in the backwoods and there burning rubber for amusement. This black streak was in a Big Pine industrial neighborhood, doubtless no one there to complain in the middle of the night.
How this bear got into the Key Deer refuge I couldn't say but I knew I was under observation as Cheyenne and I stumped by.

Rain has been falling out of the sky at random lately. I carry waterproofs in my motorcycle saddle bags because I never know when it might hit. It plays havoc with clothes drying on the line too but rainwater seems to be good for the fabric. Cheyenne likes rain because it cools the place down. 
One small note for drivers in the Key Deer Refuge (Big Pine Key mostly) if it is light enough to be able to read the 45mph sign thats how fast you can go (assuming no deer on the verges). There has been an epidemic of slow drivers of America hypermiling on Highway One lately. I had a great moment the other day when a county ambulance caught up to a cretin in a gray Nissan slowly passing a truck in the four lane section of the highway unawares of the brightly illuminated ambulance behind him. Then he panicked, slammed on his brakes and darted into a gap in the median, the place where police cars make u-turns to chase speeders in the opposite lanes. Well, you should have seen the rubber burning on the ambulance's tires as they struggled to deal with the moron's panic. No harm  done happily and I got to confirm my belief that driver training should be ongoing through adulthood. Don't hog the left lane is lesson number one. Don't hold up traffic while you sight see is lesson number two. 35 at night 45 by day, thank you.
"Have you fed the dog?" my wife texted. Duh! Don't I always?