Monday, March 30, 2020

Lobster Pots

I took these photos a while ago in Marathon and set them aside in the midst of other preoccupations. Now I've found them I want to post them because they remind me of happier times.
I'm not a fisherman but next time you hear someone says there is no industry in the Keys think of these beautiful symmetrical pots waiting for lobster season to roll around. These are the industry that doesn't require tourists.

Lobster pots remind me of the agricultural communities I grew up in. The work is hard, by all accounts as I've never done it. It's all weather dependent and market dependent just like farmers' crops are, and the results can offer workers lots of money or none.

I never found farming to my liking and I doubt fishing commercially would do me any better. I don't even find the time to try angling for fun. I got sick and tired of tractors and fields and and monotony and repetition and the inability to ever get away...
Yet how can you imagine a world without farmers or fishermen? 
To have ever thought I would end up not only working for the police but enjoying it would have rendered me speechless twenty years ago. But I have spent more time sitting in an office than I could ever imagine doing this kind of work, no matter the rewards:
The oceans are warming, populations are increasing and the demand for fish keeps going up apparently.
And yet it still comes back to the crews, almost all are men, in boats, almost all are fiberglass or steel, going out day and night and engaging in a hunt as old as humanity for food from the sea. 
I'm glad I get to harvest mine at the supermarket, but I don't forget where it came from.

Coronavirus Blues

Hard Rock Cafe on Duval Street We read of the massive number of casualties in Italy, a country locked down tight with 60 million people.  9,000 dead there is the equivalent of 45,000 dead in the US in proportion to total populations. Is that close enough to the annual toll of regular 'flu (over a period of months) to make coronavirus serious for the non believers? With Highway 1 and Card Sound Road closed to non residents the plague has given me an unsettled feeling of isolation.
Had the road closures taken place three weeks ago I might feel more sanguine about these late measures to tamp down coronavirus in the Keys but with twelve known cases and hardly any testing it seems exponential math will prove soon enough whether or not it is all too little too late. I have been back at work for two twelve hour day shifts, my wife the teacher is working from home so we are lucky to have jobs and income and not be like so many who are reduced to instant penury by this world wide mess.
If you were to look at my official job description as a call taker and 911 operator and police dispatcher what I am supposed to do is, at its simplest, take calls for help and send help, be it fire police or rescue. Sometimes we call the SPCA or wild animal rescue, or parking control or a utility company or some other form of help, a tow truck perhaps.  What I am not equipped to do is provide information., It is a widespread belief wrongly held that 911 is an information clearing center and when people ask about events or special occasions I usually have no more information than Google does.
So it is that we have a city information line and a county emergency information line to disseminate facts. But these are hard scary times and I find myself pondering the ordinary run of the mill calls, of which we receive very few at the moment, in a  new light. Going to jail is always the worst imaginable outcome of course when police intervene but to go to jail in these weird times is doubly bad. Equally going to the hospital for some relatively minor problem may become difficult or impossible. Fall off your bike? Break an arm? In the world of coronavirus these things suddenly pose existential risks. I read blogs by motorcycle riders and I wonder what they are thinking. probably that they are invincible but to get road rash nowadays could give you a case of the worst 'flu you've ever had, and yet no one seems to think out loud about these extensions of daily life risks.
I show up to work with a bleach bottle sprayer and a gym towel and I spray obsessively. Our bosses are taking this seriously enough that you will see disinfection going on around the police station all day. Officers are trying to work by phone to limit contact but some calls you can't avoid touching strangers. Because I am a dispatcher I am locked down in a room with two others and every time we send an officer on a call or an ambulance to help a sick person I fall back on my gratitude for my job. To be working in a  hospital these days must be an unimaginable stress, never mind the hospitals already overwhelmed by the virus. I work behind locked doors and none but dispatchers are allowed in. We drop paperwork off outside our doors and pick up as much as we can online. There is a casual brutality and indifference created by this virus that I find disheartening more than I expected. We have to treat each other like pariahs and I am sick of it already.
I go home and take a shower and wash my hands (which are chapped like parchment) and stuff my uniform in my own laundry hamper. I wash my clothes and my immune impaired wife washes hers. This is a life without purpose if you have to be surrounded by people and pretend you are alone. Being alone I don't mind at all but crossing the boundaries between actual alone time and socially distancing yourself from actual people makes me wonder how long we can stay sane. I follow the imperturbable Rusty and hope  he can keep reminding me not to lose my mind. So far so good but the tighter the lock down the worse it will get. 
Somehow day to day living continues unperturbed when you look at the utilities including the Internet and food deliveries with a few glaring exceptions. Much of the world would be delighted with the food selection we enjoy in the Keys even with a  few empty shelves. Yet over daily life, a decent meal, streaming TV, ordering books to read, calling 911 and getting a live operator, there hangs the cloud of uncertainty. I would still like a shot at my superpower, to be able to skip forward six months and see what is going to happen.
And so a few pictures.

Old Bahia Honda Bridge, morning:

Sunday, March 29, 2020

Apocalypse Weekend

Start the week with Coronavirus! Happy Day! I took these pictures Saturday morning on my usual Rusty walk around Old Town. In an effort to reduce crowds and the possibility of gathering and spreading the virus more spaces are now closed. Including Simonton Beach. A couple of days earlier Rusty rolled in the sand and I took a picture across the water...Now it's all closed off.
I fear the next apparently inevitable step in the process which is a total lockdown, stay at home order. My buddy Giovanni in Italy, a cardiologist in Terni, sent me an e-mail describing his life at home and he is not a fan of sitting still and enjoying inner contemplation. His private practice has dried up to almost nothing, and aside from making less money he has nothing to do all day...and that freaks him out. Of an evening after a day of listening to hearts at the public hospital and an afternoon of doing it in his private office next to his home he likes to take a walk around downtown, looking in the shop windows, admiring passersby and chatting aimlessly with friends.  All we can do now he writes is take a walk around the block. The despair in his tone is palpable after three weeks of lockdown.
In terms of my daily life my routines have hardly changed this despite my wife's self imposed quarantine for the last couple of weeks. Of course I am fed up taking a bleach spray to work, I've largely given up dodging people at the market and we are relaying on our supplies at home of which we have plenty, and socializing is done by electron. As long as Rusty and I can keep walking, as long as my camera doesn't break, I'm fine thanks. Not hard to be in this perfect summery climate, daily swims in the canal and miles of empty mangrove trails all to myself! I don't go to bars but I share these sentiments:
So far, somehow, Florida isn't in the headlines for rate of infection. In the headlines I see Detroit New Orleans growing in numbers alongside Washington California and the New York area. At the same time Florida's Republican governor has come under all sorts of fire. I don't really feel like he deserves it, even though mine seems to be the minority view. He has been attacked for not shutting down beaches soon enough which is a fair criticism but it was early days for most Americans who hardly seem to have noticed what's going on ahead in the development of this pandemic. With the beaches shut down at last Governor DeSantis was stuck with a flow of New Yorkers understandably fleeing the epicenter of sickness and coming back to their winter homes in Florida. And the bystanders laid into him for that. This is the second time I've seen this group of cyclists riding around the city ignoring social distancing guidelines.
It's this kind of thoughtlessness that pushes governments into draconian measures to protect us from ourselves.  In Britain where the Prime Minister has come down with the disease social distancing was going so broadly ignored by everybody that have had to institute an official lock down. When I walk Rusty I touch nothing, I avoid people and I avoid anything that could put me close to anyone. My sunset walks are alone on trails I've been walking for decades and to have this time with my dog and my camera taken away would really start to piss me off.
Bit of a first world problem when faced with drowning from the worst 'flu epidemic seen in the past century. I just feel that some restraint and thoughtfulness will help us get through this without having ti worry too much about government intervention. If you understand the need for social distancing and how it works you don't need to be nagged to do as you are told by the cops. People have been gathering in groups to watch the sunset through this crisis. They closed Mallory Square to prevent people from bunching. So what did they do? They bunched on the White Street Pier and Higgs Beach. Guess what?
Like so many of us I wonder how we are going to ever get out of this situation. They call it an "exit plan," which no one has a clue about. As usual I watch our friends in Europe who  are deeper into this than us. In Italy one town at the center of the epidemic tried to ease restrictions and the damned virus sprang up again. In Hong Kong they called back government office workers from working at home and as soon as they did the virus came back. I do not envy our leaders struggling to deal with this new problem. I understand the President facing re-election wants to get back to normal but I don't see Easter as a target date. More like the height of infection maybe. I caught a poor quality photo of this guy speeding back to Stock Island with his loot. Paper towels! Yay!
I see people Up North hunkering down in heavy coats and woolen beanies social distancing between snowdrifts and my issue is what time do I want to take a dip in the canal to refresh myself. I talk to people abandoned by their wealthy bosses to fend for themselves and I have a job with the most supportive organization in Key West. Small businesses are struggling to keep their people working, facing the possibility of falling between the cracks and not getting any support from the Feds. So I figured what the hell. I am going to post a few unrelated pictures of things I saw on Duval, colors shapes and unconsidered trifles I had time and peace and quiet t look for on our walk yesterday morning. Nothing to do with the virus directly.

I hope the pictures make up for my coronavirus grumblings.

Saturday, March 28, 2020

Sugarloaf Dusk

Spending an hour with Rusty watching the darkness close in around us is a meditation.
 Me with my camera, he with his nose.
I love walking Rusty through these mangrove trails.
Youngsters apparently come by these dead ends to enjoy their cars.

I have learned that sometimes on his walks he likes to pause and listen and look.