Friday, March 6, 2015

Key West Architecture

We wrap up this busy week with a bunch of random pictures I took of Key West buildings. There is no theme or hidden meaning here. It's just a way to imagine yourself stepping out shortly after dawn (clocks move forward by an hour Sunday, by the way) onto a Key West street and glance back at your home, your palms, your white picket fence. Like this classic eyebrow home with an overhanging roof:

 

 

 

 

The Eden House hotel on Fleming Street, featured in the Goldie Hawn movie Criss Cross:

And this Mediterranean-looking entrance to one of my favorite restaurants, Azur, which is behind the Eden House:

 

 

 

Enjoy your weekend. My weekend will be spent huddling and writing for podcasts. For tomorrow I've put together an essay of a local ride on my old Vespa while Sunday I have reproduced an essay by a musician called Neil Peart of a band called Rush who loves commuting by motorcycle and makes every trip an adventure. It's a great read lovingly illustrated with pictures not of the Keys but beautiful nonetheless. I may have to learn to listen to his music, because his writing is inspirational. I hope he inspires you to find a way to enjoy your commute as he and I manage to!

 

Thursday, March 5, 2015

Cheyenne At Large

Look at her, caught thinking deep thoughts no doubt, like when's my next walk, or I wonder what uninspired rubbish they are going to palm off on me as my dinner tonight. Sometimes Cheyenne actually uses her bed though usually she likes to stretch out on the floor where the tile is cooler. She looks pretty inoffensive to me.

I was walking her on Horace Street (I love that name) near The Wharf restaurant and while she was exploring a dusty empty lot occupied by noisy chickens the old dude pictured below started ragging on me for trespassing. I guess it's just not been my week as far as pissing off strangers goes. And though I apologized I looked around and wondered why this patch of malodorous dirt was so dear to his heart. He said he didn't want her to shit there, fair enough I said popping out plastic bags at the ready. Unmollified he glared at me and retreated to his display of fishing floats "For Sale" the hand painted sign said, next to the No Trespassing sign which I had thought was supposed to protect his native art from intruders. How you make a sale protected by a No Trespassing sign baffled me and I was about to enquire but I thought better of it. I applied Trobaritz Logic to the situation and hoped his outburst made him feel happier than he looked. He probably needed to vent on someone; might as well be me.

So I decided to take the cause of my trouble into Key West on an early morning shopping expedition where we met lots of people out walking their dogs. "Met" is not the right word really. We carved a path through other dog walkers is a more accurate description. I don't mind letting Cheyenne sniff other dogs. I am alone it seems in my openness. It's people that sorry me, not their dogs.

If it weren't for Cheyenne I wouldn't see stuff like this, sunrise over the islands. Sometimes I feel like I devote too much energy to my dog, that if it weren't for her I'd be free to ... do I'm not sure exactly what. But something. Instead I'm home with my dog. Or out walking my dog.

The reality is that for all that Cheyenne upsets people just by existing, by being a 107 pound threat to public order, that shits in the open air, sheds copious amounts of indestructible white hairs, and spills good when she eats, she makes the colors of the day brighter and more cheerful. After the old fisherman yelled at me about trespassing on his wasteland a couple of guys round the corner were busy fixing their boat by the side of the street and we fell into conversation about dogs and how great they are even as they age and get stubborn and comfortable in their lives with you. It was such a pleasant moment I completely forgot to take a picture of them. Silly me.

In town the usual view I get of the old hound is of her bottom as she trolls along. I get to see the weird crap she doesn't think about. Like this mural at the Sunbeam Grocery on White Street. Ostensibly it's a delightful painting of folks having fun in the sun, on the sand with delicious frosty fizzy caramelized water for refreshment. As you do... Except not at the Southernmost Point where there is no semblance of a beach as represented. I suppose even commercial Art gets some leeway: only I expect a Truth in Advertising. No wonder my dog thinks I'm an idiot.

Then there was the mailbox on the banyan tree. I wanted to think someone might have decided to seek independence above us mortals, like Italo Calvino's hero I studied in school. I suspect it's just the mail drop for the house hidden by the huge tree. Cheyenne ignored the whole thing and waited patiently, leash at full stretch while I got the picture.

And then there are the mysterious abandoned shoes that litter the Key West landscape. I'm sure each shoe tells a story, and if I had catalogued them I'd bet I'd have a photo essay just on found shoes.

And talking of found stuff Cheyenne had four nice slices of what appeared to be spinach and tomato pizza. It never stood a chance.

What a great dog. She even cleans up other peoples' crap. Good dog.

 

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PODCAST UPDATE.

Everything works finally. What a stress! Go to this page, choose your podcast and hit the relevant button underneath the program notes. Enjoy, give a five star rating and bob's your uncle.

Thank you.

Wednesday, March 4, 2015

Drama In a Tea Cup- Surfboards, Sex Changes and Trolls

It has been brought to my attention in no uncertain terms that my sense of humor is deficient. Under ordinary circumstances one might make such a discovery and find oneself crushed by the understanding that one has no sense of humor. It's an odd thing but being told you are humorless is about as bad as being told you can't  drive. I am not sure why people get defensive about these things but, by golly they do.  After all if you are not very good at driving you can take classes; not that anyone does mind, but you can learn to do better behind the wheel. But for the humor impaired how do you increase your sense of what's funny?
All this pondering came about in my mind recently when I discovered I had been spanked completely and thoroughly by a total stranger online, and what's worse I was blissfully unaware of my unwitting role in her online bondage scenario. I had been following the adventure couple you see in the pictures above, a motorcycle traveler who calls himself Garnaro who took his motorcycle from Santa Cruz, California my former hometown. to Europe by air, and from there rode to Africa- with a surfboard. No seriously:
Later Garnaro was joined by his girlfriend Jamie, crazy brave woman, and together they rode across the remainder of the continent from South Africa to Egypt. It is a travelogue in the finest tradition, full of self deprecating humor, stories of bravery born of desperation, friendship on the road and all the usual overcoming adversity, gorgeously illustrated. I highly recommend starting at the beginning and following Garnaro from Santa Cruz to Turkey: that's the story so far: Horizons Unlimted: Garnaro.

You can imagine for a traveler like myself having access to this story while propping up a desk is sheer delight and it is a great way to spend a few minutes between 911 calls getting out of your head and transporting yourself somewhere far removed to read about someone ably fixing his the problems of his own making. No 911 where Garnaro is riding, and falling off.


Anyway there are ten pages of great travel writing and photography and you have to read it for yourself. I dropped in the odd comment and when Garnaro announced he was getting ready to leave Africa (his surfboard was replaced as mentioned by a human companion) I made in this comment:
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So, you started out with a surfboard in Africa. Now you will be two up in Europe with no surfboard anywhere. I guess I should start to feel cheated by the title of this thread.
However, if you keep the pictures and the narrative going you, and your retinue of assorted women might be forgiven.
Which is to say how is Turkey?

The reference to "a retinue of women" came from an earlier comment I had made when his girlfriend showed up earlier in the thread:
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Quote:
Originally Posted by conchscooter View Post
Here's the thing: women are extraordinary creatures. In every picture since the beginning you are readily identifiable, whether disguised as Mad Max or the Great White Hunter on Safari, as a Beach Bum or Bike Mechanic. Add a woman into the mix and in every frame she looks completely different. Its like you're suddenly riding, no longer alone but with 17 of them, some blonde, some not, some in dresses some in riding gear, now disguised as Jackie Onassis then as a t-shirted student, and presto! you're with some woman tourist in a hammock.
I have no desire to return to Africa on my bike but this tale is filling long summer nights at work quite nicely.
Thank you for the effort. It is well worth while.
Ha! Jamie liked this one. Happy to do it brother.

By making a little joke about not being in Africa and not having a surfboard I was, in a silly way I suppose, congratulating him on achieving his first goal, riding a simple Suzuki 650 single cylinder motorcycle all the way around Africa, surfing a good deal of the way. I was impressed but saying something as bland as "good job" did not seem to do this story justice. So I made a little joke about riding far beyond his original goal. I should never have done!
After I posted my joking comment some seriously humor impaired insecure person savaged my comment! I actually thought it was quite funny being attacked for being an Internet Troll as I am the least likely user to hide behind anonymity. Check it out, I think Garnaro got my point as you can see:
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Oi Vey!
Hey ms. Concha ... you really should READ the report before coming out of your shell! Unbelievable! 

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Quote:
Originally Posted by conchscooter View Post
So, you started out with a surfboard in Africa. Now you will be two up in Europe with no surfboard anywhere. I guess I should start to feel cheated by the title of this thread.
However, if you keep the pictures and the narrative going you, and your retinue of assorted women might be forgiven.
Which is to say how is Turkey?
Seriously - I miss my surfboard! But it was a long way with no waves across N. Africa without a wave in sight. May need to change the title of the blog from 'bugsonmyboard' to 'bugsonmybroad' tho.
Plus I am now unofficially "ms Concha" which leads me to suspect that mollydog has no knowledge of what a konk is, and likely doesn't care. But I am real, though not an actual Conch (conchscooter was given to me as an avatar on a motorcycle forum years ago) and suggesting I be banned from a forum for that one small comment makes you think about the kind of people with whom we are required to share the planet and the Web. People are great, life is good. But I do wish I could turn away from the miseries of 911 and real life and find myself in a make believe world of people who don't have to take offense at every small little thing that causes them rage. Some of us just want to get along, at least we do on some parts of the web.

I apologize for causing offense but my lighthearted comment was intended for the author of this travelogue whose exploits I have been following from the beginning (you might want to check my previous comments) not least because I spent twenty years in Santa Cruz myself (I was not born in Half Moon Bay but I did sail there overnight a few times and enjoyed the fog). I believe Gary took my back handed congratulations on his achievement in the spirit it was intended. 
Erm...I am a man (though my man card is revoked as I enjoy riding a vintage Vespa in my home Key West) and my wife of twenty years is a woman who grew up in Palo Alto and also lived in Santa Cruz. Neither of us surfed.

I answer 911 calls for a living in Key West overnight and I greatly enjoy the pictures and humor of this story. A dry sense of humor in between 911 calls is a pleasure. Thanks for suggesting I be banned; i have never had the honor previously on any forum. 
cheers
Michael.
Back to regular- surfboard free- programming.


So far mollydog has not apologized for her rudeness and presumption and that's too bad.