Monday, February 10, 2014

MCSO Farm

A couple of Sundays each month the Monroe Coubty Sheriff's Office opens the Farm to the public and kids in particular get to meet animals they'd never otherwise see in these limited, agriculture-free islands. This isn't a farm in the agricultural sense, rather it's a refuge for abused and abandoned animals, exotics and not.

It's also a refuge for people who have gone off the rails, trusty prisoners get to work here beneath the Jail at the Sheriff's headquarters:

The range of animals is impressive, though not all of them come out to show themselves off on demand.

Llama...

...Wendell the Vietnamese pot bellied...

...pig.

Giant land tortoises inside...

...and out.

Silky soft rabbits...

...and mice.

The rats even look cute but their antics attempting yo escape their cage take on new meaning when...

...you learn they are kept as food for snakes in the Farm.

A Burmese Python looks sadly trapped but these snakes are let loose in the Everglades by stupid owners who have unleashed a killing machine without predators.

Better here than out there wrecking the Everglades ecology.

These Patagonian Cavies look like small wombats, when you can see them. My wife says they were dropped off by a family that had to move north to an inhospitable climate and they pay to keep them here in a luxury pad:

Some animals are standard issue North American breeds, kept in captivity, abused and rescued.

And there is people watching too.

A Lemur.

And there are birds too. Imagine seeing this lot if you are a kid raised in a fishing town with no fields or crops or farms.

Warning!

All located under the Jail building which like most new buildings in the Keys is built on stilts.

It is a good life for all concerned but there's work to be done.

 

Nikki was not the least bit friendly to me, poor bugger.

This poor horse was starved and blinded by some bastard near Homestead. The Dade Sheriff had no idea whatnot do with it when they raided the property and the former Monroe Sheriff Rick Roth offered the starving animal a home. And here she still is, doing fine thanks.

Jeanne Sellander's job is to look after the animals, train the prisoners to look after them and teach the public about animal husbandry and basic decency toward animals.

My last visit was in 2010 when there were done of the same and some different and the alligators were showing themselves: Key West Diary: Animal Farm

 

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Spry Cheyenne

I sat up in bed wakened from a deep sleep

and it was five o'clock in the morning.

Only one thing to do;

Go for a

Walk.

Medium-old city hall wrecked by hurricane Wilma.

Due to be demolished sometime soon.

Named for a long serving city clerk.

Lost, like the building to history.

The tricycle creaked past before I got my camera together.

Cheyenne loping alongside looked cute.

Well bugger.

This one came out better in the end.

Someone left the gate open behind the San Carlos.

Danger Will Robinson!

Though Will Robinson had other dangers on his mind.

I discovered these beauties cost eighteen dollars a day to rent.

I guess inflation creeps up as I thought they were half that.

 

Beginning of day.
End of walk.

 

Saturday, February 8, 2014

Kiki's Sandbar

I have missed the old Parrotdise Restaurant on Little Torch Key since it closed abruptly and under something of a cloud, a question of closing wages I believe. It was never any great shakes in terms of cuisine but it was reliable, the bar was always popular and to me it represented the best of simple earthy Keys cuisine without concessions to tourist images of the Keys. It had great views across the channel and I enjoyed sitting at the window looking at the water and taking out of town guests for the same.

The Landrover on the rocks is still there as is the motorcycle parking but the new owners have built a tiki hut arrangement over the entrance stairs expanding the seating options to the great outdoors. Which may be a great idea, but as we shall see the kitchen is having trouble keeping up with indoor seated diners... The bar is also still there and popular it seems:

The window tables are now raised of which seating position on a high stool I am not a fan. They were all occupied so we took perforce an inside row table which was fine. The service was good to start with cheerful but not intrusive severs and prompt delivery of drinks. I miss the old draft beer selection which included Guinness and Smithwicks but they do have draught and bottled craft beers along with wines. Oddly the beers are quite reasonable while the wines seem quite pricey.

The Citizen ran an article on the place last month and judging from that future seems promising: Location, location, location | KeysNews.com however we had an inordinate wait for our food. My wife and I split a cheese and chorizo fondue appetizer which arrived promptly enough and was as delicious as it sounded served in a crock pot to keep the contents hot and molten. Then we waited and waited and of our main courses there was no sign. We had plenty to talk about with Robert and Dolly so the time passed but I was well into my second beer before the good showed up. I had a Funky Buddha Brewery Floridian white beer first, which was perfect but they ran out and I got the last one. It was a bit of a struggle to find a non hoppy and thus bitter alternative but I expect the Floridian will be back in full keg next time.

When it arrived our shared main course was about as perfectly cooked a piece of meat as I've had. I usually order medium well as I don't like bloody wobbly meat on my plate, and I live with the consequences. This steak cooked outside and pink inside full of flavor, and the sweet potato purée was a great accompaniment.

Robert's sandwich kept him quiet and he shared some fries with my wife who liked them as much as he did. Dolly as I recall had a salad with shrimp. Aside from the wait the kitchen was brilliant.

Like I said the service was just right and our server stepped in and offered free pudding and saved the evening. We had two brownies, excellent of course...

...and I had a surprisingly good berry tart. Even my wife remarked on it and she likes chocolate flavored desserts. They also offer Key Lime Pie of course, but I was reluctant. Parrotdise had the best, tartest, most perfect Key Lime Pie in the Lower Keys, made I was told by a local resident, and I was not ready to try anything less at this particular location. Now I'm thinking they may have that under control too!

I'm glad this place is here, Parrotdise may not be back but I'm encouraged to think this may be better. When I get used to those damned high chairs...

Key West Diary: Parrotdise, a bit of history.

 

Friday, February 7, 2014

Who Loves Canadians?

I found this rather cheerful list of Canadian attributes listed by a sailor in the Caribbean, http://www.thebluepearl.ca/  and I realize once again that instead of ignoring our neighbours to the North we could learn from them. Solid banking, boring politics, good schools, vaccinations and universal health care...they seem to have enough money left over from their socialist communal good sense to travel too:





Sailing down here in the Caribbean we are proud to be Canadians... and we check our flag all the time for wear. Replace it when it gets worn. We check in on other Canadian boats in case they know someone we know. We want folks to know we are Canadian for all the good reasons....
We are polite
We are solid
We say "eh" way to much, eh?
We avoid conflict
Our banks rocked during the recent financial meltdown
Our beer is awesome
We like cheese
We are politically boring
We love the fact that we have universal health care... and that an emergency heart operation happens and doesn't cost a house - although sometimes we wish our knee and hip replacements didn't take so long
For the most part, we aren't alarmists... we get vaccinated, generally like our school system and don't build bomb shelters - except the exceptional Diefenbunker.
We are awesome at hockey

It's good to be Canadian.

So... it sucks when the park ranger in some remote bit in the Tobago Cays in St. Vincent and the Grenadines wants to know what we think of the Mayor of Toronto. We aren't used to apologizing for Canadian behaviour.

Not Walking With Doug

I was standing at Mallory Square, our starting point, a couple of hours after I took this picture and there was Doug and his dogs, he of This Week on the Island fame and we stopped and talked for a minute. Doug likes the Key West weather and he likes to make a funny about our good fortune, so yesterday he remarked that at least you don't have to shovel sunshine...

We reminisced about the first time we visited Key West, he in 1971 and I in 1981, and oddly enough we both got the same impression of this town. Doug laughed at the memory of the "dump" he brought his new wife to visit on their honeymoon. It was the end of the road he said as the shrimping fleet had gone bust, an early victim of cheap foreign competition, and the Navy was pulling out. Duval Street was mostly boarded up waiting for today's land moguls to step in and buy up the crumbling street in an effort to revitalize the dying town. They did just that and are today's one percenters. Happily for all of us their gamble paid off.

I was walking past Ann Street chasing after my dog who was in pursuit of something irresistible. I looked to my right and I thought I saw a shadow move away from the darkness, sloping shoulders under a fedora shape. Was it Sam Spade..? No, that can't be, Spade just ages me. Dashiell Hammett isn't fashionable, I'm pretty sure. I'm not even sure Bogart has survived the passage of time. Sometimes when life seems so uncertain you just feel like saying it out loud: "Oh, F...!"

And then there it is all colorful and illuminated and everything just for you. A big red sign telling the world how you feel about it. Then there's Cheyenne. She doesn't care how uncool I am, she's too busy finding the last pizza crust abandoned in the last flower bed left in the Southernmost City. You have no idea what it takes to rein in a hundred and seven pound Labrador intent on food.

Doug came to Key West to live when he retired and he was ready for the change. We stood there in Mallory Square watching the pigeons watch us, wondering how it was we backed into this life. His new dog Tyler was the latest find in a long line of Husky rescues Doug has performed. Young Tyler was tugging at the leash, Cheyenne for some reason was watching me with other dogs and showing neither impatience nor jealousy. Hmm, is she cheating on me?

I think she spent a lot of time in a cage, Doug said. I said Cheyenne had the same impatience to see and smell everything when I first got her. Come to think she hasn't changed much. You love that dog Doug said smiling at me like he is immune to the same syndrome. We're suckers and that's that.

The thing is Key West is a town that just pops up in your face and says 'what do you think of that?' A construction site has beauty. Or it would if my dog slowed down enough to contemplate it.

Keep Out. I'm really glad that sign was put there on the junque truck next to Turtle Kraals because I was almost overcome by a mad passionate desire to climb in among the rusty crap in the back of the rust bucket truck. Phew! That was lucky.

Psst! Wanna buy a luxury home? Here's one for you...well soon. Ocean Breeze they call it, which seems suitable considering the skimpy walls so far, but in point of fact...

...any chance there was of a breeze around here was killed pretty effectively by the parking garage across the street. The view every luxury homeowner demands. Key West expects a lot of its millionaires - what do they want from their mansions - actual views?

I was struck by this sign which advises the world that being deprived of draught Smithwicks after two in the morning might be cause for stress. I think I live a deprived life, as I have never felt the lack of beer at that hour of the morning. Mind you they are sorry they might be inconveniencing me which makes me feel good. Bloody right they are inconveniencing me. I might just start needing Irish beer after two in the morning.

Well, Cheyenne and I ended up on White Street before we ambled back to Mallory Square. It was a good walk. And then we had Doug to talk to before we went home.

Later I sat under a palm tree and looked at the view. Then I went home again, this time to dinner. No need for a sweater all day as Doug might say with his infectious grin.

 

Thursday, February 6, 2014

It's Just Business

I came across this article discussing the possibility of a deep fracture in the South Florida Cuban community that may see practical business interests overcome outmoded sentimental political interests to end the Cuban Embargo. The monied interests if mid western agricultural export imperatives have failed do far to open new markets in Cuba, but perhaps this drive by a Cuban sugar mogul may be the force that ends the embargo. Recently a group of wealthy Key West types took the first charter flight across the straits of Florida in a private plane. Perhaps if the one percent start to feel the embargo is irksome it may be blown away at last by the magic power of wealth and influence. By whatever means..!

The Scramble for Cuba

by ALAN FARAGO, cross posted from CounterPunch

 

 

Consider it done: in the United States, the figurative hurricane barriers against access to Cuba are opening. Given they have been clamped shut for half a century, there is a lag time between turning the screws and actuating the gates. Put it this way: the lubrication is done.On Monday, the conservative Capitol Hill Cubans blog hoisted a warning as the Washington Post published, “Sugar Tycoon Eyes Sweet-Deal With Castro”. Pay attention wherever Big Sugar surfaces. Cafecito is not the currency of the realm in Florida: sugar is. And not just Florida. Half of American health care costs are tied to the ill effects of sucrose in its various forms.In June 2012 the blog, EYE ON MIAMI noted the first visit of Alfie Fanjul in Havana. Alfie is one half of the Florida Crystals family, the billion dollar brand that dominates anything related to land use, water management, agricultural subsidies and pollution control in the Florida legislature, Congress, and the White House.


It was more than a curiosity to learn that by 2012 wealthy Cuban Americans had publicly crossed the Florida Straits, risking the antagonism of the right wing message machine in Miami.That message machine — embodied by vitriolic anti-Castro, Spanish language AM radio – routinely enforced political orthodoxy in Florida’s most politically influential county, Miami-Dade. Instructions came from the top down, and at the top: money from Big Sugar. The booming shrink wrapped luggage and long lines of passengers en route from Miami to Havana defied the stigma of the embargo. In other words, a brisk business between Miami Cubans and families on the island had already started beneath the AM language rants. Notwithstanding old hard liners banging war drums, by 2012 the gold rush was gearing up and by the presence of at least one Fanjul brother — Alfie — in Havana, political cards were being played.Political observers who dismiss the importance of recent Fanjul statements to the Washington Post are missing the point. The Post offers Alfie Fanjul’s version of himself: teary-eyed, standing before the family mansion in Havana. Maybe there was a tear or two.

Capitol Hill Cubans allude to the fact that the Fanjuls’ wealth grew from the largesse of American taxpayers and through the sheer political skill involved in maintaining the subsidies that have earned hundreds of millions of dollars. Moreover, I would add, a billionaire fortune built on immigrant farm labor, pollution, and turning the Everglades, the Florida legislature, and Congress into their own VIP rooms. That’s not, however, the direction Capitol Hill Cubans want to explore.“Monopolists understand each other”, they write. More to the point, conservative Cuban leaders tolerated the Fanjul monopolists extraordinarily well so long as the action was shared. One of the first business lines of Jorge Mas Canosa, founder of the right wing Cuban American National Foundation, was to broker farm equipment to the sugar barons.The current leader of the foundation, Pepe Hernandez, told the Washington Post, “Having known Alfie for 40 years, I think we can trust him to do the right thing.”


Now, the Capitol Hill Cubans spy the fault line breaking at the possible campaign of Hillary Clinton, where the Democrat side of the Fanjul clan, Alfie’s, resides. But that’s not it at all.The issue prying the remaining hard liners in Miami from the Fanjuls is that the Fanjuls will not wait while billions in business opportunities are being hammered out between the Cuban government and wealthy South Americans and European competitors. It’s not ideology that kept the Fanjuls from Cuba, it’s the fear of losing money now that there is money to be made.Leaving the issue of the Castro regime to the side, the question is not when will the regime come to a close, but …when will the money spigot open?It is open, now. The sign is not yet above the model unit, beckoning buyers, but insiders have already done their walk-thrus before the public is admitted.


For an aging and dying generation of Cuban Americans, the enduring hope was for retribution and a swift execution of justice in Havana. Miami Cuban Americans would lead the charge. Instead of forcing change in Havana, anti-Castro hatreds primarily succeeded in mobilizing voting blocks in South Florida, ensuring a conservative GOP majority in the state legislature and a Congress that marched to the same syncopated downbeat as the upbeat in Havana. Meanwhile, a lot of money was made by Miami Cuban Americans controlling the levers of politics, of growth and development of suburbs and condo canyons, of privatization of government services and charter schools, while the Castros held on in Havana.


Today, the Castro brothers are fading faster than the conservative Cuban American lock on Miami politics. The Fanjuls, on the other hand, with their “30,000 foot view” do understand that history is moving.So what the Fanjuls do, matters. The Washington Post story is like the wisp of smoke emerging from the Vatican chimney when the cardinals have made their decision on the next Pope.Put another way: there is money and then there is real money. The very rich, like the sugar barons, are — as F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote in another context — “not like you and me.” The Fanjuls have excelled at manipulating governments in service of sugar profits in the United States. In the Everglades, they deploy the best black hats that money to delay Everglades restoration while tens of billions of taxpayer dollars are spent in work-arounds of lands in sugar production that need to be returned to fix the Everglades.


There are always ways to make money from economic barriers. But when those hurdles are defeating profits — the way opposition to Castro in Miami is, today — the hurdles have to fall. It’s just business.Here is what Capitol Hill Cubans will not write. For so many of the Miami Cuban American elite, the signal of the Fanjuls turning to Cuba is a shift as great as the state department declaring the cessation of hostilities and the return of the embassy to Havana.What the Capitol Hill Cubans can’t ask and can’t answer, how big is the piece of the pie going to be for Miami Cuban American businessmen? That’s always been the question they wanted to know. (I learned this in the 1990s, leading the battle against the conversion of a military base in South Florida bordering two national parks into a privatized commercial airport for the benefit of powerful Cuban American businessmen. They said it was for a “reliever airport” to Miami International. No, it was for a private and exclusive cargo airport to control the resupply of Cuba once the regime changed.)


For decades, Miami Cubans claimed to want the whole of Cuba, for “freedom and democracy”, knowing that they probably have to settle for less. But how much less? As the years ground on, with Mas Canosa gone and Fidel enfeebled, business interests from other parts of the world have gained traction. The port work, the infrastructure, the city center: the shovels are turning in Havana.The Miami vise-grip of Cuban Americans on the “embargo” against Cuba is the theoretical analog of the decrepit, old fleet of 1955 Chevy sedans, held together with the same tenacity in Cuba. That fleet is being replaced on the streets of Havana with Toyotas, KIA, and Fiat, the same way as they have in Rangoon. Or Yangon. Whatever.The Washington Post story and the instant reaction from the Capitol Hill Cubans couldn’t be more clear. The Fanjuls want their piece of the action. The game in Havana is on. Let the scrambling of lesser mortals, begin.

Alan Farago is president of Friends of the Everglades and can be reached at afarago@bellsouth.net