Floridian Test

You know you're a Floridian if....

Socks are only for bowling..
You don't use an umbrella because you know the rain will be over in five minutes...
A good parking place has nothing to do with distance from the store, but everything to do with shade...
Your winter coat is made of denim...
You can tell the difference between fire ant bites and mosquito bites...
Anything under 70 degrees is chilly...
You've driven through Yeehaw Junction...
You know that no other grocery store can compare to Publix...
Every other house in your neighborhood had blue roofs in 2004-2005...
You are on a first name basis with the Hurricane list. They aren't Hurricane Charley or Hurricane Frances. You know them as Andrew, Charley , Frances , Ivan and Jeanne...
You know what a snowbird is and when they'll leave...
You think a six-foot alligator is actually pretty average...
Flip-flops are everyday wear. Shoes are for business meetings...
You have a drawer full of bathing suits, and one sweatshirt..
A mountain is any hill 100 feet above sea level...
You know the four seasons really are: hurricane season, lobster season, tourist season and summer...
You've hosted a hurricane party...
You can pronounce Okeechobee, Kissimmee , Withlacoochee and Micanopy...
You understand why it's better to have a friend with a boat, than have a boat yourself...
You've worn shorts and used the A/C on Christmas and New Years...
You recognize Dade as ' Northern Cuba ' ...

You not only forward this but you understand it!

I don't normally post stuff like this but the exception makes the rule, and this list, slightly edited to reflect my truths about being a Floridian, made me laugh. Also this post won't substitute for my usual photo essay in this spot. This is an optional extra.

Hogfish

Stock Island is going to be redeveloped, the land is bought, the plans are laid, the permissions sought. We wait with bated breath to see what condo monstrosities will rise like mushrooms across what is now a working person's island. Hogfish is firmly ensconced in that tradition, an open air bar and restaurant on the waterfront:This is a quiet corner of Safe Harbor, sure they play music, melodic 60's and 70's when I was there on Sunday, but this isn't the place to get rowdy or rude. If you need air conditioning the spritzer cooling system may not work for you:Reviewing the quality of food in Keys restaurants is a tricky business, cooks come and go, sometimes they have bad days, other days they show up drunk, and all the minutiae of their daily lives tends to get plated with the food. I've had badly cooked fish at Hogfish (once) but the fish fingers I had Sunday were divine, as they normally are, soft white flesh inside, crisp steaming battered outside. And the iced tea wasn't bad at all, I drank enough heaven knows, and here in proper southern style they offer it sweetened as well.The staff were friendly and cheerful keeping my glass filled but leaving me in peace to read and eat, which is exactly how I like it. The totally outside tables dockside I prefer in the winter but some hardy souls were perspiring under the umbrellas:There is a daily menu plus a list of printed items as well, hamburgers and chicken and stuff like that all jumbled up with the various catches of the day:If you are feeling more jocular you will appreciate the welcome sign nailed among the bric-a-brac:All of which would be enough to recommend Hogfish to friends, though finding this place is a little tricky. Riding down the main drag on Stock Island from Highway One you will reach a West Marine Store on the right (reverse direction in this picture, for my convenience):Follow the little white signs on 4th Avenue andthey will tell you to turn left on Front Street and after half a mile there you are, a last little piece of old Stock Island. And if the restaurant weren't enough, there's more to this place than just somewhere to eat drink and listen to music. There is a private little world here.Try and guess if this inhabitant is a local or a visitor:If you guessed local you'd be right; he's given away by his lack of clothing and in particular his lack of interest in name brand clothing. If he's a visitor he's doing a fine job of imitation. His neighbors live alongside in boats either commercial or recreational, though around here recreational means "affordable home afloat":Not everyone lives in a small floating space, gentrification is nipping at Safe Harbor's heels:A nice house is nothing compared to what's in the works. In a previous essay on Stock island I mentioned the new marina planned for the other side of the harbor and developers are trying to get a hotel approved without submitting it to rigorous state mandated building restrictions. They say it will be useful as a storm refuge for essential personnel. The state is not impressed by the reasoning but something big this way comes. Money talks, and we hope Hogfish and its surrounding community can hold on.

It's not fancy, but the people who live here and keep art studios and craft shops along the dock live lives worth preserving in my opinion. The docks are clean and tidy and well maintained:The residents know how to make a place homely and they've even built a a little plaza to hang out in:The sheds are used to fabricate and create because this is a community of independent thinkers and creators. I met one resident getting off her boat and she was restraining her very elderly guard dog, who though barely able to stand was determined I shouldn't interfere with their home. Faithful to the end he looked at me through rheumy eyes, his hind legs barely able to support his thin old frame and I wanted to hug him, but I don't think it would have done his self respect any good. He is still a guard dog, still breathing thus still on duty.

It takes long time residence to create this sort of ambiance in a marina, and its not how they want the new/old Kings Pointe or Key West Harbor marinas to look. They prefer sterile order, I prefer this:

I had to go to work as I had signed up for some overtime to cover for a sick colleague, so I tootled off on my Bonneville (Argh! I FORGOT to photograph it. I'm losing my mind) and went to do my bit for police communications. I got off at midnight and decided I needed to savor the peace and tranquility of safe harbor in the middle of the night.Ah yes, Hogfish, what a good idea it was to remind me to pay a visit.

The Sunny Side

There are days when the heat gets too much for me, and that's saying something. I revel in being warm, sweat lubricates me, humidity reassures me that I am still alive still able to breathe, still one with the program. I listen to people who come to Key West and complain about the temperatures, as though it should come as any kind of surprise that Key West would be hot in the summer.In the deserts of the south west temperatures routinely climb into the 100's and as high as 120, sometimes more, and people say they prefer that heat because its dry. As though cracked fingernails and hair dehydrated like straw is a good thing. In the Keys its a hot day when the temperature climbs over 95, and beyond Key West proper the temperatures always seem a little more bearable given how much less cement and asphalt there is outside the city. When I ride into town on a summer afternoon I can feel the hotter air hit me as I cross the Cow Key Bridge. By contrast my home on rural Ramrod Key frequently benefits from the lightest of sea breezes ruffling the foliage of the mature trees that surround and cool my house. Shavers Lane, just off Duval street positively shimmers with white hot heat of a July afternoon:I spotted a black doorway on another side street and was shocked to realise the door was open, and even though the interior was plunged into darkness the lack of air conditioning must have had the occupants panting:I enjoy the heat but the blessings of air conditioning shouldn't be underestimated, and I very much enjoy the cool of my home, especially when sleeping (and I do a lot of that in the heat of the day as i work nights). There are a lot of homes down here without air, or that choose not to use air. In the height of summer my 800 square foot home costs about $130 a month to cool. In the winter our monthly bills drop to around $35. The numbers aren't high but its clear the air is what sucks up the juice.

I like air in the car too, but my wife seconds the notion that the top should be down at all times, like these lobsters patrolling Duval Street in their Miata:Some unsuspecting visitors rent bicycles, and then find they have to pause for refreshment in any available patch of shade to catch their breaths:Others rent electric cars that don't have air but they do have a roof for mobile shade:Motorcycles work though their seats can get burning hot if you leave them in the sun and plan on riding them in shorts:Moped renters would be the despair of all those who fervently proclaim the value of protective clothing while riding:

Though what they might suggest for these two I wouldn't know. Her hat doesn't look much like a helmet but I found it quite fetching:

At the end of the mobility food chain we find people actually taking the time to walk in the heat. Visitors for some reason like to walk on the sunny side of the street, while slippery locals, like me, snap pictures from the shady side:Some walkers, even though choosing to walk on the sunny side of the street carry refrigeration with them:

These women were admiring the gruesome t-shirts displayed in the shop window, in a previous essay I wondered who it is that likes to buy I love to fart t-shirts. Happily these three bemused French tourists declined the opportunity:I don't think this message got through to them either though I expect that being French, they would have handled the message outside a well known gay bar, with continental aplomb:

Doesn't that man look horribly sunburned, poor thing? Talking of sunburn and I am forced to remind myself some people in Key West have to work for a living:

I think this guy is a little to fair skinned to be out with a buzz cut and no hat:

For some people though work is a loosely defined term, such as standing in your shop doorway, smoking a cigarette and watching the girls flounce by:

One such stopped at a booth to...use the phone. Look closely because you won't see this scene very often anymore, a young person dropping a coin...though I have to confess I forgot my phone at home while taking these pictures and was glad for the use of old fashioned pay phones to keep in touch:

In passing I looked up the alleyway next to the Opera restaurant and was surprised not to see groups of heat refugees huddling desperate in the shade:On the other hand many visitors to Key West have a very clear idea of what to do about the heat:Margaritaville was packed of course, though they don't need heat to encourage the punters to sidle up to the bar and waste away for a while:

Me? I kept walking, I had pictures to take and places to go and a Bonneville to find somewhere down town. No moaning either, I love the heat, no matter how hard it makes it to find one's motorcycle again.

Vignettes IX

There have been a few unattended deaths in the Lower Keys lately. Several residentially challenged residents have died around the Key Haven area, and one popular homeless dude was found near here at the boat ramp. He was known as Gypsy and was seen selling Citizen newspapers with his bicycle, trailer and a rather cool dog. He's gone, the ramp remains and people use it, as they should, to launch their boats for a fun day on the water:Some pirates are busy pirates others are more laid back:Taking their ease on their homes afloat. I remember doing this and now I'm up at all hours working, and enjoying it too. I don't envy him, his sunny retirement, which surprises me.

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One of the pleasures of working is spending the night, in a manner of speaking, with pleasant coworkers, among whom I count Diggy my right hand man in dispatch. He;'s had some good news recently and some not so good. He became a US citizen (US-1, Nicaragua-0) and his motorcycle stopped running.The lack of combustion in his Honda Aero 750 got him down a bit, and I decided to get involved with my car and my trailer. Diggy is the only one of two other people who work at the police department who regularly commute on two wheels. I felt he needed an outside boost. He seemed grateful as we set out for the shop at Ken's place across town.Sometimes things get overwhelming and all it takes is a little help to get the ball rolling. No word yet on why it died so completely but we rolled the Honda into some mechanical therapy. A broken Honda, imagine that.

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Extra! Extra! City of Key West running out of money! Read all about it! Not exactly, more like the city wants to prevent itself getting caught too short so to help the budget along they closed the free informal parking lot across from Smathers Beach. We shall be saved from insolvency twenty five cents at a time by forcing people to park at the meters across the street. Witness the now empty lot beyond the palm trees:This is summer time at Smathers, which means flat water, bright sun, sparkling waters and a book, or an Ipod or something electronic and a deck chair:Or for the busy people wanting to enjoy a vacation there's the possibility of a painted ship upon a painted ocean:It was far out trying to find a breeze. And failing. Not so busy after all.

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I had a few pictures left over from my essay on the heat of summer that I liked but couldn't think how to fit them in. A shot of the lighthouse from the Hemingway House. Me photographing them photographing me, photographing them...Everyone likes a shot of Duval Street. This one hit my whimsy button when I saw a sale sign on the sandal shop. I've never seen Birkenstocks on sale until now:I imagined the unwary realising their mistake in arriving in the Southernmost City with unsuitable footwear and finding these icons of funky footwear at BMW prices- on sale. While I was on Duval I spotted these umbrellas at the Pegasus Hotel, Key West's Art Deco establishment with a rooftop pool:One way to spend a summer afternoon. But not me I was out taking pictures, including these happy youngsters enjoying their 50cc freedom. It reminded me of me 40 years ago, carefree and young, at least in my memory:Nostalgia being what it is I ducked into Fast Buck Freddies department store for some cold air and I met a couple of coworkers from my time there five years ago. I enjoyed working in shipping, it was a challenge but the police paid better and offered overtime. I like dropping in on Fast Bucks especially as our anniversary is coming up and She will be glad to be surprised with something when I decide what it is.

I sheltered from the heat in the Aladdin's cave gloom of the store where I bumped into a couple of my former coworkers who remembered me, a minor miracle in a town with the turn over of Key West. John the manager is starting to think about retirement after three decades with the store, a remarkable life of stability in Key West. We talked and it was a pleasure to hear his thoughts on Costa Rica, tinged with regret at the thought of leaving a town he himself describes as special, even after all those years dealing with its trials and tribulations. I came for the air conditioning and got an uplifting chat. A nice and unexpected treat.

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A ride in a Pepto Bismol pink cab these days is supposed to be "eco-friendly" if you get in one of their new SUV hybrids that return 38mpg (15km/liter).

New York City is apparently sucking up all the available hybrid cabs as all 13,000 in the city are supposed to be fuel efficient in a couple of years. We got half a dozen to much fanfare. It's an unlikely looking solution to Peak Oil, but I gloomily suppose every little bit helps.

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43 units are being planned for Key Haven, that place this series of vignettes started at. They want to pave over the mangrove islands and build a "community:"

Naturally I say leave well enough alone not having a stake in the profits to be made from this enterprise.

This is the entrance to a place known as Enchanted Island, home of anglers and mangroves. Soon to be a luxury community near you. And The Blue Paper is alleging loudly the city manager was hired after he retired from the Navy as a quid pro quo for moving jet flight paths from directly over this wealthy community and inflicting them instead on the impoverished trailers of Stock Island. No comment say I, wondering whatever happened to the concept of muzzling the press.

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Many many years ago in a fit of pique at the job I was tired of, I applied from cool foggy California for a job in the town of Sitka, Alaska. Someone I knew who was familiar, he said, with the Alaska panhandle, told me it was a fine place to live. Lots of rain he intimated but not especially frigid. Thus it is I have a fondness for blogs that describe life in the frozen North. I wonder what might have become of me had the job materialised for me...It would not, I think have been a good fit. I read of acts of daily heroism coping with snow in July, fog, rain and monstrous costs of living in a land with not many recreations that appeal to summery weakling like me.I find myself content with rich deep greens and blues and the white sunlight, a long glass of icy lemonade and a book. This sort of thing I can do year round in the deep south. My kind of place.