Wednesday, December 19, 2012
Posted with Blogsy
Almost The Solstice
As little as I enjoy seasonal changes my emotions sometimes get the better of my intellect. By the time September rolls around I tend to be tired of summer heat and start looking forward to the second cold front of the Fall. The second front tends to lower temperatures quite a bit and create separation between the oppressive heat of summer and the start of the cool dry season.
Then when temperatures turn really cold, as they tend to briefly during winter I start to bitch about cold fronts and grumble when I have to wear socks to bed. I try to forgive myself for being human as I start to look forward to the heat and mugginess of summer. Well bugger, my Zen is in serious trouble. Better go to the beach and look out at the ocean and center myself or some such shit.
The thing is the water is too cold for swimming this time of year, at least for me, and it gets dark at six in the evening so there is some wintery effect down here. Traffic slows down a lot in winter as visitors pause to admire the views in the travel lanes of the Overseas Highway. Bastards! It's the only road and we all depend on being able to use it to keep the services flowing that they take for granted.
It's silly isn't it to get grumpy when all I have to do is pull over and enjoy the view.
So here it is, the shirt sleeve view. Happy Solstice Northerners. And I'll wish it to you early in case some nut case decides the Mayan thing is real and knocks off the Internet on The Day.
Tuesday, December 18, 2012
Walking, The Lost Art
I was walking Cheyenne on the bridge linking Cudjoe to Sugarloaf Keys, a place where my Labrador likes to go to find bait fish and other unconsidered trifles dropped by distracted anglers. A couple of nights ago I saw this old dude drowning worms all by himself on the bridge and I knew he was a snowbird because he was busy ignoring the only other human in sight. We trudged on by and found his Michigan tagged tank parked beyond the vehicle barricade thirty feet behind his now illegal vehicle, as snug up to the bridge as he could possibly drive on the ill defined FOOTpath.
Cheyenne and I kept walking, which I am now forced to admit is becoming a lost art, is the simple act of putting one foot (or paw) in front of the other. Even by motorists not displaying a handicapped tag.
Monroe County's Seat
Visitors to Key West like to take their picture at the Southernmost Point, a rather garish red yellow and black cone placed at the end of South Street, somewhere close to the southernmost piece of land outside the neighboring secretive Navy Base. Good enough for most people's photo albums. Then if they turn north on Whitehead Street they will eventually, after passing Hemingway's home, and the lighthouse and the Green Parrot Bar, they will eventually reach Mile Zero, the very end or beginning of US Highway One. Mile Zero is marked by a green rectangle on a lamp post for some reason placed at the corner of Whitehead and Flemng Streets, next to a collection of imposing brick buildings.
There is a connection between Mile Zero and the classically styled buildings set back from the street named for one of the four Anglo purchasers of Key West, John Whitehead (John Fleeming was another after whom Fleming Street is named). It turns out it is traditional to measure distances from the county courthouse and as Key West is the county seat of Monroe County so this is where Mile Marker Zero has to be placed.
It used to be that south Florida was pretty much uninhabitable that's to humidity, disease and. A general ack of amenity. There were no roads, no fields and no prospects for any, so as the soldiers pushed the Seminole Indians south there was very limited settlement activity in their wake. The city of Key West, founded in 1828 was doing fine as a stopping off place for shipping in and out of the Gulf of Mexico. Indeed Key West was a very cosmopolitan place with the outside world coming here as ships passed through from all over the world. As a result the wealthiest city in the state was made the seat of Monroe County, a stretch of largely uninhabitable land that covered the southern half of the state. A slow walk through the county building shows all sorts of stuff relating to the county and it's past. A map of 19th century south Florida.
As farmers ranchers and assorted white settlers moved into central Florida encouraged by railroads and suppression of the Seminoles they cut off chunks of Monroe County to create their own local governments, known today as Polk, Hendry, Lee and Collier counties among many others. Today Monroe County still encompasses a large chunk of mainland south Florida occupied by half a dozen Anglo families living along Loop Road, Seminoles still live in and around the Everglades and National Parks workers live in mainland Monroe County. Ask a tourism center and Monroe County equals The Keys but anonymity seems to suit those who choose to live in the "other" Monroe County residents. But Key West has always been the most colorful place in the county, and most likely in the state. I cannot say that electing Tony Tarracino as mayor was the most enlightened vote but in light of the state of modern political leadership in the county one can't really find too much fault with a man who figured a strong sex drive was the most important human trait. It's not the top political priority one usually imagines, but like I say Key West tended once to lean toward the particular and I miss that attitude. It's hard to imagine contemporary city voters taking a smuggler and gun runner seriously as candidate for mayor, and you could argue its their loss.
Mario Sanchez is remembered elsewhere on one of the walls of the county building. He was a Conch who amused himself making carvings of his life in Key West from the early 20th century. He was honored as a noted US folk artist outside his home town and original pieces cost tens of thousands of dollars now that he is dead. Below we see a copy of his representation of the county building at 500 Whitehead Street, pinned to the wall next to the ...electrical room?!
I miss the notion that public buildings should not only function as public spaces but they should be built as symbols of permanence. I like the wood and brick interior of the courthouse as much as I enjoy seeing te traditional classical design of the exterior.
And there is of course the crude requirement to provide for basic needs. Generators and radio communications climb apparently at random over each other behind the classical facades. The courthouse has been replaced by a rather more attractive building, supposed to cost $13 million dollars but ending up closer to eighteen. The. Some bright spark figured little Freeman Justice Center has no lobby to enable the public to shelter out of the weather while they wait to parade through the insecurity checks now required in public buildings. So the are spending another $600,000 to build a lobby. That I noticed the shortcoming immediately when I reported for jury duty just goes to show how impractical and short sighted are modern architects.
It's not easy operating a county a hundred and twelve miles long and rarely more than a mile wide, not forgetting the land on the mainland, and budgets are strangled by residents who demand services but are reluctant to pay for them. Thinking is not encouraged which is why peoplehotpgahnthe monument at the Southernmost Point and don't wonder why it is clearly apparent it is not the southernmost piece of land.
Tony Tarracino has been widely quoted as saying that ego and a tremendous sex drive are the tools for success. Brains he was fond of saying "...don't mean a shit." Cute of course, and mildly amusing but not a recipe for success as life gets more and more complicated in the town where Tarracino wanted to limit growth and who signally failed. The city of Key West is struggling to cope with issues of growth and change while Monroe County is so silent as to appear to be on a different planet. Less colorful perhaps, and also it seems less noisy, but whether or not the county represents the citizens as effectively as the city is not at all clear. The city has no permanent home at the moment as plans are argued over endlessly, with the Glynn Archer school leading the race so far for a new City Hall. The county has its brick headquarters sitting solidly on Whitehead Street largely unnoticed by all those people who wander by looking for Mile Marker Zero. Change comes slowly to the county.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Smoking Outback
There was a smell of smoke at Outback a few nights ago. Shit I thought to myself as we dispatched engines, what if Outback burns? People ask me where locals eat and and I say Miami Subs and Outback and the visitors get annoyed at me for being obtuse. The fact is working locals can't eat out in places geared to charge visitors the maximum tourist dollar. I don't mind high prices when I'm on vacation.
I like Outback for the same reason I like Miami Subs, value for money and efficient cheerful service. I like to eat out other places too of course but Colombian Grace and Santiago's are not cheap even though I think they offer excellent value for the money they charge. I know, I'm not supposed to like chains but Outback is my exception to that rule. I was really glad to see this was a false alarm.
A Fresh Start To The Week
A weekend off work means a chance to see the sunrise as the start of the day, not as the end of the work night. There have been some nice pinks and oranges in the cloudy skies and it was a pleasure to walk without feeling ready for bed.
Cheyenne really doesn't care much about the physical beauty. She was last seen ploughing into a bush in pursuit of some foul smelling morsel. Who, I ask myself throws food away like this?
As the sun came up we got into Bill Butler Park and the elongating effect of the camera makes it look like a gumbo limbo forest not an urban green space.
This is winter in Key West so for se reason bougainvillea blossoms like crazy. Far better this than a snowdrift.
Wandering the alleyway that connects the park to Elizabeth Street I nearly got run down by a keen scooterist using his modest machine as a pick up truck.
I met some discarded footwear in a recycling bin. I couldn't conceive what the story might be behind that mess. I didn't look too closely but the shoes appeared to be in good condition, debauchery indicated, perhaps and shoes got discarded along the way?
I've seen a few of these tricycles around town, a Chinese imitation of a Ruckus scooter by Honda, with an axle at the back. It seems cumbersome to me but I have never had trouble holding myself up, most of the time, on two wheels. It isn't nearly as compact as a two wheeled scooter to park either.
I wonder if in old age I will need to ride a hack (a sidecar combination) and if I do, will I be allowed to park it in scooter parking spaces? These sorts of abstruse questions worry me when I have time on my hands. And then I saw a heavily decorated bicycle in a style not similar too but certainly to be appreciated by those supporters of the late Captain Outrageous's mobile works of art. There was no website to be found, unless theold fashioned paper message attached to the machine counts as a 20th century website after a fashion.
And as my walk came full circle back to Simonton Street I found myself in front of the office of the Secretary General of the Conch Republic, a state of mind that has become a matter of business for the self styled leader of the blue flagged republic. The message at the front was mixed, a warning about surveillance near the sidewalk with a cheerful welcome sign on the door, take your pick.
It was just another pleasant walk through a town with things to see and much to notice if you have a mind to see it.
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