Working Duval

My bicycle needed new tires so at the ripe old age of 62, never much inclined to wield a wrench, I simply put the electric bike on the bike rack and I say that without fully expressing the effort required to lift that heavy lump of metal, and drove it to Recycle on Stock Island. That was an exercise in coronavirus management. I called and spoke by phone made the drop off without meeting anyone and walked next door to Shifting Gears to make a date for the Fiat which has a passenger window that no longer, after eight years, opens as it should. Then, finally Rusty got a walk at Little Hamaca. 

I was curious after all that good work to see how Duval Street looked on the first weekend after the roadblock came down. If you think of this as the quieter season, after the winter but before schools are out, then it looked pretty normal. On the other hand the reality is that bars only opened on Friday and not all stores are open and we are all hyper aware of the damned virus.

Looking up you can check the distance apart for the stools at the Whistle. This was mid morning so the absence of patrons is simply a fact of the hour not the shortage of people out bar hopping. Restaurants and hotels have occupancy limits, thermometers are in use and social distancing is still happening in the Keys. 

I have been impressed by the people I have met who are not wearing masks. I don't wear my mask on the street, in the open as I walk, but everyone who crosses my path. appears as conscientious as I try to be about avoiding the dreaded close contact. The occasional oblivious walker I avoid easily by stepping aside. I carry my mask in my pocket for emergencies much as one always carries a cellphone. 

I avoid Facebook controversies but I have been reading what the scientists have been advising us as they work on learning to understand the virus and from what I gather the surest way to transmit the virus is to be in a room with an infected person for a period of time longer than a casual encounter. Therefore indoor restaurants are out despite the distancing they practice. Outdoor seating is possible but you'd have to sit as far apart as Arthurian Knights at the Round Table which defies any idea of social intimacy. I wear my mask entering a business as required in key west and recommended in Monroe County. I no longer worry about touching objects but I do wash my hands and keep sanitizer in the car. Bear in mind my wife has no immune system and I cannot risk exposing her as she is locked down at home for now.

I found the idea of dropping in for an ice cream to be symbolic of the new world I want to live in and yes, had I been carrying cash I might have put my mask on and stayed distantly in line behind the customer already in there. Ice cream at ten in the morning was a bit too robust for me. I found the sign over the entrance to be ironic in these difficult times.

There is a common thread that runs through conversations among locals about driving downtown. Everyone hates and despises people who step off the sidewalk agains the light and risk getting run over by cars crossing Duval. Well guess what? After two months of having downtown to ourselves Rusty and I forgot all our rules of the road and stepped right off the sidewalk seconds after taking this picture. We were in no danger of being run down but I had to shrug apologetically to the driver who thought sounding his horn would  improve the situation. Rusty and I had a long talk about road traffic awareness after that. I think he ignored me. 

It was a funny moment for me as an hour previously I nearly ran over a pedestrian at Little Hamaca, actually two people and a dog. Believe it or not I was doing 20mph and as I came around a blind corner the two women were right there. Out of consideration for the innocent dog I stopped in plenty of time and the women stared at me as though I should have been ashamed of myself for not bothering to run them down...I didn't even tap the horn. Mistakes are easy to make as I found out later. What a good little adult I have grown into.

I drove home after noon with a tired dog on the back seat and while he snored I looked at a long, endless line of cars filled with holiday makers on their way to the vacation of a life time. May we live in interesting times. That is to say we are living in interesting times whether we want to or not. 

Old Town Encounters

I am trying to recreate Asa Tift's old boat, well that's what they say the gently decomposing wreck  is, which  lies near the entrance to Mallory Square. My plan is to take one picture each time Cheyenne walks by and today's contribution is a fearsome axe lying on the deck. Nailed down of course, but still... one in the eye for modern safety regulations.

Duval at dawn, blessedly empty.

 Almost empty...

This kind lady came by to say hello and of course I made an arse of myself. I did actually remember talking with her previously but these unscripted encounters aren't my social strong point and I forgot to ask her name or her dog's. I did get her picture though. Maybe next time I will get it together. 

The owner of this home enjoying his porch freaked me out when he uttered  a polite good morning. I got the picture but I had to interact with a stranger and congratulate him on his decorations. I got the mumbled snetence out in more or less good order.

 Morning sunrise at the Curry Mansion on Caroline Street.

Another golden glow, not dappled, at Ocean Key Resort at the end of Duval.

I took a picture of the CVS at 12 Duval which will be replaced by the huge new building across the street at 101 Duval. I found it amusing they are hiring, but of course there will be jobs aplenty at the new store too. I need to get more pictures of this place before it vanishes. The interior is a bit odd with strange angles like a flat iron building. 

Cheyenne wrapped up the walk with a breakfast of very dry very hard pizza. She wan't put off. I like that she can't see a poster and imagine the sandwich to be real. She would be impossible to walk if these two dimensional images meant anything to her.

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Naked Breasts And Classic Motorcycles

It's that time of year again when people take off their clothes and parade about on Duval Street.


And they do like the attention.


It's a money maker is Fantasy Fest, and they raise money for charity too but when the thing was founded three decades ago it was an effort to bring some life to a tourist town in dead season. This year they have succeeded beyond the usual measure, with the daftly named theme of Aquatic Afrolic .


They tell us there isn't a bed to be had in the city. Rates have dropped as have minimum stays so everything has sold out and Duval Street is packed as a result.


Body painting is the big deal this week. The rules are that genitalia must be covered by something more than paint. Women's breasts may be covered in paint only as long as they stay inside the "Fantasy Zone" which is Duval Street and the side streets to Whitehead and Simonton, but no further.


Painting must be carried out behind screens And for some reason men don't have to have their breasts covered as well which is too bad.


By the way sex acts in public are not allowed thank God. Last year a husband and wife went to jail, and very tearful they looked in their mug shots after she knelt before him in the middle of Greene Street in front of a cheering crowd and a police officer. Alcohol has a lot to answer for when it comes to public tastelessness.


I am no fan of costumes or public drunkeness but I accept Fantasy Fest as a necessary nuisance, in the spirit of funding the tourist industry upon which we all depend. Not that anybody asks my opinion or my permission.


Yesterday evening it was the turn of the Red Party, at Fogarty's, and that involves nothing as exciting as a hammer and sickle. I was at work so I was spared.


Red refers to the clothing requirement.


Or sunburn perhaps in the lack thereof.


On the whole Fantasy Fest is a few days of mostly middle aged naughtiness, and a time when peaceful gatherings across the country are getting gassed and shot with rubber bullets, Key West as usual is a model of moderation.


Silliness is on display alongside the nudity and overt sexuality.


Though nudes expect to be photographed. So one obliges.


I rather like the practical combination of grass skirt, tastefully pastied chest, handbag and reading glasses, with an iPhone the ready. She was prepared for all eventualities.


This week pay attention to signage as locals have permission sometimes that visitors don't. And if that seems unfair remember someone has to haul all the stuff in for visitors to consume.


Skateboarding is illegal on Duval but youth and beauty fully dressed and serene somehow seems rather less illegal than some of the legal nudity. And by the way men in women's clothing is nothing to get worried about. Around here it's quite normal, unfortunately.


But a parallel twin from 1967 with 6500 miles on a machine handed down to the owner by his grandfather. That's quite different. The owner's landlord saw me admiring it and he filled me in on the details as clearly he was used to passersby asking about it. "Lovely," I breathed. "Much nicer than breasts," I said before I could stop myself.
"Oh yes," he said smiling.
"Well," I defended myself, "I happen to be straight. Not necessarily by choice no matter what they say."


"Never mind," he laughed, but it's true I did enjoy the Honda far from the madding crowds. And whatever else it is it's something other than a Harley, or a breast, just for a change.


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The Bull And Whistle

So it's Friday morning and for most people who still have jobs this presages the beginning of the weekend. What better way to spend the weekend than flinging off your clothes and sitting down at a bar with a bunch of strangers to get drunk together?The Naked Lunch, a nude restaurant failed and was replaced by El Alamo, a fully dressed bar of recent memory, but the Garden of Eden ploughs along happily at the top of the Bull and Whistle building on Duval Street.
Even if I weren't working this weekend I could think of many ways to spend the time, even with a beer without taking my clothes off and sitting on a stool recently vacated by another nude patron. One could I suppose stop off on the ground floor and retreat from the 90 degree heat in the Bull itself.I've never been to the Garden of Eden not the one at the headwaters of the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers nor yet at the one at the top of the Bull and Whistle Bar.I'm sure we're all very relieved about that. The walls of the Bull are lined with paintings of people famous in Key West, Audubon, Flagler, Buffett, Tennessee Williams and Papa of course; everyone wants a bit of him.Bushes at the top, balconies in the middle and murals at the bottom. It would be no bad thing to be there tonight celebrating the start of the weekend. I'll be dispatching, so no beer for me.