Rusty negotiated downtown Key West like a pro. He did get scared by some loud music and motorcycles and drunk spring breakers around Simonton Beach but otherwise he walked and sniffed and checked stuff out with perfect equanimity. I was pleased by and surprised with his performance. We ambled around together like we had been doing it all our lives, old friends. It was very pleasant.
I never much cared for the name Pelican Poope which struck me as rather...scatological, but when news came that the operation was closing down and souvenirs and dust catchers would no longer be sold people were distraught. And now there is no sign it was ever here. Just like that.
Then we have the new arrivals in town and by the name alone it didn't sound promising. One more puerile franchise to lower the tone on Duval.
And God knows what this monkey thing is going to be but I doubt it will change the path that Duval Street seems set upon.
World of Beer is gone but there are signs in the window seeking staff. For what precisely is not clear. I saw mention of tacos but who knows. Who cares. One more chain outlet no doubt.
Rusty was wandering outside Old City Hall seeking unconsidered trifles, channeling Cheyenne it seemed to me, and I was forced to ponder how this building would get funded these days.
Just because you see someone defying a painted sign doesn't mean you should too. If you don't know the owner of the driveway you may not want to do this:
I was struck by all the tables lined up along the sidewalk. They looked like a painting or some sort of artwork of a moment captured in a moment in time. They were probably just spring breakers having hangover breakfasts.
What made the walk more awkward for me who likes his anonymity, was my face on the newspaper machines.