Thursday, August 1, 2013

Walking Whitehead

Whitehead Street as the sun comes up.
The gate that was smashed by an errant car is close to being rebuilt at the Caroline Street entrance to Truman Annex.

They are doing it right, restoring the original US monogram on the gate posts the marked the entrance to a military base.

However we were exiled from the leafy paradise that is Key West's biggest gated community.

No worries, the actual city outside the gates works fine for us, trees leaves and all.

I find it weird that people put their names on their mailboxes. In a land paralyzed by fear of absolutely anything and everything I suppose it's the mark of brash self assurance to tell the world who lives here but the purpose of the name tag escapes me.
WPA! Here comes Public Works to straighten out the mess. Some days when I am sick of dispatching I quite fancy a pay cut and a chance to drive the Zamboni.
I really like the look of the man Post Office, the place that delivers mail all the way to Nay Point at Mile Marker 15. It's one of those government buildings that look right, a symbol of solidity in the sifting sands of modern life. Nothing seems secure in a world littered with debt, diminishing resources and weird weather, but the Post Office is still delivering mail on Saturdays in all weathers. I wonder how long private corporations would last if they were required by Congress to set aside pension payments for the next 75 years. What they actually do is raid their pension funds to meet current expenses. Oh well, better to blame the Post Office for failing.
Dammit, the sun's coming up.

I prefer the dark. I can't see my own feet.

Cheyenne was on a mission and no piece of food was safe.

The post office parking lot is home to the city's largest collection of free range chickens. If you want to see a real live genuine Key West rooster head to the post office on Whitehead Street.
I caught sight of this resident trying to shoo a loud rooster off her porch, evidently exhausted by the endless crowing. How cute are those chickens now? Cute enough to get you out of bed and staggering into the dawn in sleep wear. Makes you glad to live Up North, no doubt. And just imagine what the rent is on that there chicken roost...

It is lovely though isn't it? By the time people were here on the street I was home abed, chicken-free on my little out island.