Still Cold

They keep promising the cold spell will fade away by Thursday when highs will be around 70 (21C) and night time lows around 60 (10C). Meanwhile these icy days and nights continue to plague us.

The north wind is biting, and even though it's sunny I have pretty much lost the will to go outside. My wife and I are lucky this winter, our new air conditioning unit is capable to keeping the house comfortable, though I try not to wonder what the electricity bill will be. It's better than having to sleep in the bathroom to keep warm. Noel showed up to work this morning, but only after Rachel stopped by to pick him up. His car, a three year old Nissan Altima wouldn't start. John said it was a struggle to get his Honda Element going as well. I was horrified to see the Maxima's temperature gauge when I drove away from the police station after a long boring night at work:

I don't suppose the National Weather Service would agree but this equals the lowest temperature recorded in Key West. However by the time I got home all records were shattered:And my gauge under the house was in pretty close agreement: It's not freezing, technically, but my eggplant doesn't like this any more than I do:

Ten days of this is too much but the winter is young and I fear this isn't the last of the cold we will have to live through before Spring.

Vignettes XXX

I do not always ride wearing boots. I very rarely ride in sandals, though I should point out I always keep my feet on the pegs. Having confessed one more time to the awful truth that I do not wear all the gear all the time I need to admit that other people's choices of riding footwear do confound me from time to time. I recently photographed a Harley pillion in pink furry boots (Cold Snap was the essay) and now we have this: Seen on North Roosevelt Boulevard from behind the wheel of Cheyenne's kennel. Stilettos seem unsuitable for a motorcyclist, but they seem doubly inappropriate in Key West where one tends to the more informal end of the fashion spectrum.On the third hand- what the hell- come as you please. God knows she did.

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We were walking in the pine woods of Big Pine and Cheyenne was rooting around with even more vigor than usual. All I could hear was the rustling of thatch palms and the deep throated snort of a Labrador sniffing for all she was worth. I suspect the homeless who make their camps in the woods are not as neat and tidy as I try to be in my compulsive way. When I was younger and slept where I could when I traveled I left no sign of my illegal camping and disappeared on the road before the suburban populace woke up. Locally people who sleep rough leave their lives out for all to see (and get pissed off about). Here I found their bike repair shop apparently. She may possibly have found their larder, I hope, or more likely their dump. We did not exchange kisses for a good few hours after that walk. I'd rather not know.

With my keen appreciation for the irony of the human condition I rather liked this weathered sign flapping off a rusty nail in the middle of a tatty boundary fence. "Permanent, Self Adhesive Vinyl All Weather Durability" is what it says. The advertising meets specs, but the original message of the sign (No Something, of course) has been lost to the ravages of time.

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A new road sign has appeared at the traffic light in Big Pine Key. This is where you turn for No Name Pub, taking the right fork (Wilder Road) not the left fork (Key Deer Boulevard) which goes to the Blue Hole, the Road Prison and dead ends at Port Pine Heights. The Episcopals actually have their own structure not attached to the Road Prison though their choice of sign location leaves a whiff of ambiguity in the air: And as in Key West you can't swing a cat in these islands without hitting a church somewhere. This lot are promising more than just a few tired old New Year's Resolutions.
It seemed rather bold in the face of most people's desire to simply get fit or quit smoking or something mundane. I think I'd like to come back as a mid level Goldman Sachs executive thanks, and pick up large annual bonuses for doing God's work.

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Pelicans on a lamp post.

A natural lunch break:

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A mystery vehicle:

I have absolutely no clue what this contraption is. I thought perhaps it was part of the SETI project in Puerto Rico, or even a bullshit meter for the new century. It turned I continued elsewhere.It disappeared and now I will never know. Perhaps it is something as mundane as an unusual antenna for a HAM radio operator. I could never have got these pictures had I been riding the Bonneville.

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The owner of the Gardens Motel in Key West has been raising a stink about plans to build a new city hall across the street from her place of business. Mayor Cates is grumbling about the plan saying $18 million is too much and he wants to buy Glynn Archer School on White Street from the School District. New Year's morning I saw this bottle of beer, doing the unthinkable and disfiguring a column of the hotel. I hope the perpetrator got away with it because whoever it was, was playing with fire.
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I saw one of these badges quite by accident recently:

They used to be precious, these transient licenses and then recently the city allowed people redeveloping hotels (Parrot Bay springs to mind) to develop each hotel room into a self catering apartment and surplus licenses could be sold to the first bidder. Singh's organization was offering these things in the newspaper at something like thirty grand apiece last year. The rule is that homes may be rented for not less than twenty eight days unless you have a transient license. The idea is to preserve residential neighborhoods by preventing wholesale short term rentals turning the city into a boozy frat party. I suppose it has worked to some extent and the supply of licenses is supposed to be limited. The one illustrated looks venerably old.

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The full moon is a mixed blessing in my mind. On the one hand I enjoy the silver moonlight and the way the marshes and mangroves are illuminated, on the other the full moon wipes out all the stars and on my street where street lights do not exist the night sky can be quite a spectacle on a dark moon-less night.

We've had some wild skies lately too, with cirrus clouds streaking the sunset in all directions. I was escorting Cheyenne home from a Big Pine walk and as I was in the car, and not on the Bonneville it was the work of a moment to take a couple of pictures:

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They tell us that retail sales in 2009 ended up a bit on the dismal performance of 2008 as though that should encourage us to believe the economy is getting better. The columnist called Peter Egan in Cycle World magazine is finally coming to grips with the devastation of the economy and in his latest columns says the last Ducati dealer in Wisconsin has closed it's doors which is important to him because that's where he lives. In Key West three days before Christmas Sears looked like a mausoleum.

Perhaps 2010 will be a good year for us all and perhaps it will be good as we learn to re-dimension our lives. I cannot imagine that shrinking the size of the economy will be anything but painful and stressful, and a return to an agrarian lifestyle none of us has known would be little short of awful. The people who are speculating that the old way of life, the bubble economy as it were, is dead offer us visions of a world where living simply, will be joyous and stress free once we get used to it. My own experience tells me people and their problems transcend their lifestyles and whether we live in mud huts or in soulless apartment complexes we will continue to get on each other's nerves as never before.

We may not be shopping like there's no tomorrow, but there are still nearly seven billion of us on the planet. That makes for a lot of hamsters in a cage that cannot grow any bigger, so we squabble it seems all the time.

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On a more cheerful note I spotted several worthy signs around key West:

Yvonne's advertising at Conch Scoops my preferred Cuban coffee shop, which is located in Searstown (her mother's meat empanadas are delicious) gave me a wry laugh:Cooling off has been no problem for the past week with daytime highs barely in the 60s and night time lows a bone chilling 50 (10C). Remember please that normally we like highs in the 80s and lows in the 70s. And the wind chill has made it all much worse. Ice cream has been out of the question. This is the gate of a million surprises:I photographed it on the 400 block of Amelia Street. This next mobile billboard has been in town for a while. It appears to be some sort of cycle repair shop as far as I can tell it's based in Marathon, or maybe not. It's hard to miss:I saw it again last week and spotted a bumper sticker on the back which refers to the official philosophy of Key West is that All Humans Are Created Equal. This was originally in support of gay rights but nowadays when anyone gets pissed off about anything the city motto comes into play, which can be seen on any number of vehicles around town. Hate roosters? Aren't they members of our one human family...? If you answer "No!" you quickly find yourself in a shit storm of controversy. Then there are the wags who like to take the free bumper stickers and carefully slice them and dice them to say simple messages like "One Homo Family" or "One Man Family" and variations on that simple theme. In this case Bicycle Repair Man has gone several steps further. I rather liked it.

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I have to confess I have taken a nauseatingly large number of pictures of Cheyenne and they have to go somewhere. This is after all a diary of some sort for me and by extension, of her.

She was like a kid at Christmas when we got her the bed. When she isn't out riding around with me, she's out walking the woods with me and when neither of those events are crowding her life she is recharging her batteries here. I can't stand the idea this may be the first real bed she's had. After a long morning's walk she likes to grab a few winks in the car on the way home:

Beds everywhere in Cheyenne's new life.

Florida Snow

The National Weather Service says snow, hail and sleet have been falling across Florida and even in Miami the low last night hit 39 degrees. Nancy sent me this picture from Ocala where frost is always a possibility in winter:It's been going on too long, and I myself am starting to feel like an iguana, sluggish and sleepy all the time. Supposedly it should be over by Thursday and not a moment too soon, with a low predicted tonight of 45 in Key West. Paula said her living room never made it above 50 degrees (10C), and she came to work in her (fake fur) lined parka which looks both absurd and enviably comfortable at the same time. The only good thing I can see is that we did have some sunshine this afternoon, and no crowds are expected to be about in the city tonight. Last night we had one arrest, and I rather think the trespasser didn't do too badly at all considering how cold it was all night outside the jail. I couldn't bring myself to ride the Bonneville to work tonight, blaming the 35 mile per hour north winds, for making it feel just too cold.

The Jury Box

I got to sit in the jury box for a few hours Monday at the Aronovitz Federal Building on Simonton Street in the courtroom of Judge Jose Martinez a jovial bearded man who resembled nothing quite so much as Ed Asner with a sense of humor to match. I was not in the box for the trial, just for the question and answer session they inflict upon potential jurors to gauge suitability as a juror. I found this rather inadequate, beard-less image of him online at a US Immigration website:

There is a rule forbidding picture taking inside Federal Courthouses which is a drag for someone like me, but my summons to jury duty was unavoidable as my request to be dismissed had been refused already by the clerk in Miami who oversees our jurisdiction. So I walked Cheyenne at six o'clock in the morning and we drove into town together where I left her in the car at the Park and Ride structure at Grinnell Street. She is getting better about being left alone but this had the potential to be an all day affair so I preferred to take her with me. I wolfed a large con leche and a cheese toast at the Cuban Queen and hiked down to the Federal Building. I need not have hurried, as the line was out the door with part of the sixty potential jurors waiting to get through the security checks that are endemic these days.

Many people view jury duty as a chore but to me it is part of the privilege of citizenship, however that privilege is tempered by the fact that I am never going to get picked by virtue of my trade. Which means I am in the pool of potential jurors in a small town where the pool is necessarily small, but my only function is to flesh out the numbers to give the appearance of a choice in the selection of a jury.

The selection process is laborious and it goes by it's French name (French? Zut alors!) of Voir-Dire, which means "to see" and "to hear." This is the method by which lawyers and the defendants get to choose who judges the evidence in the case. The whole process has to be spelled out painfully by the judge who has to assume that there are people in the jury pool who are complete novices in the process, and it is a fine thing actually to see how carefully justice is administered. However it takes a l-o-o-o-n-g time. We each had to define ourselves by our jobs and by the jobs of our nearest relatives. That being the case I can say with absolute certainty no defense attorney in the world wants a Police Department employee judging the veracity of an accused drug smuggler and here we had three of them all lined up with their attorneys. I was clearly not going to be selected but I had to go through the questioning.

The interior of the Federal Building is as you might imagine, cream walls, wooden floors and heavy oak doors. Federal Marshals glide through the corridors in their blue blazers looking like clerks and not at all like gun wielding Tommy Lee Jones in some improbable movie role. The building makes no provision for jury selection so we were shuffled into a courtroom and got some instructions, a room full of strangers with nothing much to do or say, and while we waited the late comers who had seized up the state of affairs better than I, were shown into the room.

"Ha," said Phil as he slid into a seat next to me. "You look like a pro at this." I was reading a penny dreadful novel about serial killers and the FBI but I refrained from pointing out to Phil that he was clearly the expert as he had timed his appearance just right, while I had gulped my breakfast and rushed to be exactly on time. We chatted and Phil told me how people used to gather in the Federal Building when it was also the Post Office to exchange gossip. I ran my idea past him that to return to those halcyon days we should blow up the seven mile bridge and force people to come by ferry. "And so we'd all experience a drop in our standard of living?" Phil the pragmatist said, thus reminding us all that the "good old days" were a time of no money and not much opportunity. Phil plays the piano at Little Palm island resort and has done so for two decades. "I'm the longest serving employee at Little Palm," he said thoughtfully, just before we were called in to another courtroom for the Voir-Dire.

I made the room laugh when Judge Martinez asked me his rote question about marital status: "Happy" I said, which set the theme for the morning. One juror said she was happily divorced, "I took him to the cleaners," she said when asked if she worked outside the home. There were quite a few "investors" and women who didn't work outside the home in the pool, but I noted they were from Key Largo, home to the wealthy people of the Keys. Federal Jury selection is county wide. Phil contrived to draw attention to himself immediately when the Judge noticed he was not taking the oath. "I don't like to swear to God" Phil said. He got a separate oath asking him to swear or affirm without being helped by God. The when he was asked if he could be impartial Phil looked glumly around the room and said "I don't really agree with the drug laws relating to marijuana in this country." There was a stricken pause. Judge Martinez, with a twinkle in his eye said. "I suppose we should take it you feel the drug laws should be more draconian and more strictly enforced?" Phil the musician ran his fingers through his wildly tousled hair and said: "I'm not sure I see the point of prosecuting marijuana dealers." Judge Martinez started down the path to discussion and then pulled back, "This isn't the place for a debate about our drug laws." Later while we were sitting in the corridor on another of our interminable pauses, Phil's name was called and he was excused. He grinned unabashed at me, the "professional juror in waiting" with my novel, and ran for the exit. I sighed; I knew I wasn't going to get selected but I had to go through the motions, so help me god.

"Could you agree to a not guilty verdict and go back to work and tell your colleagues what you voted?" asked the ever jovial judge when I said I could be impartial despite my job. "It would be an interesting debate," I said, "but I know how to defend my motives and my opinions." When the final fourteen jurors were called (twelve plus two alternates who get to sit in judgement but only vote if there is a member of the jury who has to drop out before the end of the trial which was projected to last two weeks) my name was not among them. I dropped off my request for parking reimbursement and ran out of the building into the pale winter sunshine outside. Cheyenne was glad to see me when I awoke her from a deep sleep, and the rest of the day was ours.

Had I served on the federal jury I would have been excused for two years from further service, as it is I am excused from state and federal duty for one whole year at this point. Then I know I will be called again, and again as usual. While strolling the dog park I noticed a poster for a play which had a very well received run at the Waterfront Playhouse. We went to see the play before Christmas and enjoyed the production thoroughly. It was more thought provoking than the well known movie by the same name featuring Henry Fonda. I came away from the play with many more questions in my mind than I had after the last time I saw the film. A friend of ours said, to our surprise, that she had never seen the film so the plot came as a complete surprise to her. It has since occurred to me that perhaps not serving on a jury is a blessing, I am judged by my trade and that will preclude me forever from sitting in judgement on some else's motives and actions. Following the drama of the play it is clear that presentation can be everything and who knows what truths would be presented in the course of the two weeks of the trial that I might have had to sit in judgement upon? Perhaps my non-selection spared me from making some horrible mistake, and sending someone to Federal prison for decades for smuggling marijuana might cause even drug free me some sleepless nights. Much to the surprise of the defense attorneys who rejected me from their jury.

Nutty Weather

Currently 50 degrees with a windchill of 44 with colder temperatures to follow tonight after the wind blows the clouds and rain away. These conditions are nothing for people Up North but are extreme for the Keys. I could see my breath today which was a bit of a shocker, when I braved outdoor conditions to pick some lettuce.

So we got a special weather statement, just for us tonight:

THE STRONG NORTH WINDS WILL DRAW COLD AIR SOUTHWARD THROUGH TONIGHT... WITH TEMPERATURES FALLING INTO THE 40S. UPPER KEYS COMMUNITIES WILL BE COLDEST WITH LOWS AROUND 40 BOTH TONIGHT AND SUNDAY NIGHT. WIND CHILLS WILL DIP INTO THE 30S IN MOST UPPER AND MIDDLE KEYS COMMUNITIES WITH WIND CHILLS DOWN TO AT LEAST 40 IN THE LOWER KEYS.

A WIND CHILL ADVISORY WILL LIKELY BE REQUIRED TONIGHT FOR THE UPPER KEYS AND PORTIONS OF THE MIDDLE KEYS.

FLORIDA KEYS RESIDENTS ARE ENCOURAGED TO DRESS WARMLY... TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE WET AND RAINY CONDITIONS. ALSO... CARE PROPERLY FOR ANY SENSITIVE PETS OR PLANTS.

THE FOLLOWING IS THE LATEST COLD WEATHER SHELTER INFORMATION...

THE BURTON MEMORIAL UNITED METHODIST CHURCH... LOCATED AT 93001 US HIGHWAY 1 IN TAVERNIER... THE ISLAND CHRISTIAN SCHOOL... FAMILY LIFE CENTER... LOCATED AT 83400 OVERSEAS HIGHWAY IN ISLAMORADA... AND ST. PETER CATHOLIC CHURCH... LOCATED AT MILE MARKER 31.3 IN BIG PINE KEY WILL BE OPERATIONAL AS COLD WEATHER SHELTERS WHEN THE TEMPERATURE IS BELOW 50 DEGREES. HOURS OF OPERATION ARE FROM 900 PM TO 700 AM.

As odd as it sounds there are many people with no form of heat in their homes (or boats) and the cold is exacerbated by people not being at all used to it, not having cold weather clothes and the particular nature of the damp air in these marshy islands, which makes it all extra bone numbing. My hope is that we will have a quiet night at work as it will hopefully be too cold for people to go outdoors...It is an ill wind that blows no one any good!

Before The Freeze

"I've got to get out," the lady walking her dog said," before the Big Freeze." Oh, I thought, haven't we had enough already? I do understand the pleasure that one can feel when the heat and humidity of summer is broken by a strong cold front, but rolling around enjoying prolonged temperatures below 70 degrees (21C) merits deportation in my opinion. I had an appointment in town and the idea was to tire Cheyenne out with a long street walk and as we ambled and sniffed I got it into my head there are a lot of small odd things about Key West that keep catching my eye, even after all this time. Perhaps Christmas turtles aren't particular to Key west (there must be a Chinese factory somewhere spewing out these absurdities) but they look odd to my jaundiced eye.
It might have been pre-freeze but Friday morning dawned cold and clear. My feet were cold after I got out of bed and I was sure I should have been able to see my breath as we scooted downstairs to look for the car. Frankly at the moment I'm glad Cheyenne is my excuse not to ride. This rooster was sunk in the dirt and unwilling to leave his snug nest even when the dog rolled on by. That's how cold the locals feel it around here:Someone had hung a pair of skimpy purple panties on a tree in Bill Butler Park. I have come across such trophies while walking in the mangroves and I wonder if it is some new fad I am missing.Orin of Old Skool Scootin of Portland Oregon mentions a campaign to "Keep Portland Weird" and I recall a similar campaign in Santa Cruz, California during my twenty years in that city. I came to the conclusion that by the time such a campaign is underway (and I've seen such bumper stickers in Austin, Texas when we were checking out if we wanted to live there), it's too late. Key West has no need of such a motto as people already work hard to keep things weird and the newcomers have been overwhelmed by the weirdness. This is the time of year the whiny snowbirds fill the Citizen's Voice with complaints about noise, and trash and so forth but the weirdness continues unabated. I find small things much more interesting than the display of forced eccentricity played out for tourists. This aircraft flew overhead when I had my camera out and the combination of salmon pink, aquamarine and flower power graphics struck me as very weird indeed. Perhaps it is just advertising something: So I figured to myself a sign telling people not to trespass is always silly when it's obviously private property. This is the US after all. In England trespassing is not illegal but of course here it is, yet people feel the need to reinforce their fear of trespass with the oddest sense of what's needed. I mean would anyone consider trespassing here if they hadn't put the sign up? "Private Property" and welcome to it I say. This next one is in urgent need of a dumpster, and there were no signs on this yard. perhaps they are hoping someone will trespass if only to take away the refrigerator under the tarp?

I don't know if pink flamingos are odd when found holding up the eaves of a house but that was how these charmers struck me: "The Stumbledoor" - I always feel like I'm missing some obvious cultural allusion when I see stuff like this:Key West continues to be packed with normal people, visitors and their money and sometimes they are more obvious than even they imagine. The rolling suitcase was a dead giveaway in this case, but the flip flops? Damnation:they are on vacation and one wears sandals on one's tropical holiday. Never mind the temperature.I have enjoyed a couple of nights off but when I went out to dinner last night I was reminded work is never very far away. In the middle of the meal a woman at the next door table got up and started yelling for help, as her husband had passed out in his chair. "Anyone know CPR?" I called out hoping against hope. Unfortunately in a restaurant full of people there was only me. Happily he had a pulse, I remembered what to do (training works) and before I had to give him a kiss he started to come round. Rescue was on scene surprisingly quickly and they wheeled him away. It occurred to me that calling the Red Cross or the American Heart Association or asking at your local hospital about CPR classes might be a good thing to do if you haven't already. If I hadn't been there, of a hundred people in the building, there was no one else who knew what to do.

It turned out he was from Quebec and if I'd known that I would have held back and just finished my cheeseburger while it was still hot. (That's a joke. Not sarcasm, okay?).