Pez Garden

I call it the Pez Garden because that's what people used to call it but I'm not sure if I'm showing my age by describing the Key West Memorial Sculpture Garden that way. 

You can see why: they do look like giant Pez dispensers.  If you live in the garden I suppose it's possible to find the newspaper more interesting but I like wandering in here from time to time.

Lena Johnson was born at 830 Division Street (Truman Avenue) in 1870 and lived there until she died in 1832. Her father came from the Bahamas and worked as a pharmacist in Key West. She worked as a candy maker, never got married and was the first woman member of the city commission. A life encapsulated though I suspect there was more to it than that. Speculate at will.

Norberg Thompson is remembered for creating the waterfront fishing industry and you can see his name on the monument at Elizabeth and Green Streets.  The problem with the Pez Garden is that there are too many heads and too many stories. I have no idea how the various faces were selected and who was left out though I do wonder about that.

There was one artist who sculpted the heads apparently called James Mastin who died in 2017 so I suppose the garden will not be growing any more. 

Julius Stone, the man who saved Key West from the Depression, invented tropical tourism in the Keys before fleeing in disgrace after some questionable business deals and dying in obscurity in Australia. I'd think he would be one worth listening to if you got the chance to hear his stories. They probably would be cheerful untruths but entertaining.

I read the biographies because I enjoy history but the short version here is she came to key West from Germany, married repeatedly in an era when death and disease went hand in hand with life, and left a bunch of descendants.

When people talk of the good old days these are the lives I think about, struggles just like ours, less science, less medicine more isolation and less travel and so forth. Pretty much just life lived. 

The next one is the stand out African American who manages to make it into the history books about Key West. Born a slave then freed, then a house fire burned his emancipation papers so to prevent himself being enslaved again he cut himself up to render himself worthless. That's how much people enjoyed being enslaved lest you believe the propaganda, and he went on to live a full respectable life in Key West.

I think there were more of these remarkable lives than we remember  but Sandy Cornish has to carry the load largely by himself. He was remarkable, exceptional even but not unique. 

Here's the man who caused chaos by integrating the Armed Forces, and as usual the integration caused not a ripple and it's something we don't even give two thoughts to nowadays. I remember the same arguments about integrating gays and now the target is transgendered. Apparently there is no end to the list of people who threaten our way of life. Harry Truman was pretty mild mannered for such a revolutionary and of course he loved spending time in Key West.

The playwright Tennessee Williams lived on Duncan Street ina house not even marked by his passing though he was a writer known throughout the world. I have read that Hemingway gets more mileage than Williams thanks to his manliness, chasing women, the outdoors and war. By contrast Williams was gay and came to town in search of lonely sailors and discovered a tropical Paradise. There are so many more and you can take your pick of names of artists touched by Key West.

The wreckers statue in the middle of the garden is evocative to me. Wrecking is often conflated with piracy which it was not. It was hard dangerous work in recovering ships possibly and certainly their cargoes from dangerous spots where the ground had risen up and met the hulls. As expressed:

Fortunes were made in Key West which was an important port for traffic between the Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico. Fashions landed here first and wreckers pulled ashore valuable modern furniture and house furnishings not seen elsewhere in Florida. Key West luxuriated.

You may have heard of the Curry Mansion. Here's why:

One of my favorite misunderstood characters is David Porter who ended up patrolling North African waters after his successful anti-piracy campaign in the Keys annoyed well connected people. 

When people try to tell me there were pirates in Key West I nod solemnly not to burst their balloons but I think of this man and silently thank him for his good work making the seas safe for commerce. 

Among all his other preoccupations the King of Spain laid claim to Key West and gave a concession to a man called Juan Salas who promptly sold the island to four other men, one of them shown below:

He doesn't look special but he started the whole ball of wax rolling. In the right place at the right time. 

The list goes on.  As you can tell I spend quite a few happy times communing with the dead in the Pez Garden. You can even buy a brick for a thousand bucks and memorialize a name here. You can unless your wife thinks its a waste of money.

Candid Public Photos

It has been hot and sticky in South Florida, balanced by a continuing fresh breeze making the evenings cool and pleasant. All of which does not mean that sudden downpours are not happening. I was on Front Street meandering without Rusty, when a sudden cloud burst sent me for cover on a bench under an awning, I sat on after the rain and watched people go by.

Ever since my wreck when my helmet saved my life if not my pelvis I notice the unguarded heads riding by, some of them apparently worth photographing.  I don't really care if people wear helmets and I don't favor laws requiring them as we don't have a cohesive health care mandate from the government so taking your chances seems to be in the spirit of personal responsibility. Lots of people wreck in Key West and you never hear about them if you don't answer 911.

I got 50 years of helmeted riding in my memory bank and that seems like a good stretch. My wife is much more traumatized by my time time in the hospital than I am so it seems cruel to insist on continuing to ride at this point. The van is a  surprisingly adequate substitute for getting around.

At age 63 having your own toilet and getting hot cups of tea while driving seem like a reasonable exchange for sitting out in the weather while enjoying near misses from ever more distracted drivers.

It occurs to me you could make a pretty expansive home inside a tour bus. I'd cover up the windows as I feel no need to live my life in full view, but I'll bet they are easy enough to drive as they can handle the narrow Key West streets. 

I have to confess I rarely see interesting people on the streets. I don't like to wear hats and I do like a collar on my shirt but I don't dress a part. I call it the Key West uniform:

And there is a thriving rental company renting dream vehicles for use in Paradise: Jeeps. When I first thought about driving South America I thought about using a Jeep but a little research showed four wheel drive is totally unnecessary for my kind of travel. A good thing to know is the Wrangler is sold world wide so if you do want to travel and not live comfortably in your vehicle a Wrangler is iconic and useful. The things you learn. I learned I like having the comforts in a van on the road. 

One of those things I appreciate about Key West is the lack of attention paid to status symbols. It isn't like it was but there still remains forgiveness for those of us not interested in fashion or costly accessories.

Be yourself they say. So one does. Dress up or dress down and do expect to be thanked one way or the other.

Strangely overcast days alternating with sunshine apparently at random.

A feature of winter living in Key West is the arrival of snowbirds of course, people escaping the cold. Weirdly enough the population of homeless people swells as well during the winter months. Some few hardcore locals hang out through the long hot sweaty rainy summers.  

I asked one of them recently, a guy I see around town all the time if he got bored living on the streets after  47  years in the same town and he looked me as though I was insane. "Key West? Boring?" There goes a man with fortitude I thought to myself as Rich shuffled off shaking his head. 

Sometimes you just have to sit and think. Imagine doing that in front of a restaurant that has survived Covid among all the other catastrophes that can beset a town in the hurricane belt. There are visitors to Key West who dream of going back to Joe's Place and here it is, trundling on, durability made real in a town where change is constant. And yes I do photograph the brick building every time I visit Mallory Square. I like it.

Bicycle tours. I like to walk but as usual I am an outlier. Most people love to ride bicycles when they come to Key West. I prefer to amble. Better hope I keep ambling because that's how I get my pictures.

It was hot. I got out of work early so Rusty was at home. It was so hot he didn't leap out to greet me as he usually does when I get home at 6:30 in the cool of the evening.  Why he wasn't indoors enjoying air conditioning I couldn't say but he loves sitting outside, not barking, not running into the street, just watching. In this case in the shade of the van. Weird dog, perfectly adapted to Key West life.

Waterfront

I read a rather disturbing article in the paper about this place with the owners found guilty of stealing overtime pay from employees. Makes me glad I work for the city which has never missed a paycheck, pays overtime as required and doesn't play silly buggers with workers' lives. There are lots of things to complain about but it would be churlish to engage that line of thinking now I am so close to a securely funded old age. 

I've also been reading about drought in the west. We have friends who live in Arizona, a popular destination for our generation, and I imagine the gentle bake under 130 degree skies. Warmer days ahead indeed.  I checked Anchorage for fun and future interest and 70 degree days and 55 degree nights sound...bracing. I'm glad the van is well insulated.

I like to toss a nod to Hemingway's bust when I pass by Bahama Street trying to keep up with my dog. My next step will be to lurk here and catch the reactions of passers by. Then write a thesis on it all.

Across town there is a water spigot on the waterfront where I can fill Rusty's gallon water bottle I carry in the car. While I was doing that Rusty wandered around sniffing grass then eating it. A sudden commotion, the Hound of the Baskervilles! broke out from a  car parked across the lot. Some poor bugger walking his out of control hound hung on like grim death and inched the black bastard back to the car which promptly drove off into the night. Rusty, who had looked up briefly at the commotion got back to grazing while I finished filling his water bottle.

I like the modern bicycle racks installed around town. They are almost as artistic as the Hemingway bust on Bahama Street. I still don't like riding bicycles much but I appreciate they are much in demand by people much cooler than me, plodding along with a camera hung round my neck and my dog showing me the way.

I have also learned through extensive accidental research that the cool way to carry a camera is to have it attached to a sling. That being the case I naturally balk and prefer the traditional neck strap. It's nice to be old and not give  a damn.

Rusty telling me he wants to get back in the car and go home to sleep. No need to bark.

Tamiami Trail

You have to drive at least 800 miles from Key West to find a hill, or at least a piece of high ground 500 feet above sea level. Basically go due north, pass Atlanta and get into the Blue Ridge foothills, around Dahlonega. So if your idea of scenic involves winding roads and hills and valleys and Alpine rivers and so forth, Florida may not be the state for you. Tamiami Trail across the Everglades is considered scenic around here.

Fishing is as popular here as it is in the Keys and there is a canal running alongside the road. If you want to see actual Florida alligators you might spot one along here but you need to take Loop Road, a 24 mile dirt road easily driven in a sedan, or you can stop at Clyde Butcher's Gallery where there is a gator in the pool next to the parking lot.

Cell service is mostly available on Verizon though its not as strong as along the freeway to the north. There is a Miccosukee gas station at the eastern end and another gas station at the Naples end of the trail at a junction called Carnestown (no actual town visible!) so this is not desolation in case you were worried.

The Miccosukee Tribe live around here adding a little extra color to the proceedings.  They guard their privacy behind fences along the highway and the road is patrolled by white police cars with the classic red yellow and black stripes of the tribal colors. Speeding is not advised speaking as one who has avoided a ticket here since about 2001 when I got a 60 in a 45 zone at two in the morning when I wasn't paying attention. I've paid attention ever since here and on Alligator Alley.

There are assorted national park and preserves around. here with camping in what are essentially fields in the middle of the cypress forests. They are closed in summer when heat humidity and mosquitoes rule the Everglades.

Monroe Station marks the point where Monroe County extends furthest north onto the mainland. There are half a dozen families that live along Loop Road whose county seat weirdly enough is Key West and their relations with the Miccosukee were highlighted in 2013 when the tribe closed the east end of Loop Road as a "precaution" forcing the families to drive the long way in and out which they did with the sort of airing of grievance you might imagine was clearly reported in the papers.

The Monroe Station, a stop along the road much valued in the mid 20th century has finally been torn down and replaced with a parking lot. I think there was a song written abut such practices but Joni Mitchell isn't around to point it out. The big wooden building, crumbling for decades is gone.

There is a closed off parking lot of some sort but we found room to park the van and air out Rusty. Tamiami Trail was the only road across South Florida for a long time. Alligator Alley was completed as an interstate in the 1980s and I remember the join up of the two halves. The work to build this road was dreadful from Barron Collier's Naples end to Miami through swamps with dredges and wood cutting and fever and all the usual struggle to build in the wetlands of South Florida. But they persisted. 

Hard core off road vehicles crossing the highway to adventures further north. They waved as they went and looked ready for fun. I trust they were covered in deet.

Apparently you can buy a permit to park your tow vehicle here and with the permit comes a gate code. The last person to use the gate followed the instruction to please put the lock in upside down which I suppose makes it easier to read.

A popular spot on a June weekend.

I found the plea in the pit toilet a useful reminder that common sense isn't so common. Pity the person who has the task of removing the trash...

There is an exit only road back to the highway which has not gate but I don't see the pleasure of parking in this desolate spot anyway but we had a good look round as you can see.

Some neighbors waiting for catastrophe to strike along the highway. Someone's road traffic accident is someone else's lunch.

On the road again. Winter travel here opens up dry season trails, restaurants in the small communities around Goodland and Chokoloskee and camping when the heat won't strangle you. Drive it at least once if you are in South Florida and buy a small Clyde Butcher print to remind you of the wonders of the place. You can buy them large enough for the foyer wall in your mansion or small enough to fit in the camper van. Ask and I'll show you mine.