Tell a friend you're moving to Florida and almost invariably they wonder why. Granted its snow-free, but isn't it humid and flat and boring? By implication life in Florida is geared to old folks gumming their grits in the sunset of their arthritic existence . Old stereotypes survive long past their due date, and while its true this is the "Sunshine State" for a reason its not a place just for older people to retire to anymore. St Petersburg used to be "God's waiting room" with all its old green benches lined with old folks perched like pigeons waiting to die. The benches are gone and the population is a lot younger than it used to be. Lots of people have discovered the benefits of a snow-free life. 
Southard Street, on Sunday in Key West, the road is empty fading into Duval Street in the end... and it looks just endless doesn't it? I swear this town plays tricks with one's perceptions. Many residents hate getting off The Rock, as they call it and dread making a car trip even ten miles North. That far? they say...Fully one third of the 25,000 residents don't have cars and rely on their feet bicycles and scooters to get around. Try planning their evacuation in a hurricane threat! The City rounds up lots of buses...For those that know, Key West is a different corner of Florida and frankly its the only corner I want to live in. Fort Myers didn't work for me and St Petersburg didn't either though its my second choice, a beach town with all the amenities and a few attempts at cosmopolitan living. Tampa, the old industrial city was not my scene and the East Coast of Florida is one long strip mall and they look at me funny when i wander within range. I don't fit in well among the fashion conscious. Any further north and the sunshine State freeezes every winter which is a total drag. So here I am, trapped on my little finger of islands poking out into the ocean, frost free and surrounded by fruits flakes and weirdos. Let's face it, there are some determinedly odd people on The Rock, not your outdated Florida stereotypes at all. This is a retired banker, Key West style:
The yellow spot on his head is a live parakeet ( I don't know why) and those are his bare feet, not flesh colored motorcycle boots. Aside from the determined efforts of some to be weird, Key West enjoys a layout designed by accident in the 1820's and maintained by the general lack of room to sprawl. Much of the architecture that is prized today would have been torn down in the 1960's had there been the money but by the time gay men infiltrated Key West (a busy Navy port) and started spending money, the old wooden houses were ripe for saving. And here they are, formerly Florida's wealthiest city, then a gay mecca, and now a resort town transforming itself into an enclave of wealth.
This is an eyebrow house so called because the upstairs windows are tucked under the extended eaves. The design failed to allow for hot air rising and the windows trapped the heat instead of dispersing it. Eyebrows are cute but not useful ( thank heavens for air conditioning!). Eyebrows are an archtectural curiosity nd well represented on our streets, preserved by an accident of time. 
This house shades its occupants with Bahama shutters that open outwards from the bottom. They are traditional but don't let in much light. Here's the ever popular bungalow style, one I am familiar with from my many years living in Santa Cruz, California where sitting on the porch would get you pneumonia in the fog and damp:
Key West's green and leafy streets are littered with alleys and lanes with sorts of eccentric names, Gruntbone, Free School, Love, Nassau and this one which isn't at all eccentric but Canfield was the name of the wealthiest family in Santa Cruz (Larry "Charles" Canfield owns the Boardwalk, a national landmark) and here is that same name recorded for posterity 3300 miles away in Key West. I smile when I pass by, a private joke; me thinking of santa cruz and enjoying my fog-free life in Key West.
The city's cemetery is right in the middle of town, to avoid bodies washing up on the beaches as they used to after hurricanes, when they were planted on the south side of the island. In the 19th century the cemetery was on the edges of town and the rest of the island was dedicated to farming. And very beautiful the cemetery is too, especially because it's hard to dig into rock so people get above ground resting places and as the living will have it, they get fancy plots to "live" in:
Of course the dead are neatly segregated as was the way, Jews here, Catholics there, here Cubans, there others, and the rich get mausoleums but the poor, who we are told shall be first in the next life, get boxes. And alongside the cemetery another flowery street this one named for Angela (whoever she was) and a local using the favored form of locomotion. He looks a bit wobbly but public drunkeness is a state of mind, he was actually walking uncharacteristically fast, as though on a mission.
Vegetation is an important part of Key West living no doubt because it grows so abundantly in a frost free environment:
Porch living is important in that frost free environment for people too and Key Westers like to enjoy indoor-outdoor living in a town that encourages walking and cycling and chatting with one's neighbors:
Not the sort of behavior encouraged in Boca Raton or other malled cities of Florida. Some porches are deliberately more weird than others. Some residents like to commune with gumball machines, and please don't ask why. "Why?" is not a polite question in Key West.
It is enough that it is, and it, Key West, is flourishing between hurricanes that tend to strip the plants of their foliage and the city of its greenery. Between stormy summers plants grow and we forget the nudity of summers stripped in the hurricanes of 2004 and 2005:
And there are still a few houses built of Dade pine which was the insect resistant, weather resistant wood used to build and re-build Miami until the tree was virtually wiped out. Nowadays if you want to see Dade pine you have to travel to the Florida panhandle. Dade pine is prized because the wood is as maintenance-free as vinyl siding and the ugly weathered look is "Florida traditional" so you should enjoy it when you get a chance to see it.
There are eyebrows and porches everywhere in town, Dade pine and beautiful gardens and none of them are on display for tourists necessarily. I took these pictures in the space of half an hour around White and Grinnell Streets between Olivia and Southard, off the tourist track and far from monuments and attractions and its all quite pretty.
Even on the corner of Truman and White across from the Chevron gas station on the way in to Old Town on the main drag there is this utilitarian building housing businesses and a yoga studio, yet it shows style and physical charm and sports a widow's walk on the roof harking back to the city's nautical heritage even though one is as far from the water as one can be on this small island:
So there it is far from the mauls of America and all their instant convenience, far from the Southernmost Point which is illustrated everywhere on the web, and the Hemingway Home and Audubon and all the rest of it that is so popular and draws anxious camera toting crowds. This Florida is different and no matter how much locals whinge that Key West is changing, and so it is, and for the worse (of course), it is still itself and always a joy to walk round. This is not Florida as most people know it. But it works for me.
My wife's teaching assistant and office manager were salivating at the prospect of spending the afternoon at Jack Flats on Duval with their men while watching The Game, however for me an afternoon off means a meander through Old Town on my (wife's) Vespa taking pictures for future blogs ending up at the Old Pile seen above, St Paul's at the corner of Duval and Eaton, where the Philadelphia Brass Quintet was giving the first in this season's series of "Impromptu Concerts." 
On the steps of the church I met a couple of friends who invited me to sit with them and I did. The quintet did their bit in a concert I rated okay,interesting selection of pieces but the execution seemed uneven to me. As a former tuba player I love the instrument to death but it can too easily kill off the melody in a small, relatively small space.
The sun was setting as we streamed out of the church and key West always looks lovely in the light of the dying day, with a purplish tinge on the sky and warm gray tones down below as street lights come on and open doors throw squares of orange light onto the sidewalks. I took the long way out of town along the south coast startling an ambling convertible on my 50mph "moped." The ride home was delightful on the little Vespa.
Not least because it buzzes along merrily at 65mph and even allowed me to pass a dawdling kid in a souped up hatchback and I get silly pleasure from surprising people with my wife's little scooter.
My always thoughtful wife brought me home a copy of another book of Billy Collins' poems, and if you look at the title you'll know why this is a book you have to own. I've enjoyed only a very few 20th century poets, mostly writers out of the trenches of World War One, and I have mostly been drawn to romantic, rhyming, poetry-like poetry from the classical 19th century. Billy Collins has been a breakout for me, and my wife knows this.
So there it is, in black and white, an autographed copy of the book no less, which can join the other one in our loo. I have an autographed copy of a book by Billy Collins and I wasn't even there to get it! 
I found out this bizarre building was designed by a British architect for the world's fair in London in 1936 and was built in Hispaniola eventually as the centerpiece of the acknowledgement of Columbus' trek to the Bahamas. The faro (lighthouse) does actually illuminate at night but such is the electrical draw it tends to black out the rest of the city, so the illuminations are infrequent but I did sneak a photo of a postcard illustrating the effect, a Christian cross in the night sky, near enough:
Indeed the day we took a gua-gua (minibus) out to the monument it was gray and overcast and threatening rain. We need a light to show us the way.
The navy guard at Columbus's tomb stands at the apex of the church-like building with corridors running down each side of the open air central "nave."
The lower floors had open windows and the impending storm blew scads of cool air through the exhibits. 
The various rooms are devoted each to a different American country or colony. French Islands have their room as do the Dutch Antilles, alongside Venezuela, Cuba, Canada and everywhere else from Argentina to Italy ( Columbus was Italian of course). There was also a curious exhibit from Taiwan, Republic of China, asserting the very same thesis posited in the book 1421, that the Chinese passed this way long before Columbus. 
The US room had the obligatory letters of congratulation along with photos:
The US exhibit contained excerpts from the book "A Day In the Life" with an odd cross section of daily, multi-cultural activities around these United States. I don't suppose there was much else to write as Columbus never actually stepped on the US in his forced march to beat da Gama to the fabulous Indies.
Outside the Faro the weather was looking like crap so we bought some postcards from a vendor and made him happy, snapped a picture of an attempt at a cityscape under the glowering skies and scampered back to our five star hotel room far from the crumbling decay of tropical Santo Domingo.
The faro struck me as a grandiloquent gesture trying to embrace all the nations subsequently populated and exploited by Europe, and pointing them inward at the tiny country hosting this massive palace; but it seemed to be trying too hard. And whatever that English architect was thinking I can only imagine that he, like Samuel Coleridge, was high on heroin when he penciled his masterpiece. This is one unusual human monument I wouldn't want to miss, and now I can die knowing I haven't.
To be a homeless citizen in Key West offers opportunities for waterfront living, and though I would find it horribly dull to sit and stare with nothing to do all day our hcs revel in the void. They gather at Higgs Beach at the tables and talk and drink and fight and live out their little dramas like street performances that scare off families and cause people to...call the police.
They piss someone off, a parent perhaps taking their kids to play at Astro City playground across the street, and we respond and move the hcs to another location. Lovely Simonton Beach sounds like a nice spot. 
Which only looks like a park, an ideal spot to hang out and chill during a lunch break. Its actually these hotel charlie's living room:
The city of Key West and Monroe county provide free shelter in air conditioned tent-dormitories on Stock island conveniently located next to the Sheriff's office. There the working poor of the island can shower, use the lockers and the phone, collect mail, do laundry and show up for work each day as well groomed as a housed worker. The people who litter our streets and beaches aren't working poor, they are seasonal derelicts many of whom travel down in the winter and some of whom leave in the spring. There is no plan to deal with the problem except the rather draconian idea of removing park benches so people can't sleep on them. 
Like at Bayview Park, across the street from the police station. 
Welcome to Key West, and our signs are more suggestions than actual requirements, apparently.
Subtlety isn't a priority of homeless citizens, they like to hang it all out and give our parks a special flavor. 
Like a refugee camp.At night it is illegal to park on the streets and sleep so the campers park at Publix, a private parking lot, or at Albertsons, both in New Town and spend the night there before returning to White Street at Higgs Beach for some sea-side fun at the AIDS Memorial by White Street Pier.
The residentially challenged are here for the winter and they may not have houses but they have homes, all around the four mile long island:
at Higgs Beach,
at Rest Beach,
at Bayview Park.
But to step out of work a few minutes before six in the evening and still be riding out of the parking lot in daylight, why that's the first sign of summer around here. In Key West the seasons aren't entirely measured by ambient temperature. Its true we do get cold fronts and temperatures drop as the clouds cover the skies and the winds pick up.
But, the big deal really is the level of the humidity. Summer time is warm day and night and the moisture in the air is like a muslin cloth over one's face. In winter the cloth is whipped away and one's skin dries up and long work pants no longer seem a burden. In between fronts temperatures rise, the sun comes out and the coastal waters glow their usual shades of turquoise, all along Highway One.
For the anxious tourist crossing yet another highway bridge on the way down the yellow brick road to Key West, that green marker shows its just 28 more miles to the corner of Whitehead and Fleming Streets. And if they're lucky they arrive as the cold blows away and the sun comes out.
This is a cloudy gray threatening day along Highway One at Big Coppitt, around Mile Marker 11. Compare that to scenes of devastation and electric mittens in the dismal reports from elsewhere around the US. At least I know how well off I am, its hard to take this place for granted. And no, I still don't miss snow.
I know where I'm going to get my next vehicle. Carmax had us out the door in the Chrysler with a proper tag within an hour of deciding to buy. The price was fixed at $13,000 and due to her extensive research my wife knew that was a decent price for a 2004 with 36,000 miles on it so she was happy. The dealer lets you know ahead of time their fee is $149 so there are no hidden dealer prep fees and all that other rubbish plus they have an in house DMV office so the tag application was processed right there and they stuck it on the car for us. Plus we got our loan online in 5 minutes without having to haggle with a finance specialist and fill out reams of paperwork. At 7.45 percent they were 1.5 points lower than the interest for a new car at Potamkin across the street. The whole transaction was amazingly simple and above board. I had never heard of CarMax before. In my defense I hate buying and selling vehicles and they make it too easy. And they had a rather toothsome white Thunderbird on the lot at $21,000...
On the way home I enjoyed a private treat when a Moto Guzzi V11 Sport in the Coppa Italia red white and green livery worked its way through the traffic jam on the Dolphin Expressway. I got a surprise when he pulled alongside and I discovered a real motorcycle not just another boring crotch rocket. Naturally as I readied the camera he changed lanes and all I got was a quick shot in the Nissan's mirror. That set me to drooling almost as badly as my wife who was grinning madly while driving under the clear blue sky in her own car. The other rearview picture of the day was of my wife enjoying a sunny 75 degree Miami evening as she followed me home.
In fact she came home very happy after three hours cruising with the top down. I knew she'd missed her last convertible, a Camaro we'd had in California,
and it was past time for her to get another. And I wasn't wrong; there's a change.