Higgs is name inextricably intertwined with the city of Key West. There is of course Higgs beach and Ervin Higgs is running for re-election as Monroe County Property Appraiser, and in my essay on the cemetery I included a picture of this long established family' plot. And last, but certainly not least there is a delightful city right of way bearing the family name:
Higgs Lane is on Elizabeth Street between Eaton and Caroline, and should not be confused with nearby Donkey Milk Lane:
At least I'm pretty sure this is Donkey Milk Lane because there was no sign to that effect though I'm guessing there aren't many drunk tourists who could resist the urge to decorate their homes with such a sign. I have drunk horse milk and found it unpleasantly sweet; on the subject of donkey's milk I have no opinion. Back to the subject in hand, Higgs Lane is a classic dead end in the key West style, all white wood and abundant greenery:
And peeking through the trees one can see the backside of the immortal Federal Building on Simonton Street, huge and lumpen dominating everything. I guess it must be a quiet neighbor at least:
Higgs Lane gives neighbors the opportunity for peaceful sunlit reflection if they are lucky enough have an upstairs deck:
Others have a rather more, how can I say?- eclectic taste in home decor:
While others who have the bad luck to have to go Up North for the summer have to button up their homes in case of hurricane while they are gone:
Back out on Elizabeth Street I spotted the Christian Science Reading room which would have done nicely for a little variety on my recent essay on churches. Anyway here it is
In my younger days I found these reading rooms to be pleasant places to check out the Christian Science Monitor, a fine newspaper (whose radio service I used to report for occasionally many years ago even though I am not a Christian Scientist nor would I ever be- I love my doctor!- in the interests of proper disclosure). It's worth reading from time to time for a different perspective. Actually the Reading Room looks typically funky Keys from the outside. And as Istood on the sidewalk contemplating my pictures from Higgs Lane a French couple swung by and there he was, at it again on the phone:
Is this how modern couples share a pleasant walk together? I prefer the company of my Canon to that of my Nokia.
And peeking through the trees one can see the backside of the immortal Federal Building on Simonton Street, huge and lumpen dominating everything. I guess it must be a quiet neighbor at least:Higgs Lane gives neighbors the opportunity for peaceful sunlit reflection if they are lucky enough have an upstairs deck:Others have a rather more, how can I say?- eclectic taste in home decor:While others who have the bad luck to have to go Up North for the summer have to button up their homes in case of hurricane while they are gone:Back out on Elizabeth Street I spotted the Christian Science Reading room which would have done nicely for a little variety on my recent essay on churches. Anyway here it isIn my younger days I found these reading rooms to be pleasant places to check out the Christian Science Monitor, a fine newspaper (whose radio service I used to report for occasionally many years ago even though I am not a Christian Scientist nor would I ever be- I love my doctor!- in the interests of proper disclosure). It's worth reading from time to time for a different perspective. Actually the Reading Room looks typically funky Keys from the outside. And as Istood on the sidewalk contemplating my pictures from Higgs Lane a French couple swung by and there he was, at it again on the phone:Is this how modern couples share a pleasant walk together? I prefer the company of my Canon to that of my Nokia.
What the handle came off I can't imagine, perhaps a shovel designed for an eight foot tall gardener. And meeting this dude every day outside my front door would get old in a hurry for me:
On the other hand this haven is entirely irresistible. It came as a surprise not find anyone actually enjoying it:
On the subject of the irresistibly bizarre I thought this was a piece of Adams Family style advertising. "Seats? We don't need no stinkin' seats!" Conch cruiser par excellence.
United Street is a main road leading out of the south end of Duval towards White Street. Its wide and straight and devoid of stop signs so vehicles tend to just whizz along it and I doubt they take the time to check out some of the stuff that lines the street. I was on foot in the baking sun so I had all the time in the world to check out these delightful old Florida storm shutters:
And there is the youth hostel as well, which I had heard was to be demolished. Perhaps the imploding economy saved the Seashell Motel:
I doubt rooms are still $18 a night but I'll bet its still an excellent deal. This place pulses with young people, hormones and bicycles in winter. I have heard that the imploding economy may have done no good for the Spottswood's grandiose plans for the Beachside Hotel (nee Holiday Inn). Rumor has it they can't afford it and Marriott is taking it over. And bang go their plans for a huge indoor convention center across the street from Beachside. I'm sure it's just a temporary setback, so opponents of development might want to keep their breaths bated.
Up the street there was a burst of greenery and someone knows how to keep a pristine yard, I was green with envy:
Trimmed clipped and neat and a flourishing coconut palm glorious in the sunlight, I mean its not like I don't get to see enough of these trees but this was quite a nice example of the breed:
Somebody spends altogether too much time trimming off the dead and half dead fronds off this one. Mine should be so lucky. Oh and this is apparently dentist's row because another tooth fondler has set up shop in the neighborhood. Brick buildings are relatively rare in Key West and when I see one, especially with wrought iron accents they put me in mind of classic Southern architecture.
Fair enough this is no court house or other substantial structure but the bricks, the iron and the shutters give it a certain ambiance in a town filled with wooden houses. This one below is more like it, a hot tin roof with a ridiculous cat walk on the top. One could hardly call this a widow's walk could one? No access, no view of the ocean if you could scale it. No captain's wife anxiously scanning the horizon for the return of the husband's ship.
Other homes in the area have their own, lesser embellishments:
Poetic license allows for the dreaded satellite receivers- two of them!- as embellishments. And let's not forget the charming order to stay out!
I don't know why people disfigure their homes with these signs. Its pretty obvious its a home and if somebody is intent on trespassing a five-and-dime sign isn't going to change their mind. Its just ugly in my view. 
I saw a parking instruction I had trouble understanding based on the fact that the parking area was gravel and had nothing painted on the ground:
I guess one gets to figure out one's own angles. As if we don't all the time anyway when we drive our lumbering cars. And not far away a rather more refined take on the same issue:
The Jeep had the angle thing all worked out without instructions, and wasn't poking into the street at all. The homeowners' association on the other hand took the time to threaten mayhem and towing in no uncertain terms. 
Ooosterhoudt got all upset when the Feds decided they needed anti- terrorism protection for the magnificent US Customs House that takes up a great deal of the city block.
They got the idea that a bunch of gruesome orange plastic barricades would keep dangerous vehicles from mounting the front steps of the building and causing unmentionable damage to the building. Oosterhoudt wanted none of them. He pointed out that they floated away in periods of street flooding and they looked utterly grotesque and ugly. He asked the Feds to find a better solution. They came up with what I think are the rather attractive flower planters. And everyone is happy. Of course I have to find the fly in the ointment and its nothing more than that, its a small thing because the outcome was good. During the kerfuffle I forgot that Oosterhoudt lives in the massive pile across the street from the Federal Building:
Casa Antigua houses the charmingly named "Pelican Poop" gifte shoppe and also manages somehow to claim a slice of the city's favorite literary son. Everyone wants a piece of Hemingway, and it seems his first rented apartment was in a building almost as massive as the federal Building across the street:
Until I came trudging up Rose Lane under the hot August sun it hadn't occurred to me that the former city commissioner lives right where the orange blocks would have struck him straight in the eye, had he been looking out the front windows of his palazzo. I'm happy that small piece of orange urban blight is gone but it does kind of irk me that it was because it irked him that he was moved to get all fussy about it. Silly of me I know, but I still expect more from our leaders, like perhaps taking care of issues that aren't just on their own doorstep. I have no idea what the security guard at the Federal Building expects of his leaders but I was unwilling to intrude on his moment of introspection:
What it brought to mind was an image I carry around in my head of a much younger me, when I was footloose and fancy free on my first trip around the world. It was October 1981 and I was enjoying a cold fall day in the Siberian city of Irkutsk, if that's possible. It was a stop I made on my week long train trip across the USSR from Khabarovsk to Moscow. I was 23 and keen to see things on my walkabout so I found these old wooden houses which apparently were scheduled for demolition to make way for more efficient apartment blocks. I can't remember who I got to take the picture for me, I think it was a British diplomat somewhat surprised to find a young westerner wandering alone in the steppes...
Fed up with the palm tree banging his roof the home owner nailed a boat fender (or bumper if you prefer) to the roof. Seems to work a treat, on two palm trees, one on either end of the house.
The past couple of years I have favored the drama offerings at the Waterfront Playhouse as the Red Barn has been weighted rather heavily on the campy musical type of theater that I am less fond of. Nevertheless I was in the neighborhood, so I strolled up the lane next to the Key West Women's Club:
Is this a great private nook to hang out in, or what? It would be if they weren't busy doing construction, so I had to turn around and tramp back out. Hard Rock Cafe was doing odd things with their chairs so naturally I clicked the Canon's shutter:
Duval Street looks hot and white down at the end of the alley doesn't it? Roll on Winter!
My wife recently turned down her chance to get a blue and silver convertible Smart car. She decided we should keep her new-to-her Sebring convertible and wait for a better choice of small, more fuel efficient cars to come to the US market in a few years. I was surprised by her decision because she seemed to have really fallen in love with the little two seater. 
I doubt somehow he would have the same effect driving a smartfortwo instead of his BMW.
Others in Key West use scooters to get around town and parking really is a breeze:
Others rent and wear the sort of clothing that would get loud tut-tuts on Modern Vespa and other motorcycling fora:
Away from the hustle and bustle of commerce downtown. Of which there is plenty:
Then he asked me something about my work and he wanted me to confirm a rumor. he asked if its true that we get lots more calls on the night of the full moon, and i had to confess that in my experience it is a lot busier for the emergency services when there is a full moon. I pointed out I don't believe in such superstitions, but it does seem, in my experience, that we are busier at that time. Hmm, he pondered, that's odd, because the moon is just the same, only more of it is visible. He has his feet on the ground does Curt, but we had to part ways with the conundrum unsolved.
And humble Navy Officer housing converted to million dollar waterfront condos:
Thanks in large part to the spark ignited by the old man of Woman Key.
