Baron's View

I found this revolting image on Baron's View a Canadian who normally posts photos culled from around the Internet. I don't generally read his blog owing to the lack of original content but I saw the image in bobskoot's web list (the list includes pictures). Why Baron's View thinks it's okay to denigrate our efforts to improve a health care system that denies coverage to 50 million Americans when 30 million Canadians enjoy socialized coverage I couldn't say. To use this image to do that is appalling, and I am not a huge fan, to put it politely, of President Obama. This is not funny, it's not witty and it doesn't advance the debate over the now defunct health care reform one iota. Indeed, now that health care reform has been derailed by one election and the medical industry had already won every concession it ever needed in that unhappy debate, this piece of filth isn't even relevant to political debate in the US.

Having said that I am not a fan of this President I should point out that it is his lack of action that has exhausted my patience, not his "socialism," for which I do not see one iota of evidence. God knows the insurance industry cheered when he proposed his health care reform and their stocks went through the roof. Socialism indeed! If the right opposes any change to the current health care delivery system then give us rational reasons. If the right thinks current health care delivery methods need no change say so. They can't say that because we all know the current system is an impossible unfair mess. So they call the President names, they attack his citizenship and they call him a Communist. And the Republican leadership goes along with that crap. I call that sort of behavior morally and politically bankrupt and it contributes to the sense that our country is no longer governable. Tea Partiers want change, they say, but they support this kind of racist immoral behavior so when they say they want change to "Save the Republic" I dread to think how much worse they will make the current mess if they ever got enough support to influence our democracy. As long as they are a bunch of sidelined know nothings we can keep stumbling along in the hellish twilight world of Republican versus Democrat.
I want a President that really does stand for change for the better and I just wish President Obama were that leader. On the other hand we learn today that stimulus efforts may have created at least 1.8 million jobs, maybe more according to the Congressional Budget Office and Bloomberg reports housing may be more stable and industrial output may be in the black. It all seems rather feeble but one can only hope it's the start of something better. No doubt the Republicans will redouble their efforts to convince their followers the President is a Muslim.

Under The Kapok Tree

My wife and I had a Badboy burrito lunch, with cafe con leche (one sugar), in front of the courthouse at Fleming and Whitehead. A woman was throwing tennis balls for her small dog, Cheyenne was in the car parked round the corner. All was well with the world.

And the farmyard animals were wandering around cheering up the visitors, who like to see chickens on the streets. My wife thinks I am odd in that I find it odd that other people think the chickens are an oddity on the streets. "You grew up in a small village and chickens were normal," she says in mitigation of my odd-ness.

So we finished our burritos and went to the movies. I left early and my wife called my cell phone when she left the cinema, arranging to meet back at the car. I went back to the picnic table at 500 Whitehead Street and waited. Cheyenne rooted around. Then I realized I could see the back of the Mile Marker Zero sign at Fleming and Whitehead from where I was sitting...Everyone wants their picture taken next to the end (or the beginning) of US Highway One. Well, lots of people do. Some just buzz by on their rental scooters in a blur of speed:

For some people the 500 block of Whitehead Street is just the way home:

I was enjoying sitting and watching the world go by. One of the things I like about Cheyenne is that she likes doing the same, sitting next to me sharing the moment:

Overhead the mixture of clouds and blue sky was framed by the almost leafless kapok tree. An acquaintance of mine used to call it the "flying buttress tree" thanks to the extravagant projections at the base of the trunk. He said they reminded him of a cathedral's walls. And then it was time for the family to be reunited.

We sat together a little while longer as we had time to spare before our next appointment. More family fun at Mile Marker Zero.

I find the traditionally Southern architecture of the county building to be a little surprising in a small town as urbane as Key West. Yet it speaks of solidity and represents just one more piece of history in this historic little southern town.

Evening was falling making the grass and the brick buildings and the flags and the palm trees more evocative than ever in the growing darkness.

The Green Parrot Bar was down there at Southard Street gearing up for a another night of fun, fun, fun.

And the family photograph had moved to the flying buttresses of the kapok tree from the Zero sign.I enjoyed the action of the figures clambering but Dad wanted everyone frozen in a crisp still life, faces looking at the camera. They obeyed killing all spontaneity."You'll see these trees in Guatemala," Dad said.
"They think God lives at the top, but I've not seen him," I said.
"Keep looking," Dad said shortly.
"We're staying in Marathon," Mom said. "Luckily there's lots to do in Key West on a gray day like today." I figured these were not people who would remain unfazed by an encounter with a drag queen on the street. Marathon is a good refuge for people who don't like surprises. "We couldn't go fishing in these winds," Mom added, "so we decided to come see Key West..." and get out before darkness fell bringing with it all sorts of unsavory, unChristian rascals. That sounded like the unspoken thought of a concerned mother from somewhere conventional. Dad finished posing his little stick figures and off they meandered. I have never really thought of myself as particularly radical but I saw this bumper sticker later and thought that "Sleeps With Dogs" might sound quite racy in some places.I'd like to think my Labrador is smarter than most honor students but I hope that's not the case otherwise the future for us all is probably bleaker than expected.

Downstairs Enclosures, Again

When we bought our home on Ramrod Key, my wife and I had no qualms about the purchase owing to the absence of issues. We had no downstairs enclosures, no questionable lot lines, no unexplained buildings on the lot. Indeed our house is so small, 770 square feet it fits in the lot with tons of room to spare. The focus in the Lower Keys has always been to create the largest possible home on a landmass that doesn't have much build-able land in the first place. Thus one finds tall, fat homes squeezed into lots that end up not offering comfortable offsets. I like my offsets.Perhaps it was that we moved ashore from a sailboat, but our home seemed, and still seems spacious enough for two even if my wife would like a second toilet and a larger closet... But we have no downstairs enclosures at our home and I like it that way. The theory is that open space underneath the house prevents damage from floods to the stilt homes in the Keys. This is a typical manufactured home raised on stilts and designed to allow residents to avoid the effects of flooding. Over the years the height has increased. When my home was built in 1987 it was designed to meet a code requirement putting it about 8 feet (2.5 meters) above the floodplain. My neighbors with newer homes have to build their homes a good deal taller to meet new regulations but enclosures downstairs are strictly regulated for all. Serfs Not Citizens is the brainchild of a wealthy Lower Keys resident who wants to spend his "blessings" forcing the Feds to change their rules. The idea is to somehow force the Federal Emergency Management Agency to bow to the will of Serfs Not Citizens and allow people to build legal residential enclosures under their stilt homes. This magnanimous gesture would allow poor people to live in the Keys, the theory goes. However recent population loss of officially nine percent has persuaded Serfs Not Citizens to quote this statistic in recent newspaper ads, as being caused by the enclosure rule which seems odd as the organizations also accuses the Feds of not enforcing the rule and thus turning a blind eye to the creation of illegal enclosures. Enclosed spaces under homes are supposed to be not for living thus toilets and kitchens are not allowed but storage and garages are. This is not good enough apparently and the drive to allow ground level living is attempting to strong arm county commissioner George Nugent, long the voice of common sense on the Board of County Commissioners (and he's a Republican at that!). He says FEMA has already been approached and show no interest at all in making changes. Nothing deterred the drive to make changes on behalf of the impoverished citizens of the Keys continues apace and the Commissioners are slated to discuss this quixotic effort once again tomorrow.The legal storage enclosure also has a flow through grate to relieve pressure should flooding fill the downstairs space.

I have seen this same attitude, deliberate blindness to the likelihood of natural disasters, elsewhere. When I lived in California and forest fires had burned down homes or mudslides had wiped away sub-divisions, the former home owners would ALWAYS be quoted as saying, bedraggled but defiant, that they would rebuild. Why? I would ask myself. And here we are in the same position with a slight variant. The Feds provide subsidized Flood Insurance to allow us to have mortgages in this slightly absurd recreational market in the Keys. This isn't a place where farms will be maintained or factories will be rebuilt. Some of us eke out a living serving visitors in hotels and bars and the rest of us make a decent living working for government agencies. The rest live on private incomes ("Blessings" for those that think Lazarus was the rich man). By defying the Feds, flood insurance will be canceled and mortgages will be unsustainable, thus only blessed persons will be able to buy and live here. End of story.

In an effort to democratize the demands against the Federal Emergency Management Agency the story goes that the enclosure law prevents the poor from finding affordable homes in the Keys. Enclosures help buyers pay their mortgages and allow people to rent modest apartments in the most expensive housing market in the State (most expensive comparing wages to costs. Palm Beach prices will make even a Keys resident's eyes water). That may be true but curiously there is no drive to limit Trailer Park conversions and downstairs enclosures carry a certain level of risk to the structural integrity of the homes involved. In it's copious newspaper advertising Serfs Not Citizens claims the recent 9 percent drop in population in the Keys is due to the enclosure restrictions, which does not take into account the fact that other ads also berate FEMA for not enforcing the law consistently. I suggest the lack of living wage jobs has forced people out, not the absence of potential garage conversion apartments. On top of that, increasing the population of the Keys will increase hurricane evacuation times and like them or not those times are used to limit growth on lots not yet built. So lets have more garage conversions and fewer new homes. Very Marxist I'm sure.


But wait, there's more. Those of us that have lived through the inevitable hurricane story know perfectly well there will be disasters and when they come people will line up with their hands held out expecting the Feds to make it right, and bitching horribly when it takes too long. Already our socialized housing insurance in Florida, called Citizens, is grossly underfunded to face major hurricane damage but here in the Keys, land of the Comfortable Fantasy, there is a component that is ready to take on the Feds and demand they act in a totally unbusinesslike way and give us something for nothing. I stand on the sidelines and marvel.

Waterfront Walk

They named the islands as souvenirs, after a fashion, of the men who worked on bringing the railroad to Key West in 1912.

I ducked off the Overseas Highway and parked the Maxima (the "kennel") in the dirt:One is never far from salt water around here.

The southern half of Ohio Key was donated to the National Wildlife Refuge supposedly to allow the northern half to be developed. So far the trailer park is still there but this sign has sprouted on this side of the road:

Some strange person thought a leafless bush was a good place to put a sponge. Someone else came by and thought it a good idea to take a picture of it:From where I was one could look back at the causeway that is Highway One: That's the road heading north toward the Seven Mile Bridge: Artistic junque:
It looked rather lonely to be a bird on this particular stretch of beach:

Naturally Cheyenne found something disgusting.

Fishing floats as Christmas decorations:

We were not alone. I think this guy came under the bridge from the trailer park.

We said good morning like humans, they sniffed each other's butts like dogs (for that is what they were) and no permanent friendship was forged:

Happily Cheyenne found nothing of interest in the blue blobs washed up on the beach. We call them Portuguese Men O'War:

I am told these jellyfish are actually colonies of creatures traveling together inside the bubble, which acts like a sail.

The interior of the island is a pond of what I think is salt water owing to Cheyenne's lack of interest in it. She usually likes to drink fresh water especially if it is of dubious purity. I carry a bottle of clean drinking water for her which she will only drink lacking anything worse.The pond is surrounded by thick vegetation, just the thing for a busy dog to sprawl in:And here is another man of war (the blue thing, not the pink things, for those would be my feet):

The best time to walk the Keys' abbreviated beaches is at low tide. We hit a low, low tide. If you want long sandy beaches you need to go to Ft Myers Beach. Around here it's rocks and seaweed and shallow water.

Okay everybody: what is the blue thing?

In the background the old Flagler bridge foundations, as solid as ever and now used to support what is essentially a fishing pier:

These aren't proper beaches I know, not like those vast spacious stretches of sand on the mainland of Florida. But I like them just the same, these rocky island beaches.

A Key West Holiday

"We are going into town!" my wife announced. Today is President's Day and by chance I had the whole weekend off. Fun, fun fun. And all activities planned by Herself. Cheyenne was ready to go Saturday, to start the outing from the kitchen.The cold weather from Up North had reached Key West. The first part of the program was to go to the Tropic. We saw a Hitler Channel special, "Four Seasons Lodge" a documentary about Auschwitz survivors vacationing in the Catskills, as improbable as that sounds.We are members and get to see as many movies as we want for $300 a year each, so she stayed for "Crazy Heart" about a washed up singer and a fresh young woman falling in love, but seeing me restless in my chair she released me. I ran out of the theater into the freezing cold of a winter afternoon. If I confess it was 60/15 (Canadian) degrees I shall get grief but so it was. We went for a walk Cheyenne and I in the brisk afternoon air, she in her fur coat I in my wool sweatshirt .I had no plans and the dog was following her nose so we went west into Bahama Village, a fearsome place where vacationers and snowbirds protect themselves with high fences and secret gate codes. This old codger was pressing buttons and I was ready to call my office and ask them for the code to let him in but he kept pushing away and failing to follow instructions:Lori, the manager of the Tropic is a brave soul, she lives outside the confines of the gated community and rides her bike alone through the Village:Dade Pine, impervious to tropical weather peeking through the paint:This elderly Chevrolet (year anyone?) lives in Off Street Parking across from Blue Heaven restaurant, a place visitors go to spend lots of money and have an authentic Key West experience:And smoke cigarettes apparently. It seemed rather old fashioned to see this wrist drooping elegantly from the balcony: It may be weak of me to feel the cold so far above freezing temperatures, but I am not alone:Cheyenne came away empty mouthed from her foray into the shrubbery of Baptist Lane. I was hoping she wasn't getting stoned in there.Scooter color. I wonder why they don't think of getting around like this when they go home? High mileage low impact four stroke scooters. Their time has come even in Peoria, I'd like to think. I keep photographing this wreck on Thomas Street for fear that next time I come by it will be gone, imploded by a gust of wind:

I think the cyclist was wearing a helmet from habit, being probably from Up North, not for fear of falling houses. Though that is starting to seem a legitimate fear at this spot, unhappily.Out with the old and in with the new. New housing starts may be abysmal across the nation but here on Fort Street there is construction underway:Key West youngsters out slouching around on a Saturday afternoon. I remember being bored when I was their age. I am glad I am all grown up and entitled to make my own, if solitary, entertainment. I always found being a pack animal to be a bore.I find Key West youngsters to be polite on the whole and I am always surprised when people disagree vehemently with me. I know nothing of children so when I see a father out with a dog and two offspring it looks quaint to my unfamiliar eyes:They used to keep ammunition down here in the cement missile silos or whatever they are. The fence separates civilians from the Truman Annex Navy Base.

On this side of the fence I walked past the band room. There was a dedicated teacher who taught music here to much acclaim then she got ousted as I recall in one of those "He said, She said" arguments that went public between a teacher and her board.

I wonder if they still come and do their uplifting thing here any more.

I think it was another of those private social endeavors that got so many fire plugs painted wild colors around town. This one at the corner of Fort and Geraldine:

Someone cut back the tree that used to sprout. Now it looks like Art on the decaying brick wall.

And who, one asks, threw white paint here?

The pause that refreshes:

She refuses the filtered rainwater I carry in the car and prefers the fermented puddles we find outdoors. There is no explanation. Nor do I know where a motorcycle with a rear tire this big is a good thing. I know Florida has a lot of very straight roads but it seems to be more tire than necessary. There again I ride a 900cc motorcycle to commute 27 miles so that too might be considered overly large an engine for the job.

Another mystery car. I thought it might be a Jeep. I wonder if they keep waterproofs in the trunk like I do in my saddlebag?

Blue door. A study. Luckily I do more than one picture a day otherwise this would be it and I'd have nothing else to do.

I got grief for my recent Stock Island essay which I closed with a picture of a pair of sneakers drying on a fence. We do actually know what clothes lines are supposed to look like:I would like to remember to come by here on Angela Street when this papaya is turning orange to steal it, like some asshole who stole my sole pomegranate last year. But I shan't steal it, I shall just pretend I stole it when it eventually disappears. I am rather too bourgeois to steal toilet paper from work and other people's fruit from their trees.
This church got refurbished finally and now it looks magnificent. I hope God is happy with the work. It looked good from down here.

A pirate bicycle with a trunk labeled "Booty" in front of Key West Bank. I suppose when the joke has to be explained it is rather too labored.My wife said she liked "Crazy Heart" but it wasn't worth an Oscar. I guess I did better by taking Cheyenne for a walk, though I do like Maggie Gyllenhall, a pinko commie babe.

The cold closed in on us as the temperature dropped after dark to 50 American, 10 (the rest of the World, kiss riepe's ass). We went to Lisa and Josh's and ate mac and cheese and ribs and drank Gentleman Jack and so to bed.