Night Shift

The laid back Key West lifestyle is a rare and precious commodity, reserved for those with special attributes. I'm not sure if that attribute is genetic, inasmuch as some people are laid back by nature, and I'm guessing there are a few of them in Kiev right now idly watching the Molotov cocktails fly. Perhaps wealth has something to do with it; life in Key West, adapting an English saying about life itself, is like a turd sandwich: the more bread you have, the less shit you eat. But that's always true isn't it? So here's the thing: how is it I get to have time off in the middle of a weekday to dirt at the beach and watch kayakers paddle by on their meager vacation time?

It's because I work at night of course! I appreciate my topsy turvy schedule more than ever since I spent the last Dix months working days. I used to sit in the dispatch center looking out at the sunshine, and then I only got to leave the building as the sun went down. It was almost like a game: could I get out into the fresh air before it got dark. I usually lost. Then I got back on night shift and my life fell back into the proper order of things. Dropping off the Vespa for a tune up became a simple matter of tiding in, taking the bus home and still I had time to work out at home before leaving for work! And Jiri, my trusted Czech mechanic, still had time to exchange a few pleasantries with me. We share a shy misplaced nostalgia for the good bits about our different yet similar European childhoods- and motorcycles.

I even like the ride in at night. I had a short overtime shift and riding the Bonneville through the night on the road propped between the shining moonlit waters is the best way to start and end a shift. And getting 43 miles to each gallon isn't so bad either.

There is something in my own genetic make up that allows me yo switch sleep patterns depending on my work schedule and when I sleep I pass out. If I ever suffer from insomnia there is a direct cause, a worry nagging at my mind. My wife who is a light sleeper is envious of my sleep habits. My dog is happy to have me back on nights. She did not like my day shift schedule one bit and she is at last getting used to me coming home at a civilized hour, around 6:40am.

We get to walk together on day shift, watching people coming to and going from work, people wobbling by on rental bicycles enjoying a slice of paradise under a winter sun.

The city is packed too, the highway a constant stream of Michigan, New Jersey, Ohio, Tennessee, Québec, and Ontario tags. I take an extra ten minutes in the evening to allow for a relaxed commute as the stream of visitors rolls slowly across the bridges over the teal sun speckled waters looking for paradise. And it's there all tight, every stereotypical button pushed. Palms? Check! Salt water? Check! Sailboat? Check!

I don't mind working my way through the night, I enjoy it, being awake when they are abed. My home is my refuge during the day, my neighbors at work, my dog snoring, the sun shining, stories of ice storms on the iPad filtered by people who talk of an endless winter.

The thing is I love it here even in the summer when the people around me complain of the heat. I ride through the night sweating, and sometimes I freeze when I arrive at work, the air conditioning cranking dementedly in an effort to keep the radio, telephone and computer equipment cool. It's crazy but the computers will overheat, banks of flashing green lights, fans whirring, unless we keep them cool. I love the heat, not sitting in a chair all night because if the air breaks we sit and sweat while the emergency units blows cold air on our blinking green lights in their little room. But I love stepping out in the morning and feeling the heat. I live it like so many people like the hard bar stools and gloomy lights and expensive drinks that are the allure for so many to Key West. Me? It's the heat and endless sun. Outside Don's Place a tricycle that will keep its rider upright no matter what. Ideal you'd think.

You can live and hold fine three jobs, live as one of the fifty percent without health insurance because buying insurance cuts into the beer allocation and besides when you're young you don't get sick. Do you? Deliver sandwiches by scooter, work as a beer back, janitor some store and crash on a couch. Key West is paradise, riding in the February sun.

I overheard two young girls talking about college. This place, one said to the other, would be beyond awesome if there was a school here. They pedaled off to explore paradise. I watched a buff pair of carefully plucked eyebrows saunter out of the gym on Truman, and his gaze caught the headline in the newspaper box:

Remains found in woods ID'd

BY ADAM LINHARDT Citizen Staff
alinhardt@keysnews.com

The skeletal remains found Sunday in a wooded area off College Road on Stock Island were identified Wednesday as those of 53-year-old William Brian Norton of Naples.

Monroe County Medical Examiner Dr. E. Hunt Scheuerman used dental records after sheriff's office detectives reached Norton's family, who then put him in contact with one of Norton's former dentists.

Yes, I said to myself as we set off for Boca Chica Beach to read the full story in my own paper, fully paid for, at the water's edge. That's exactly what night shift in paradise is: beyond awesome.

 

Key West on Dwellable

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Being A Local

This August voters in the city of a Key a west vote for mayor. I work in the city but I live in unincorporated Monroe County so I am a mere spectator at the feast of decision making. But the spectacle seems to be heating up at least in the pages of the newspaper. Riding the bus out of town I had time to read and wonder and there has been much to wonder about. For instance, why do people who wait for the bus like to scratch the plastic windows of the bus shelter? Do they expect to make pretty patterns or is it purely destructive intent?

The Mayor Craig Cates is the don of a well known force of nature in 20th century Key West. Emma Cates was a second generation Conch well known as a strong businesswoman who ran a health food outlet on Duval Street when such things were eccentricities. She was a woman, they say, of conviction. The Mayor has exhibited similar traits actually while in office. He was the promoter of a new city hall at Glynn Archer school a Palladian structure on White Street where work is soon to begin on demolition to make way for the new fifteen million dollar building. There were many competing proposals but Cates got his way and frankly I think it will work well when it's done.

Margaret Romero another Conch and a retired executive ran twice against Cates but this year the as yet undeclared candidate is Tony Yaniz a city commissioner who has told the paper he's thinking about a run against Cates. Yaniz has lived in Key West most of his life though he was born in Cuba. He is also it seems fond of the occasional platitude. From the city page: "He says that his philosophy in life is simple: "Be good to your friends and family, they are the best thing that you have. When you were born everyone around you smiled while you cried; live your life so that when you die those around you cry, as you leave with a smile. You need to keep yourself somewhere near the top of the list of the people that you love. Have fun, love hard, and remember that if you live your life right, guilt is not an issue. Keep in mind that a truly happy person knows how to walk the fine line between complacency and ambition."

However he has been pretty outspoken lately in ways that surprise me in this small town. Complacency seems a long way from ambition. The headline in the paper screamed that the city manager was accused of inappropriate touching. That's how unwanted sexual advances are described these days. Under the headline there squatted a truly peculiar story that in some manner hinted at a connection to Commissioner Yaniz. The story rather unravels in the details. It seems the new city manager attended his first Fantasy a Fest parade fifteen months ago and in the manner of the cheerful revelers bumped hips with his supposed friends who were attending with him. The husband took umbrage and the poor incomer fresh from sedateolitical pastures Up North by everyone's account apologized profusely. End of story until commissioner Yaniz writes his evaluation of the manager and alone commissioners gives him a failing grade. The newspaper story suggested the two were connected by comments appended to the evaluations comments. For someone aspiring to take the complex political reins of the mayor's job this whole episode seems rather amateurish.

Craig Cates isn't immune to mistakes. Following his successful steam roller ing of the new site for city hall he got back on his white horse and led the charge for a reformed approach yo dealing with the city' shameless population. A lawsuit threatened by the residents of an expensive condominium complex near, but not next to the homeless shelter, forced the city to literally fold its tents and run off to seek a fresh solution to house the homeless. The Florida Supreme Court has ruled that before jurisdictions round up public sleepers they must offer a secure place for them to sleep. The condo owners, not apparently threatened themselves with imminent penury got fed up with the city' swirling poor lining up to get free showers and beds for the night in front of the splendid gated community. Hence the suit. However Mayor Cates, understanding the various pressing issues suggested creating a center to not only house the homeless but also to help redirect them into mainstream life. Well, that idea was the mother of all lead balloons in a city plagued by a shortage of affordable housing. Every single influential voice rose up in a roar of disapproval threatening the usual electoral unseating of the idiot mayor. The overnight shelter has to close and no one else has a replacement to offer. When it does close the city will be obliged by law to allow public sleeping. What do the Mayor's critics think should be done?

I remember what Key West was like before the Keys Overnight Temporary Shelter opened and it was frankly a shambles. I have all the empathy in the world for the working poor; it seems like every year I get closer to being one myself. But Key West is always going to be a magnet for the seasonal travelers who descend in winter and plan a cheap existence on the streets. Yet there is no coherent round table discussion about how to deal with them. To me it is the classic American political Catch 22. If you discuss what to do about the homeless then taxpayers accuse you of planning to waste their money on looking after them. When you fail to house them as the Supreme Court requires they end up on the streets cluttering up the neighborhoods so the taxpayers stamp their feet like entitled children demanding to know why you have done nothing about them. Who would want to be Mayor?

Political discussion and compromise and sensible adult debate has fled the land, at every level from Washington to the city commissions around the nation. Posturing and impossible expectations leave us in the straits we are in. Unhappily the Conch Republic is not immune to this madness. Because I live in the county I do still get to vote for county Commissioner. In my district I am represented by George Neugent a Democrat turned Republican as county voters are in the majority of that persuasion. He has been in office long enough he has managed yo annoy everyone, including me, even though he is at heart a decent man I believe. His opponent has announced a second attempt to unseat the incumbent. Last time Danny Coll was an oddly endearing amateur, an empty suit, inarticulate and to all appearances running to make someone else happy. Heaven knows what kind of campaign he will run this time when his opening proposal is to view “...the upcoming campaign as an opportunity to meet my neighbors and a positive way to address their hopes and concerns.” He and Yaniz could cut costs and share the same platitude writer. Are not our issues serious enough to deserve serious consideration, even at the risk of upsetting the entitled among the voters? I always thought I'd rather remove my own tonsils with rusty pliers than vote republican but life south of reality sees me still holding on to my 56 year old tonsils even though I've voted for two Republicans so far- Richard Roth and George Neugent- and I'm sure there are more in my future in this crazy place.

One day the voters will have to grasp the nettle and understand that compromise is the art of politics. When that day returns we won't electrocute our leaders for talking to each other and suggesting ideas but we will cheer them on in sure and certain hope of a better future through negotiation not as we are stuck now in fear of a worse one, which is a self fulfilling prophecy if we don't learn to communicate like thoughtful adults.

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Painting By Numbers

It was a busy enough night at work, my nose was running, my chest was...chesty, the night seemed interminable, I felt feverish. The company was good, Nick and Shannon and I make a good team and we squeeze a few laughs out of the hours spent together answering 911 calls. The work does not often yield much merriment but between ourselves we find our own quirks a source of amusement. Going home is always a joy especially these days as sunrise tends to be right on time as I arrive home over the Niles Channel Bridge.

With a fierce head cold plaguing me I prefer to drive than ride, not so much to avoid the cold night air, which at 62 degrees may not seem cold to everyone, but because riding requires concentration, more so even than driving I drive when I feel less than my best. I should have stayed home but there were some administrative chores only I could do, so in I went, snuffling and coughing and spluttering.

Cheyenne was waiting when I got home at 6:30, and my state of health was no bar to her enjoyment of an early morning walk. Above, the view west from my street, below the full moon over Ramrod Key.

Me, I found myself sitting reading the paper, which, as much as I love it, seemed a sacrilegious thing to do.

Then of course as I looked around I wanted to record what I saw.

A log in the newly created fire ring was smoldering. People do like to come here and drink and talk, loudly, and in the summer to swim. You can see why.

Cheyenne loves this place which attracts lots of visiting dogs and who leave tons of scents.

 

I could watch Cheyenne all day. Some days I do.

My Android camera does amazing things with pixels.

It is a county park but I love that Ramrod Pool is undeveloped. It was a planned housing development that never came to fruition happily. We get a deep water undeveloped canal to swim in and gravel to park on and no one to bother us. As drunk as people get this is a peaceful low-key spot and I have never encountered anything but good cheer here. People don't seem to get angry in this place which is a quality I really enjoy.

I pulled out my beach chair and snoozed as the sun came up. My neighbor Linda bicycled by and laughed at me sprawled in my wooly sweatshirt baking gently under my dog's watchful gaze.

 

Key West on Dwellable

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Yes Scotland And One Human Family

So the question is: what do a passel of no account little lumps of subtropical rock and mangrove stalks have in common with the bleak peat bogs of frigid rainy Scotland? Not much on the face of it but there is the little matter of independence that is coming over the horizon. 31 years ago the Florida Keys asserted their right to independence and now, trailing along behind the Fabulous Florida Keys by a matter of decades, the residents of Scotland, be they English, Scottish or citizens of the European Union actually in Scotland get to vote next September on whether or not they want to secede from the overbearing English.

Every nation state has its own flag and Conch Claude Valdez came up with the design seen above. The Scottish flag, a banner associated with a nation but not with a state since 1707, is the cross of St Andrew shown below. But we are getting ahead of ourselves.

I figure the story of the creation of the Conch Republic is pretty well known but it has given rise to a mythology and an industry including passports and identity cards, bumper stickers and the notion that the Conch (pronounced konk please) Republic is a "state of mind" all in great good humor. But it wasn't always so, the good humor.

April 23rd 1982 the Prime Minister of the Conch Republic, promoted for the day from his day job of Mayor of Key West, having argued for the removal of a Border Patrol checkpoint at the Last Chance Saloon in Florida City, came out of court and spontaneously announced that if the United States, in an effort to stop illegal immigration, wanted to treat the Keys as a foreign nation with an ID check on Highway One, then so be it. And Dennis Wardlow announced the Free Florida Keys were seceding from the US.

The crowd gathered at Mallory Square to hear the announcement and the Prime Minister attacked the United States by breaking a loaf of Cuban bread over the head of a representative of the US Navy. The mouse that roared promptly surrendered and demanded a billion dollars in foreign aid from the US to compensate for the interruption to the tourist trade caused by the Overseas Highway roadblock. The money never came but notoriety did.

So now every Spring for a week there is a rather cheerful celebration of Conch Republic Days in Key West when drinks are drunk and they race transvestities down Duval Street and the whole thing wraps up with a sea battle between the Conch Republic Navy and the US Navy in which Cuban bread is still the ammunition of choice. The US always loses and everyone drinks their sorrows or their joys away.

Personally I have a different vision for an independent Conch Republic. I'd like to see a place like Andorra or Monaco in the Keys, a city state with no army and only enough navy to protect its fisheries, an economy based on all those items one sees banned in the US, so busy morality posturing, that could be had openly and cheerfully and guilt free in the shining new capital of unbridled capitalism that would be my Conch Republic. How much would you pay to sit on a beach in the Conch Republic smoking legal genuine Cuban cigars, drinking Cuban rum with a new and expensive friend then gambling in one of our world class casinos? Banking secrecy laws would be paramount, every law firm in the city would be the international low-tax headquarters of some corporation or another and every citizen of the Conch Republic would grow fat and content earning ridiculous tax free wages pandering to every American desire impermissible at home. "One (Stinking Rich) Human Family" indeed, my Conch Republic would have the motto of rectitude for citizens, lassitude for visitors, with health care, marriage, and the rule of law for all. I have a dream...of the gates to Paradise built as a frontier post in the middle of the Seven Mile Bridge. But let's be practical...

The US would never let it happen - and see Boca Chica Naval Air Station converted to civilian use, for a foreign country at that? Never! Besides I have a feeling a real Conch Republic would pretty soon descend into an extended impotent lament in the anonymous Citizen's Voice column in the newspaper followed by fratricidal urges and riots at Little League International games against the Americans from Marathon as parents take on the battles only hinted at by their sporting offspring. True independence would never work. Too bad as I could use a substantial raise, and though I do not smoke I have heard Havana Club is a decent rum. For Scotland though it's another matter, far more serious than stale Cuban ammunition bread and illegal rum toddys...

700 Years ago near the city of Stirling, Scottish soldiers handed an invading English army their lunch on a platter at the battle of Bannockburn in June 1314. This September the Scottish Parliament at Holyrood in Edinburgh has called a vote by all residents 16 years and older on the very simple question: Should Scotland be an independent country? Scotland's First Minister in the semi autonomous Scottish Parliament Alex Salmand (shown below just to prove that telegenic politicians are a US obsession) is leading the Yes Scotland campaign on a leftist plank of affordable housing and jobs though how Yes Scotland will follow through on those promises in these arduous economic times... A group of right wingers has come out with a libertarian position supporting independence called Wealthy Nation, so everyone is climbing aboard the change bandwagon it would seem at first sight in Scotland.

Deputy First Minister Nicola Sturgeon, shown above, whose name keeps up the fishy link in Scotland's march to freedom, is also promoting the Scottish National Party's "National Conversation" about independence. However as you might imagine not everyone is delighted about this separatist path. Lately the European Union has said it's not clear Scotland would gain admission to the EU, and suggestions that an independent Scotland might continue to use the English pound have been rejected by ministers in London. The message seems clear: if Scotland decides to set a bad example to independence minded Catalonia and Corsica they will get no help from the Big Boys in Europe. This sort of bullying seems to be having an effect, even as England plans to offer increased autonomy to the Scottish parliament if the people vote No. It's all carrot and stick...

My guess is that current polls showing a slight inclination toward No with a giant clump of undecideds will probably carry the day in September, and if that happens I think it would be a shame. England fought Ireland horribly when they wanted independence, and union was forced on Scotland with a brutality that would give modern sensibilities the vapors. Over the past decade the English who constitute about 53 million of the United Kingdom's 63 million people have given autonomy to Wales and Scotland in hopes of fending off this day. North Sea Oil, Scotland's great economic hope is drying up so England's delaying tactics worked on that front, and losing Scotland won't mean the huge cheap energy loss of even a decade ago. But Scotland's five million residents, like the Conch Republic's notional 40,000 in the Lower Keys, have a lot of scenery to sell. We smaller states end up selling ourselves to visitors with our history and pretty views.

There is in me a streak of silly escapism, a desire for change for the sake of change and the chance to see what happens when one leaps where angels fear to tread, which to some extent is what prompts people to move here. I have no idea what's best for Scotland, or the Lower Keys come to that. But I do have a mad desire to see what happens if the Scots do take that leap of faith. Who knows, perhaps they could lead the way to independence for Wales, Catalonia, Corsica and perhaps even these distant lumps of rock where endless debates about abortion and gay rights and evolution and guns all the rest of the mad mainland political posturing mean so little. One Human Family: is that a philosophy strong enough to build real human freedom upon, instead of using it as an excuse for bed races, fake battles and drunken public partying? Would the real Conch Republic, a place of tolerance and belief in the res publica as originally envisioned find space to live and breathe and prosper? Lead the way Scotland and perhaps Sassenachs everywhere can learn from your example.

Key West on Dwellable

 

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