Village Stroll

Shavers Lane, early morning and Cheyenne is ready to get her nose down.

This garish red building was once called Better Than Sex, a pudding shop that sold desserts labelled with nudge-and-wink sexual innuendos. It was successful here so they decided to move to the former Deli Restaurant at Truman and Simonton leaving this place to become a cheap breakfast joint. That didn't last and there are other plans now in the works I believe. We shall see.

Key West boasts Florida's oldest synagogue and the town's only Jewish restaurant seems to be doing quite nicely wedged in a quiet corner of Petronia. unlike Goldman's Deli this place makes no concessions to unclean goy food like bacon...fortunately my wife describes herself as a cultural Jew so I can raid the fridge at home if I get a bacon craving!

Floyd's Barber Shop has closed. Change is good, and that's what I keep telling myself. 

The crêpe place moved to Petronia from Duval Street after a fire took down the building next to the San Carlos ad they do land sale business here. You wouldn't know it from the picture but we were early, my Labrador and I, which explains the empty tables.

I am constantly surprised by the variations of colors and color combinations people use around Key West.

Check this out: another eatery hanging in there. Croissants De France is still operating on Duval and delivering pastries around town.

I am a big fan of air conditioning. I know it's much more suave to rely on nature's cooling but I do like my air. I've lived on a boat without air and I've dated women who thought air conditioning is the work of the devil but in my old age I like having a thermostat in my life. However using an elaborately shaded lamp to keep nature's air flowing is pretty suave.

It was cheap air developed after World War Two that opened mainland Florida to massive development which arguably was not a great thing. People lived just fine before air conditioning was developed but they knew no better! Hemingway pulled it off then went to Cuba when the road brought the outside world to Key West in 1938. His house is now a huge tourist attraction, ironically enough for a man who valued his privacy.

Old Key West is still there.

You just have to look.

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Death Trap

After 1800 performances on Broadway and stage settings all around the world plus movie versions, you'd think no one would line up anymore t see an old chestnut like Death Trap. You'd be wrong. My wife and I had a great evening out at the Waterfront Playhouse and we only had preview tickets. The show runs through May 18th and I was proud of my wife for organizing our outing ahead of closing night.

There are two theaters in Key West and we check them both out each winter. This year I have been surprised to see more dramas and fewer corny musical men in drag numbers which works for me. However I did manage to miss "The 39 Steps" which started out the Waterfront's season, and that has been a continuing source of regret for me. I'm told it was every bit as good and perhaps better than Death Trap.

Death Trap has an extremely convoluted yet simple plot, witty dialogue which tends to include self mockery, irony and a fabulous ability to not take oneself too seriously. Yet the production took itself very seriously. The scary bits were genuinely scary and the shocks shocked as much as the gags made all of us in the audience break out in laughter. I had fun despite the gruesomely uncomfortable seats which do however give a nice view of the stage. The intimacy of the theater was enhanced by the wild storm that lashed the production with lightning and rolling thunder every it as realistic as a summer storm in the Keys.

The production has got tons of press all positive of course and I'm glad. We won't get anymore live theater until summer runs its course and we have another season of snowbirds winter crowds and live theater next fall.

We got to see a few productions this year and I hope they keep up the emphasis on drama because these re plays worth lining up to see.

Who says Key West doesn't have seasons? Live theater season is worth waiting for.

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Sugarloaf Stroll

Hansen Trail off Crane Boulevard used to be a gravel road but it's been paved. I guess it's been a while since I made my way out to the back country of this part of Sugarloaf Key with Cheyenne.

It's a fair distance from my house, eight miles perhaps but it's on the way to Key West so even though I pass by here on the main road I rarely turn off at the traffic light to explore Crane Boulevard and it's offshoots.

In the early hours of the morning it's surprisingly quiet back here, before school is in session, before parents have lined up to drop their middle school offspring off at the collection of big gray buildings that mark this part of Sugarloaf Key. The school and traffic light are landmarks on the Overseas Highway, Mile Marker 19.

This is a serene lane, one of several that's far from the hustle of modest little Key West. Some Labradors like this place.

I have got used to the idea that even in the Keys a hobby as expansive as riding a horse can have it's place. There are sales here and on neighboring Cudjoe. It seems challenging to keep horses in happiness on these narrow strips of rock but objectively I don't see why not. I loved the sign "Horses Will Bite." They will if you are a carrot...Some people will do anything to instill fear in their neighbors. What a wonderful world!

I grew up around horses as my elder twin sisters were mad keen on them as youths and my father had the money to indulge them (my motorcycle mad mother got me my first Vespa...) so they were a part of my life as far back as I can remember. I also recall getting trodden on by one with a foot the size of a dinner plate with the strength of a steel press in it's hoof. As soon as Shannon realized what she had done she released my bruised foot from under her hoof. The pain however unintended by Shannon the horse, is imprinted in my memory. I never did get bitten, though I was careful when I gave them treats to hold my hand flat and to only let their lips rub my palm. Horses hate to be left alone so one will find smaller farm animals keeping them company, often goats, in this case a friendly pig. Cheyenne was not impressed.

Horses always seemed like a tremendous amount of work to me. I rode my motorcycle, parked it, turned off the gas tap and walked away. My sisters spent large parts of their lives worrying about their animals, pushing food in one end and scraping up shit at the other, day after endless day. And when they went fr a ride they covered as much ground in an afternoon as I could ride in thirty minutes. I had not yet been introduced to those bizarre psychoanalytical theories about horses, young girls and sex substitutes that cropped up later in life. My motorcycle, a fire engine red MV Agusta 350 with torn mufflers was an unabashed attempt at seeking sex I guess. It was much more successful as a reliable means of transport and in those days I rode across Europe on the rock hard seat with the tiny racing handlebars stretched over the long red fuel tank. Boy racer indeed.

Sugarloaf is a low lying island around here and in Hurricane Wilma in 2005 it flooded quite badly. We had friends living here who lost their ground floor areas to the ocean. People who parked their cars around the school on the higher ground saved their vehicles from inundation, while everyone else did not. It was a mess.

On a serene spring morning the mangroves look lovely and the lonely house like a castle.

It's rural Lower Keys living the way some people like it, not at all what visitors expect.

Surplus coconuts, perhaps?

Surplus household goods I suppose...

Formerly surplus dog.

Now mine and no longer surplus. She likes Sugarloaf Key.

 

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Friday Night In Key West

WARNING: This essay got away from me and devolved into a curmudgeon rant. Those of delicate sensibilities who have trouble with a dry sense of humor are advised to skip this page and check out one of the 3100 essays devoted to the Lower Keys available on this website. Normal photographic commentary will resume at midnight Eastern Time.

Cheers

Michael.

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Living as we do in a culture obsessed with youth a curmudgeon like myself might be forgiven for taking the contrarian line that experience- free fresh young things like these are of less than passing interest. But if you are debonair and charming and find the quality of your day is improved by the sight of children posing as adults, the boardwalk at Key West Bight is a good place to choose for dinner. Well it was in my case.

For a lot of people last week sitting inside was the preferred choice. My wife always asks where I'd like to sit, but in deference to her preference for sharing her food with any passing insect I loyally suggest outdoor seating is my preference too, as it happens. In this instance sitting outdoors at Alonzo's seemed like decidedly the better choice as indoors was crowded and very noisy.

And sitting outdoors means you can people watch, and watch people watching the tarpon swimming in circles waiting for breadcrumbs, while you wait for your own breadcrumbs to arrive.

Sean was dressed in the Alonzo's uniform of dark blue shirt and tan shorts similar in many respects to what I wear at my job though I wouldn't mind being allowed to sit In shorts all night. My wife likes Alonzo's and she is happy to send people who seek decent fish to eat here; that appetizers are half price during happy hour increases the appeal for my frugal wife.

We were celebrating her assignment for the next school year where she transferring to teach adults in the jail and is also setting up a new vocational type program (I think, her job descriptions are all a bit vague to me) for adult education across the Keys. It was her dream job and she was so excited to get the news from her boss. Only half priced shellfish would do, to celebrate her dream assignment.

Mussels, calamari (not pork bungs I trust!) oysters and fish fingers, oh my. That and a Yuengling set me steady for the second half of the program.

The idea was to catch the new Robert Redford vehicle The Company You Keep at the Tropic Cinema. It wasn't our first choice but the timing was right. I took this picture of the theater after the movie when darkness gives Key West's arts house a particular glow.

Every time I take a leak I regret not being swift enough to buy a plaque here. Mind you the mysterious Roger Westerlund gets around as you will find his name above your weenie in the theater as well. It took a bit of furtive lurking to get this picture as you might imagine.

The theater was quite empty when we sat down near the back. Then Eraserhead sat in front of my wife so we moved for a clear view of the screen, which worked until the credits came up and two last minus arrivals plunked themselves down right in front of us. Hmm, I started to wonder to myself, how soon will this movie be available on Netflix streaming?

The film is the story of a group of former Weathermen living modern lives out of sight of law enforcement, so when Susan Sarandon's character decides to give herself up the FBI, frustrated by thirty years on the run, moves in and arrests her using her surrender to nail the other killer members of the radical group. Parallel to this manufactured drama a cub reporter at the Albany, NY, newspaper is also hot on the trail of his first big story and in one of many yawning plot holes beats the FBI at their own game(!). The writing was awful the characters' motivations were mysterious and the outcome predictable. It was a group play period on screen for a bunch of elderly actor-friends to work together one more time. Definitely Netflix material, unless you are celebrating a promotion.

Had I been watching at home I would not have been obliged to listen to the couple nearby explaining the plot twists to each other in loud undertones. Sigh. At least no one answered a phone call which might have interrupted Eraserhead's loud guffaws as the predictable punch lines hovering view on screen.

The Tropic is a worthy institution but the downside is you have to share it with people who haven't been brought up properly. My advice is avoid big name movies, preferably choose flicks with subtitles which should keep most of the talkers and fidgetters at bay. And don't go in winter because the blue hairs love to explain the movie to each other like they are at home on the couch. I don't say anything, I know its too late to teach my neighbors any manners by the time they are old enough to buy their own movie tickets, and I'm just grateful I get to walk away and try to keep the movie in mind and not the distractions. God give me patience, but I love movies, sitting in the dark and getting absorbed into the story. I came to realize years ago the emotion and drama and fear and excitement I felt sitting in the dark was supposed to be what I felt at Mass on Sundays. That I never did, just increased my appreciation for the power of the movies. Which is why talkers annoy me. Imagine them doing that in your church services...

On the subject of daily annoyances check out this parking job designed to preserve paintwork. Newcomers love to attach the Conch flag to their cars, but it takes more than a sticker to learn to fit in on a small overcrowded, tight parking island where every space counts and bad parking drives neighbors crazy. Another reason to ride a motorcycle.

 

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Truman Sunrise

A late cold front brought much rain to the Lower Keys and the north wind that followed has kept summer at bay quite successfully. Early morning temperatures have been close to seventy degrees and walking Truman Waterfront before the sun came up almost have me goosebumps, in my inadequate t-shirt. Sounds silly? Blood thins in constant heat, and May usually marks the start not only of rainy season but also high humidity season. Yet here we are, hot by day, cool by night and dawn brings crisp perfect sunrises against a cloudless sky.

Plans to develop Truman Waterfront are moving forward and this pleasantly disheveled 34 acre open space yielded to the city by a shrinking Navy will soon become something pleasantly bourgeois and landscaped and filled with useful activities. It is our communal fate in a world filling with evermore people recreation must be regimented.

Enjoying unspoiled landscapes in an urban setting is no mean feat in a town as small as Key West, so I come here as often as I can to make pictures and memories of this useless open space that will itself soon only be a memory.

I have no doubt tennis courts and shade trees, parking and bike paths are all worthy things and an amphitheater could provide a spectacular setting for outdoor performances, yet I still wouldn't at all mind something less organized. I like the idea bruited by some less orthodox souls that the city create a park with fruit trees and perhaps space for a local market and so forth but I suppose needs must and paving is coming.

The Navy fond the land to be surplus to needs but decided at the last minute to close the basin to civilian boats thus scuppering plans to build a marina, a development the developers proposed would pay for the park in a rather dubious lease back program that had the city paying the developers to manage the marina. That's all gone now thanks to the Navy so perhaps development plans could be moved forward perhaps a skosh less grandiose. I have enjoyed lovely open air concerts inside Fort Zachary, and I shouldn't mind so doing agin.

The cool morning air gave crispness and clarity to the air and I thoroughly enjoyed trailing Cheyenne in her endless pursuit of who-knows-what across the waterfront.

And we were alone, the bliss of summer in Key West. A good time to walk and think and say nothing.

Mornings have been good for a while. After the warm dry winter I expected by way of compensation an early hot wet summer. It has rained but the heat and humidity usually slow Cheyenne down quite a bit. Thus we have been walking quite a lot among the homes and trees of the Lower Keys.

Looking east from Big Pine Key dawn looks similar to anyplace else I guess.

Cheyenne tends to walk with her nose down, mine is up usually.

And then after the sun comes up the colors come to life in the city:

Camping in the mountains of California I'd wake up and watch the sun scale a line of granite, the shadows retreating as the sun progressed over the valleys. Here in the flatlands the movement of the sun is measured by the retreat of shade across a street.

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