I wrote an essay a few weeks back on Fishbusterz, a fish house on Stock Island that also sells meals for consumption outside at tables on the docks, there where the fish themselves are landed. So naturally when we had some out of town visitors descend on us for lunch one Saturday we drove them out to Fishbusterz, and amazing to relate the restaurant end has got a new fancy name:
We got a call from Mrs Sailorman saying they had dropped anchor in Key West on their way north to a consulting job and did we want to do lunch? This is a couple we had a passing aquaintance with when we lived briefly in Ft Myers on our boat. They call when they are in Key West and we have had a couple of lunches with them in the past and this year it seems the tradition was to be maintained. My wife and I don't have much of a world view in common with them but one listens and tries to learn. So there we were at the Shrimp Shack of a sunny winter afternoon ordering grouper sandwiches for us and shrimp and fries for them.
I find these kinds of encounters instructive because I get to hear how the world works form a different point of view, even though the point of view itself frequently leaves my head spinning. Sailorman is one of those people I like to describe as having a bluff exterior masking a bluff interior. He pontificates on subjects with a no holds barred attitude that is refreshing and somewhat confusing as he expects me to share those opinions. The "ladies" were inside placing the orders and we were outside holding down a table in a crowded seating area, and lacking sports for common ground economic bailouts were the opening conversational gambit. There at least we could share some scepticism, as clearly our first modest $700 million "bailout" has done bugger all good for anybody, except the jerks pocketing the bonuses. Though I would cautiously welcome a recovery plan that might hope to do some good, Sailorman thinks government stinks in every way at every level. He is one of those people who believes that government can do nothing right. And the autoworkers...well, of course they want too much money to raise their families. A whole $27 an hour i was quick to point out the famously incorrect $80 figure includes costs that are paid out to former employees in pensions and health care benefits ( damn those benefits!).
And the fact that I work for the government, in my albeit modest capacity gets overlooked in the smirking runt of the conversation that relegates government to a level of incompetence worthy only of disgust. This from a man living off a buy out from AT&T, his steady employer for decades, that gave him a large sum of money to quit which which he bought a home and took to a life of pottering about and sailing. Not exactly government but god knows government-like when one remembers American Telephone and Telegraph's monopoly that enabled him to work and retire on such generous terms. The irony of his fulminations against car workers seeking similar compensation packages was completely lost on him.
We got a call from Mrs Sailorman saying they had dropped anchor in Key West on their way north to a consulting job and did we want to do lunch? This is a couple we had a passing aquaintance with when we lived briefly in Ft Myers on our boat. They call when they are in Key West and we have had a couple of lunches with them in the past and this year it seems the tradition was to be maintained. My wife and I don't have much of a world view in common with them but one listens and tries to learn. So there we were at the Shrimp Shack of a sunny winter afternoon ordering grouper sandwiches for us and shrimp and fries for them.I find these kinds of encounters instructive because I get to hear how the world works form a different point of view, even though the point of view itself frequently leaves my head spinning. Sailorman is one of those people I like to describe as having a bluff exterior masking a bluff interior. He pontificates on subjects with a no holds barred attitude that is refreshing and somewhat confusing as he expects me to share those opinions. The "ladies" were inside placing the orders and we were outside holding down a table in a crowded seating area, and lacking sports for common ground economic bailouts were the opening conversational gambit. There at least we could share some scepticism, as clearly our first modest $700 million "bailout" has done bugger all good for anybody, except the jerks pocketing the bonuses. Though I would cautiously welcome a recovery plan that might hope to do some good, Sailorman thinks government stinks in every way at every level. He is one of those people who believes that government can do nothing right. And the autoworkers...well, of course they want too much money to raise their families. A whole $27 an hour i was quick to point out the famously incorrect $80 figure includes costs that are paid out to former employees in pensions and health care benefits ( damn those benefits!).And the fact that I work for the government, in my albeit modest capacity gets overlooked in the smirking runt of the conversation that relegates government to a level of incompetence worthy only of disgust. This from a man living off a buy out from AT&T, his steady employer for decades, that gave him a large sum of money to quit which which he bought a home and took to a life of pottering about and sailing. Not exactly government but god knows government-like when one remembers American Telephone and Telegraph's monopoly that enabled him to work and retire on such generous terms. The irony of his fulminations against car workers seeking similar compensation packages was completely lost on him.They are employed by West Marine the boating world's source for parts and equipment, a huge monopoly based in Watsonville, California where I used to live and where I worked for one delightful summer, and was paid a pittance. Sailorman and his wife are employed from time to time by West Marine to help out opening or closing stores as needed. So they travel by boat and have their docking fees paid by the corporation as part of their contract, and when they are done they are free to sail. It's a good life and well deserved I'm sure. But when they talk about the struggles the company is going through in a declining economy they find it amusing that managers work free overtime for the corporation, that employees work horribly understaffed and are lucky to have a job at all. I can only imagine what my state of mind would be (will be?) if the city told me I had to work extra hours for free to keep my job!
As part of his retirement Sailorman got free health care coverage from AT&T for a while but he grew too old while too young for government provided Medicare and private insurance cost the two of them almost $500 a month so they wondered what to do about this large bite out of their modest means (they have impecunious middle aged children to support, not exactly boot strap paragons). Sailorman served his country in Indochina decades ago and was eligible for Veterans Administration benefits. He spent a large part of the meal extolling this incredible organization, excellent facilities, caring staff, batteries of tests, no charges, no paperwork! Fabulous. "Ah yes," I said dryly. "Our government at work. So what do you think of socialized medicine?"My ironic tone was lost on him completely as he launched into another round of fulsome praise for those fine government funded medical services. How I asked myself, could he be so blind to his own ironies?
We dropped them off back at the dinghy dock and off they sailed to Jacksonville with their next job lined up and waiting. Sailorman will no doubt pound the inland waterway going north, provided for his convenience by the work of the Federal Army Corps of Engineers, fulminating all the way against the stupidity and inefficency of government bureaucrats. The fascination for me is that even faced with the evidence of the unsustainable nature of his contempt, Sailorman is too obtuse to consider changing his strongly held position. A fable for all of us when faced with incontrovertible evidence of the fallacy of our own beliefs. This one will be a tough one for me to apply to my own life and thoughts as we progress into 2009.
Atlantic Avenue in Key West runs east and west along the south side of the island, but, unlike South Roosevelt, Atlantic isn't in sight of the water along most of it's length. Part of the way is covered by tall apartment buildings at 1500 and 1800 Atlantic and the area in between is filled with a lot of mangroves. It is actually, though not obviously a nature preserve:
The entrance to the preserve is easy to miss as it is an inconspicuous little gazebo next to the 1800 Atlantic Boulevard parking lot.
You'd think that people choosing to walk the little quarter mile trail to the beach were taking on an undertaking worthy of an expedition to the Himalayas, judging by the severity of the signage, all manner of warnings about the rough trail littered with obstacles:
"Walk at your own risk," "Many obstacles," and God forbid you ride a bicycle else you might run down and injure more modestly equipped trekkers in this natural wonderland. If the trail were that rugged you'd think pansy Florida cyclists simply wouldn't bother. But where's the fun of a city park without warning signs? And then there is the sign proclaiming no access to wheelchairs- if you're in one you have to go to Rest Beach up the street to check out the ocean front:
Which I found a little odd but there it is. The other odd thing, and decidedly unnatural is the proximity of 1800 Atlantic's utility apparatus.
However in Key West there isn't a lot of room so these things happen quite frequently. You can, for instance find yourself in the bucolic serenity of the Tropical Botanical Garden on Stock Island and see the Aqueduct Pumping Station looming above the trees. The trail itself doesn't seem that tough to negotiate, though there is a pile of sand up next to the water which would be tough to get a wheelchair through.
A pity really because the view is the usual delight, south across the Straits of Florida:
Off to the east the 
And in the other direction, towards the White Street Pier, there is another expanse of sand:
There were a few people on the beach when I was standing around there, but it wasn't nearly as crowded as perhaps it should have been. By Florida standards even this beach is fairly modest, but compared to much of the waterfront up and down the rocky Keys this is expansive indeed:
And up above there was all manner of traffic:
The biplane is to be seen (and heard LOUDLY!) buzzing the beaches towing a banner offering rides, a good long ride for a couple of hundred bucks for two I believe. I still want to do that, and check out the islands from above. Like a pelican, as it were.Meanwhile back on Earth we see humans doing what humans do, calling their friends on their cell phones and (LOUDLY!) wish them a happy new year, in between puffs on their big fat cigars. Quite the life...at 1800 Atlantic.
In the last rays of the sun this enormous block of apartments has some pretensions to beauty. Or something:
Passing by the condos on the way out, the way I came in, I took a quick stop at the mangrove lookout platform, built out over the water alongside the trail. In the right circumstances it might look a tad bit more spectacular I suppose:
And so I found myself heading out to get to work on time, but for others this time of day, close to sunset is the time when recreation replaces obligation and this woman found a spot to perch and draw.
When the Natural Retail Group bought Waterfront Market in Key West from local icon Buco Pantelis, everyone who cares about "things local" announced the sky was falling. There was a great deal of affection for the local grocery store which operated with an emphasis on fresh and organic, but that wasn't a national chain box store. NRG has thirteen stores between Massachussetts and Key West, ten of them are in Florida, two in Maryland and the other on Cape Cod. Key West joined the chain in March 2008.
Since then I have heard from Waterfront adherents that things don't look as good as before and that things are slipping, but I would expect no less. The place has lots of employees all wearing olive colored NRG t-shirts, a touch of uniformity that does strike a discordant note at the "alternative" grocery store:
From the outside the store looks much the same, the same Wyland marine wildlife scene remains on the walls. The name hasn't changed either on the front doors:
But inside the doors, on the parking lot side of the store I found a notice urging people to use reusable shopping bags, such that one gets 20 cents off for every such bag used, in the manner of Whole Foods the national organic chain that does operate big box stores:
And the produce section still offers organics in a community that struggles with the concept of paying more (for anything) that is of higher quality:
My wife's sister, the general practitioner, has come up with some bizarre "cleansing diet" for my wife's inflamed joints which consists of ten days of squash and rice only, so we laid into the squash section trying to find the most interesting range of squashes we could find. Spaghetti (which is a crime to an Italian let me tell you) and acorn and zucchini and some round knobbly thing that is probably native to New England and poisonous to anyone else. We got some help from the olive shirted Natural Retail Group employee who struck me as being cheerful and local, despite early complaints that management imported non locals to run the store after the change over:
Waterfront still offers the array of yuppie sauces, oils, potions and other exotica that the Food Channel on television has introduced across the land:
And the deli section still offers ready to eat meals to the delicate skinned visitors who wear their sun protective hats even indoors such is the strength of the southern sun:
Some foods are so interesting they even tempt, gradually, employees to try them:
Plonk (English slang for wine, often cheap) comes from around the world in proper looking bottles, enough variety to require some serious meditation:
All these exotica may seem run of the mill but Key West has spent much of it's existence since wrecking went out of fashion, just getting by. Wreckers imported anything they found on ships they salvaged and any tour guide in Key West's historic homes will tell you all about where there fittings came from. Nowadays island exotica comes by food truck:
And for those visitors who seek local inspiration Waterfront Market carries a few books, not just cookbooks, for inspiration:
It used to be that there was a fabulous juice bar and Internet cafe upstairs in the mezzanine, but that has gone and that's a loss. 
One acquaintance who was a fervent Waterfront Shopper told me she was disappointed with the change as she has lost a source of products she used to like to buy there. Nowadays she looks for her sodas and soy milk at other stores, including Publix the chain store by excellence. Then there is the fact that things aren't where they used to be and that pissed some regulars off. One point the disaffected brought up to me, who is not a waterfront regular, is that the new management failed to clean up the store when they had an opportunity. They tell me the place was a mess at the end of local ownership and the building could have used a good clean.There is still art hanging around though:
I'm guessing that growing pains will yield to a new generation of shoppers who will gradually forget the "old" waterfront. I remember the annual newspaper listings for jobs paying something pathetic around $7 an hour and the annual turn over of low paid staff. I am not cut out for retail work and those that struggle to deal face to face with the grumpy public have my respect, which I try to retain even when I am grumpy. They do a tough job:
Besides, you can still get a decent sandwich and an organic soda and sit outside facing the water and know you are supporting, if not a local store, local workers and a very small chain in a world still dominated by mega chains. That has to count for something, and the sandwiches are still good. 
Curry Lane reaches west from White Street down that magnificent canyon photographed above. The building on the left is irresistible, a corrugated sheet iron in urban industrial guise masking several residential apartments inside judging by the mailboxes. That view is down the lane this one is out the other way towards White Street near Fleming:
Curry Lane is named for one of the city's most famous pioneer residents, a man called William Curry according to the inestimable J Burke Wills, author of The Streets of Key West, who unravels so many Key West oddities.
The short version is that Curry was born in the Bahamas, came to Key West and set himself up in business with a couple of partners at the tender age of sixteen. At age 23 he went solo and spent the rest of his life amassing a vast fortune. So much so he was rated I believe as Florida's richest man at some point in his life. He traded, he operated a wrecking operation and his death in 1896 caused a massive traffic back up en route to the cemetery. And for all this he gets, besides the Curry Mansion, a tiny alley named for him. It hardly seems fair, though it is, as always pretty enough, this Key West lane:
This place looks old enough to have housed Curry's janitor, though the all wood construction looks more Pacific Northwest in it's rugged exterior style, lacking a sit does porches and tropical ventilation:
And there's more corrugated iron on view as well:
This low slung structure put me in mind of a house I used to live near in Santa Cruz, California. It happened I used to walk my dogs down to the beach at Pleasure Point and I passed this very small house frequently and it looked a bit like the little house pictured above. One rainy winter day a woman bent low to fit through the doorway appeared in front of the house. She looked at me, I said hello and added: "Finally I get to meet the resident of the doll's house." She looked startled, "What?" she said recoiling. I repeated my comment saying I'd always wondered who lived there as I lived round the corner. "Oh," she said. "I thought you said the devil's house." I never saw her again and perhaps my ill considered comment stuck in her mind (as it did in mine, apparently) causing her to duck inside every time she saw me coming with Emma and Debs...Back to Curry Lane where full sized houses are to found and for sale too:
There was lots of art work on offer on the lane including one tantalizing studio:
Some seasonal stuff, with a Key West twist ( I took these pictures last month):
And this orchid was quite charming I thought in its special holder:
And there was this strange yin and yang thing going on, a fierce dog perhaps representing the destruction of yang with the whirligig the preservation of yin or vice versa. Or not.
And there was a sophisticated little note en francais which might not have the desired effect should one be hoping to inform the unwashed masses that this residence is private:
I'm not generally too accomplished when it comes to identifying cars but this looks like an old fashioned short wheelbase Land Rover, now apparently become an Indian corporation, which puts me in mind of Enfield motorcycles.
Fine vehicles of course but as I recall an absolute bear to drive, and not at all suited to the cut and thrust of urban Key West traffic. But there again were we all conformists I'd be riding a Harley Davidson. There's a thought.