Simonton By Eaton

Buttonwoods on Simonton are coming into their own again. They provide shade on a hot summer afternoon as one ambles along Simonton to check out the secret garden.


One doesn't have to arrive in the garden to see a few bright frangipani or "frangy pansy" as a passing visitor described them. I rather prefer that name actually.


Oops, the secret garden is no more, the parrots and some plants have moved to Elizabeth Street.


There's a useful sign on the clean, closed gate.


Free School Lane is still lined with pretty homes but the garden is gone for sure.


Now that's a car port with style!


The walk was a bit long for my Cheyenne who needed nourishment along the way. And of course she found it, a slice of sunbaked pizza in just the right spot to refresh and reinvigorate my lusty Lab.


Had she brought her trousers and wallet Cheyenne could have bought an astonishing fanciful cake from the window display on Simonton.


Karol does a bang up job of building multiple storey confectionary.


Across the street some optimist is trying to offload the haunted theater to some uneducated punter.


The reason they say the bums never sleep in the protected doorway of the old pile is because the ghosts frighten them off.


I don't believe in ghosts but I do keep my eyes open. I liked this reflection:


Check this out, our northern cousins are trying to out patriot us. This despite the fact no one has ever had the heart to hate Canada.


We support our troops fighting the ice on Hudson's Bay. Good job chaps. Meanwhile here in the land of the free there is some mumbling about closing the Federal Courthouse on Simonton.


It was just recently renamed in honor of the late Judge Aronovitz, and I doubt anyone will actually force illegal Haitians, fish poachers or their lawyers to travel to Miami every time they want to have a Federal hearing.

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Changes On The Boulevard

Years ago it was Waldenbooks then it became Borders Express then it closed as the brave new world of electronic books swept the land.


Cement fore and aft, ladders, scaffolding and men in coveralls.


To the trained eye it has become apparent that change is in the air. I suspect some minor chain store selling pet supplies might be in the offing.


Further up the main shopping drag in New Town, change has come and gone. A bank is now established where Boater's World used to sell yacht stuff.


And this lot aren't going anywhere, there're gone:


I'm not sorry to see the end of Blockbuster, the chain that forgot what customer service meant, even as technology wiped out a few more service jobs. Meanwhile a supermarket is holding a "going out of business" sale, which strikes me as rather odd.


Going out of business sale of lettuce? Weird, but I'm told Albertsons is to become an all-organic Publix Greenwise store.


I find it hard to imagine there are that many organic shoppers in Key West in summer when the hipster snowbirds have fled the summer breezes for the humidity of Kansas, but I'm sure Publix knows best.


Shop till you drop meanwhile for cheap lettuce and beer.


While this lot rub their knuckles and prepare to expand their empire just a few feet further into the southern waters toward Cuba.


Any bets how long before Publix Havana opens up? Years ago Flagler dragged Cuban pineapples to winter residents of New York. Tomorrow who knows how far south the Publix Empire will stretch?


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Middle Fleming

The back garden to the library at 700 Fleming was own the last time I strolled by. It's been closed a while and now mysteriously it's open. Too bad I didn't have time to stop by.


The library bicycle rack is always full. It's the oldest public
library in Florida and sometimes I wonder if it is't the busiest.


Classic conch cottage and bougainvillea blooming.


Really blooming, it's thick around here. My own bush at home is doing quite nicely too, though on a much smaller scale.


I believe a local group called Just For Kids is responsible for the many decorated fire plugs. As bright as bougainvillea.


Right next to the classic Key West homes we find these apartments, classic stucco which I was more used to seeing in California.


I'm not much of a window shopper but you never know what shop keepers think will please the visitor's eye. Like a jar of seashells.


Anxious cyclists, with Mom telling the kid to do as she says not as she does. Helmet for the nipper, fashionable cap for Mom.


There they are dwarfed by the big brick building that marks Simonton and Fleming.


Bricks were expensive to bring to Key West but enough came as ship's ballast to allow for some construction that wasn't wood.


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Lower Keys Ephemera

A single lane street with a cyclist.


It is my misfortune to live on this street with a bunch of really strange people who insist on taking their right of way on foot and by bicycle. It's an odd craving, to be run off the road ad injured by some callous car driver.


I expect these numb nuts imagine that because they are retired white men they have some divine right not to be knocked into oblivion by their impatient, employed neighbors. Right of way has little to do with it as the injury will ultimately all fall on the cyclists. When I ride my motorcycle or bicycle down this street I pull off to allow four wheelers to pass me by in all safety. I value my skin and I know the damage a car will do to the human body.


These pricks don't have the wit to understand the danger they put themselves in, and some of my motoring neighbors drive with no regard at all for the speed limit.


I wonder what this mental deficient thought he was accomplishing by not pulling safely off the right of way and letting me by. Lucky for him I know what a wrecked body looks like and I didn't try to squeeze past his frail old bones.


These youngsters on Big Pine Key stepped smartly out of the way, in a manner that suggests they can teach their elders and betters a thing or two.


On another subject I have difficulty imagining a bingo hall that is smoke free. It seems like an oxymoron.


And then the chickens found in the rear of the Winn Dixie supermarket on Big Pine. these creatures are everywhere these days!


Not just limited to tourist venues in Old Town Key West...


I saw a rich red sunset through the shade in my bedroom, which when I used the flash washed out completely. Very amusing.


Without the flash the sunset washed out.


Oh well, all I can say is it really did look good even through the window!


It's quite the spectacle looking west across the salt ponds. A fuzzy brained cyclist could fall off his bicycle looking at nature's majesty. And that would be too bad.




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60,000 Mile Bonneville By Triumph

I bought this splendid machine in early October 2007 off the showroom floor at the late lamented Pure Triumph of Fort Lauderdale. It cost $8,000 out the door.


It is showing some signs of age after four and a half years of exposure to the Florida Keys' corrosive salt laden air.


The valve cover gasket and washers need to be replaced each time the valves are checked every 12,000 miles otherwise the gasket tends to seep oil. The engine doesn't lose enough oil that you'd notice but it does give it the irritating patina of an old style leaky Bonneville from the 1960s.


This leaky pot of oil spreads lubricant on the final drive chain and keeps said chain functioning for twice as long as the expected 20,000 miles. I love my Loobman chain oiler.


My Bonneville serves me perfectly in the Fabulous Florida Keys, starting every time I touch the button, running smoothly on regular gas, a gallon every 43 miles.


If I didn't have a dog and a wife to haul around from time to time I wouldn't drive a car.


Cars are known as cages to motorcyclists, because they surround the prisoners with metal and limit their connection to the outside world. A motorcycle carries a certain danger inherent to the ride and the orders like to feel like outsiders or rebels.


Aside from the imagery I like riding because every journey is a life affirming adventure.


The Bonneville is a pretty bike styled on it's forebears from the sixties when fifty horsepower qualified it as a super bike. Nowadays sixty horsepower qualifies it as barely adequate. That I have made mine ugly with useful luggage sets me in a category all my own. I ride my Bonneville, my girlie bike. I travel by Bonneville, on my beginner's bike.


I stuck an Emgo top case on the back, Pelican 1430 cases on the sides and called it my adventure bike. I ride to work on Highway One and love my commute as a result.


Here it is at home, my unnamed ride, my 15,000 mile per year companion. My flying carpet, my Iron Butt certificate winner.


My Bonneville is the bike made for me and after all these miles I still get a thrill every time I think about going for a ride.



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