Florida Snow

The National Weather Service says snow, hail and sleet have been falling across Florida and even in Miami the low last night hit 39 degrees. Nancy sent me this picture from Ocala where frost is always a possibility in winter:It's been going on too long, and I myself am starting to feel like an iguana, sluggish and sleepy all the time. Supposedly it should be over by Thursday and not a moment too soon, with a low predicted tonight of 45 in Key West. Paula said her living room never made it above 50 degrees (10C), and she came to work in her (fake fur) lined parka which looks both absurd and enviably comfortable at the same time. The only good thing I can see is that we did have some sunshine this afternoon, and no crowds are expected to be about in the city tonight. Last night we had one arrest, and I rather think the trespasser didn't do too badly at all considering how cold it was all night outside the jail. I couldn't bring myself to ride the Bonneville to work tonight, blaming the 35 mile per hour north winds, for making it feel just too cold.

The Jury Box

I got to sit in the jury box for a few hours Monday at the Aronovitz Federal Building on Simonton Street in the courtroom of Judge Jose Martinez a jovial bearded man who resembled nothing quite so much as Ed Asner with a sense of humor to match. I was not in the box for the trial, just for the question and answer session they inflict upon potential jurors to gauge suitability as a juror. I found this rather inadequate, beard-less image of him online at a US Immigration website:

There is a rule forbidding picture taking inside Federal Courthouses which is a drag for someone like me, but my summons to jury duty was unavoidable as my request to be dismissed had been refused already by the clerk in Miami who oversees our jurisdiction. So I walked Cheyenne at six o'clock in the morning and we drove into town together where I left her in the car at the Park and Ride structure at Grinnell Street. She is getting better about being left alone but this had the potential to be an all day affair so I preferred to take her with me. I wolfed a large con leche and a cheese toast at the Cuban Queen and hiked down to the Federal Building. I need not have hurried, as the line was out the door with part of the sixty potential jurors waiting to get through the security checks that are endemic these days.

Many people view jury duty as a chore but to me it is part of the privilege of citizenship, however that privilege is tempered by the fact that I am never going to get picked by virtue of my trade. Which means I am in the pool of potential jurors in a small town where the pool is necessarily small, but my only function is to flesh out the numbers to give the appearance of a choice in the selection of a jury.

The selection process is laborious and it goes by it's French name (French? Zut alors!) of Voir-Dire, which means "to see" and "to hear." This is the method by which lawyers and the defendants get to choose who judges the evidence in the case. The whole process has to be spelled out painfully by the judge who has to assume that there are people in the jury pool who are complete novices in the process, and it is a fine thing actually to see how carefully justice is administered. However it takes a l-o-o-o-n-g time. We each had to define ourselves by our jobs and by the jobs of our nearest relatives. That being the case I can say with absolute certainty no defense attorney in the world wants a Police Department employee judging the veracity of an accused drug smuggler and here we had three of them all lined up with their attorneys. I was clearly not going to be selected but I had to go through the questioning.

The interior of the Federal Building is as you might imagine, cream walls, wooden floors and heavy oak doors. Federal Marshals glide through the corridors in their blue blazers looking like clerks and not at all like gun wielding Tommy Lee Jones in some improbable movie role. The building makes no provision for jury selection so we were shuffled into a courtroom and got some instructions, a room full of strangers with nothing much to do or say, and while we waited the late comers who had seized up the state of affairs better than I, were shown into the room.

"Ha," said Phil as he slid into a seat next to me. "You look like a pro at this." I was reading a penny dreadful novel about serial killers and the FBI but I refrained from pointing out to Phil that he was clearly the expert as he had timed his appearance just right, while I had gulped my breakfast and rushed to be exactly on time. We chatted and Phil told me how people used to gather in the Federal Building when it was also the Post Office to exchange gossip. I ran my idea past him that to return to those halcyon days we should blow up the seven mile bridge and force people to come by ferry. "And so we'd all experience a drop in our standard of living?" Phil the pragmatist said, thus reminding us all that the "good old days" were a time of no money and not much opportunity. Phil plays the piano at Little Palm island resort and has done so for two decades. "I'm the longest serving employee at Little Palm," he said thoughtfully, just before we were called in to another courtroom for the Voir-Dire.

I made the room laugh when Judge Martinez asked me his rote question about marital status: "Happy" I said, which set the theme for the morning. One juror said she was happily divorced, "I took him to the cleaners," she said when asked if she worked outside the home. There were quite a few "investors" and women who didn't work outside the home in the pool, but I noted they were from Key Largo, home to the wealthy people of the Keys. Federal Jury selection is county wide. Phil contrived to draw attention to himself immediately when the Judge noticed he was not taking the oath. "I don't like to swear to God" Phil said. He got a separate oath asking him to swear or affirm without being helped by God. The when he was asked if he could be impartial Phil looked glumly around the room and said "I don't really agree with the drug laws relating to marijuana in this country." There was a stricken pause. Judge Martinez, with a twinkle in his eye said. "I suppose we should take it you feel the drug laws should be more draconian and more strictly enforced?" Phil the musician ran his fingers through his wildly tousled hair and said: "I'm not sure I see the point of prosecuting marijuana dealers." Judge Martinez started down the path to discussion and then pulled back, "This isn't the place for a debate about our drug laws." Later while we were sitting in the corridor on another of our interminable pauses, Phil's name was called and he was excused. He grinned unabashed at me, the "professional juror in waiting" with my novel, and ran for the exit. I sighed; I knew I wasn't going to get selected but I had to go through the motions, so help me god.

"Could you agree to a not guilty verdict and go back to work and tell your colleagues what you voted?" asked the ever jovial judge when I said I could be impartial despite my job. "It would be an interesting debate," I said, "but I know how to defend my motives and my opinions." When the final fourteen jurors were called (twelve plus two alternates who get to sit in judgement but only vote if there is a member of the jury who has to drop out before the end of the trial which was projected to last two weeks) my name was not among them. I dropped off my request for parking reimbursement and ran out of the building into the pale winter sunshine outside. Cheyenne was glad to see me when I awoke her from a deep sleep, and the rest of the day was ours.

Had I served on the federal jury I would have been excused for two years from further service, as it is I am excused from state and federal duty for one whole year at this point. Then I know I will be called again, and again as usual. While strolling the dog park I noticed a poster for a play which had a very well received run at the Waterfront Playhouse. We went to see the play before Christmas and enjoyed the production thoroughly. It was more thought provoking than the well known movie by the same name featuring Henry Fonda. I came away from the play with many more questions in my mind than I had after the last time I saw the film. A friend of ours said, to our surprise, that she had never seen the film so the plot came as a complete surprise to her. It has since occurred to me that perhaps not serving on a jury is a blessing, I am judged by my trade and that will preclude me forever from sitting in judgement on some else's motives and actions. Following the drama of the play it is clear that presentation can be everything and who knows what truths would be presented in the course of the two weeks of the trial that I might have had to sit in judgement upon? Perhaps my non-selection spared me from making some horrible mistake, and sending someone to Federal prison for decades for smuggling marijuana might cause even drug free me some sleepless nights. Much to the surprise of the defense attorneys who rejected me from their jury.

Nutty Weather

Currently 50 degrees with a windchill of 44 with colder temperatures to follow tonight after the wind blows the clouds and rain away. These conditions are nothing for people Up North but are extreme for the Keys. I could see my breath today which was a bit of a shocker, when I braved outdoor conditions to pick some lettuce.

So we got a special weather statement, just for us tonight:

THE STRONG NORTH WINDS WILL DRAW COLD AIR SOUTHWARD THROUGH TONIGHT... WITH TEMPERATURES FALLING INTO THE 40S. UPPER KEYS COMMUNITIES WILL BE COLDEST WITH LOWS AROUND 40 BOTH TONIGHT AND SUNDAY NIGHT. WIND CHILLS WILL DIP INTO THE 30S IN MOST UPPER AND MIDDLE KEYS COMMUNITIES WITH WIND CHILLS DOWN TO AT LEAST 40 IN THE LOWER KEYS.

A WIND CHILL ADVISORY WILL LIKELY BE REQUIRED TONIGHT FOR THE UPPER KEYS AND PORTIONS OF THE MIDDLE KEYS.

FLORIDA KEYS RESIDENTS ARE ENCOURAGED TO DRESS WARMLY... TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE WET AND RAINY CONDITIONS. ALSO... CARE PROPERLY FOR ANY SENSITIVE PETS OR PLANTS.

THE FOLLOWING IS THE LATEST COLD WEATHER SHELTER INFORMATION...

THE BURTON MEMORIAL UNITED METHODIST CHURCH... LOCATED AT 93001 US HIGHWAY 1 IN TAVERNIER... THE ISLAND CHRISTIAN SCHOOL... FAMILY LIFE CENTER... LOCATED AT 83400 OVERSEAS HIGHWAY IN ISLAMORADA... AND ST. PETER CATHOLIC CHURCH... LOCATED AT MILE MARKER 31.3 IN BIG PINE KEY WILL BE OPERATIONAL AS COLD WEATHER SHELTERS WHEN THE TEMPERATURE IS BELOW 50 DEGREES. HOURS OF OPERATION ARE FROM 900 PM TO 700 AM.

As odd as it sounds there are many people with no form of heat in their homes (or boats) and the cold is exacerbated by people not being at all used to it, not having cold weather clothes and the particular nature of the damp air in these marshy islands, which makes it all extra bone numbing. My hope is that we will have a quiet night at work as it will hopefully be too cold for people to go outdoors...It is an ill wind that blows no one any good!

Before The Freeze

"I've got to get out," the lady walking her dog said," before the Big Freeze." Oh, I thought, haven't we had enough already? I do understand the pleasure that one can feel when the heat and humidity of summer is broken by a strong cold front, but rolling around enjoying prolonged temperatures below 70 degrees (21C) merits deportation in my opinion. I had an appointment in town and the idea was to tire Cheyenne out with a long street walk and as we ambled and sniffed I got it into my head there are a lot of small odd things about Key West that keep catching my eye, even after all this time. Perhaps Christmas turtles aren't particular to Key west (there must be a Chinese factory somewhere spewing out these absurdities) but they look odd to my jaundiced eye.
It might have been pre-freeze but Friday morning dawned cold and clear. My feet were cold after I got out of bed and I was sure I should have been able to see my breath as we scooted downstairs to look for the car. Frankly at the moment I'm glad Cheyenne is my excuse not to ride. This rooster was sunk in the dirt and unwilling to leave his snug nest even when the dog rolled on by. That's how cold the locals feel it around here:Someone had hung a pair of skimpy purple panties on a tree in Bill Butler Park. I have come across such trophies while walking in the mangroves and I wonder if it is some new fad I am missing.Orin of Old Skool Scootin of Portland Oregon mentions a campaign to "Keep Portland Weird" and I recall a similar campaign in Santa Cruz, California during my twenty years in that city. I came to the conclusion that by the time such a campaign is underway (and I've seen such bumper stickers in Austin, Texas when we were checking out if we wanted to live there), it's too late. Key West has no need of such a motto as people already work hard to keep things weird and the newcomers have been overwhelmed by the weirdness. This is the time of year the whiny snowbirds fill the Citizen's Voice with complaints about noise, and trash and so forth but the weirdness continues unabated. I find small things much more interesting than the display of forced eccentricity played out for tourists. This aircraft flew overhead when I had my camera out and the combination of salmon pink, aquamarine and flower power graphics struck me as very weird indeed. Perhaps it is just advertising something: So I figured to myself a sign telling people not to trespass is always silly when it's obviously private property. This is the US after all. In England trespassing is not illegal but of course here it is, yet people feel the need to reinforce their fear of trespass with the oddest sense of what's needed. I mean would anyone consider trespassing here if they hadn't put the sign up? "Private Property" and welcome to it I say. This next one is in urgent need of a dumpster, and there were no signs on this yard. perhaps they are hoping someone will trespass if only to take away the refrigerator under the tarp?

I don't know if pink flamingos are odd when found holding up the eaves of a house but that was how these charmers struck me: "The Stumbledoor" - I always feel like I'm missing some obvious cultural allusion when I see stuff like this:Key West continues to be packed with normal people, visitors and their money and sometimes they are more obvious than even they imagine. The rolling suitcase was a dead giveaway in this case, but the flip flops? Damnation:they are on vacation and one wears sandals on one's tropical holiday. Never mind the temperature.I have enjoyed a couple of nights off but when I went out to dinner last night I was reminded work is never very far away. In the middle of the meal a woman at the next door table got up and started yelling for help, as her husband had passed out in his chair. "Anyone know CPR?" I called out hoping against hope. Unfortunately in a restaurant full of people there was only me. Happily he had a pulse, I remembered what to do (training works) and before I had to give him a kiss he started to come round. Rescue was on scene surprisingly quickly and they wheeled him away. It occurred to me that calling the Red Cross or the American Heart Association or asking at your local hospital about CPR classes might be a good thing to do if you haven't already. If I hadn't been there, of a hundred people in the building, there was no one else who knew what to do.

It turned out he was from Quebec and if I'd known that I would have held back and just finished my cheeseburger while it was still hot. (That's a joke. Not sarcasm, okay?).

Cold People

The National Weather service predicts Sunday's night time low for Key West should be 46 degrees (8C). In light of the fact the lowest temperature ever recorded is 41 degrees (5C), this is will be a weekend to be remembered.I was talking about this main subject of conversation and we thought back to the winter of 2002 which i remember as a week of temperatures around 50 degrees (10C), when i rode the bus around town as the scooter froze my bones. The only people we took out sailing was a family from Alaska who thought the weather was summery. Perhaps it is even now, seeing as how flowers still bloom on the streets of Key West:
A powerful fish sandwich and heavy weather clothing will keep patrons comfortable in outdoor seating at Buddy Owen's Fish wagon on Caroline Street:It's the tourists who have so little time in town and find themselves caught in the middle of a prolonged cold spell. This one doesn't appear likely to ease up before Wednesday at the earliest and that's enough time to swallow a whole vacation. So much for shorts and t-shirts in January: Not everyone seems to feel the frigid cold of low temperatures and biting northeast winds. And the sight of a bare knee these days is worth appreciating around Key West: I'm not kidding when I tell you this weather is hard on some people. If you think I'm joking and this secretly feels warm you have no idea how one adapts to warm climates year round. Blood really does thin in response to perpetual heat:

The owner of the coffee shop was congratulating himself on buying the gas heater/blower. He uses it at home where he has no heat at all, but he brought to his Cuban Queen Coffee Shop to help the customers who perforce stand outdoors. I laughed and told him I had figured out my reverse cycle heating system in short order. The sky hasn't been completely blue either which lends a slightly menacing air to the day. Another cold front is expected this weekend bringing a chance of rain and absolutely no let up in the cold.

It may seem odd to see people riding scooters and bicycles in bare hands but not everyone has gloves. And not everyone that has gloves can find them.Sometimes, when you lack proper cold weather gear the best thing to do is smoke a cigarette and just look cool, rather than cold.

The idea that the Key West sun may be harmful is hard to let go, even when your ears are burning from the cold:
I have to be honest; the idea of taking a tour is to me anathema just at the moment. I have forced myself to commute by Bonneville the past couple of nights when my wife was home to take care of the dog, but it is a cold joy to be riding once again. The engine takes forever to warm up properly and I wonder what people who routinely ride in colder temperatures do. I remember in my callow youth being cold a lot of the time, but the fun of the chill is not as acute at age 52.Ooh, look! A scarf! I think that's what that is...

Bloody tourists showing off their lily white knees and enjoying the cold.

And what, I ask you, is the point of a padded jacket that has no sleeves? This guy at least has an excuse- he's working:

For women a cold snap is an opportunity to show off some real winter wear, like fuzzy boots and jackets and stuff:And hoodies ( the Harley in the background is purely a coincidence). Churches have been opening their doors to people who need help, and that's not just for homeless people but for people without heat- including homeowners and people who live on boats. I have lots of unhappy memories of cold nights on a boat, and the blessing of 110 volt electricity is not to be overestimated when the nights are cold. Fireplaces are as rare as hen's teeth in Key West. You are more likely to find flames ...on a jeep?

It's too cold for me to think about lighting up my outdoor fire pit, I'd burn one side of me and freeze the other sitting around a fire. However some demented wastrel was running an outdoor fan on their porch:

When the sun did put in a timid appearance it was a pleasant scene to ride a bike through, even though when I got back to the car the temperature gauge read 57 degrees (14C) at 2:30 pm.

The equator is about where I'd like to be right now, sweating like an honest tropical dweller:

I found bitter irony in this Portuguese (or Brazilian) named home. "House of the Sun" indeed! This dude had it figured out, a hat under a helmet, heavy gloves, sweat suit, socks and a big shaggy sheepskin on the saddle to keep his bum warm:

This lady on Summerland Key had it all color coordinated too. She must be prepared for cold snaps:There are a few hard core riders still out on the Overseas Highway (Notice everyone wearing a snug warm helmet? Those lids have a purpose after all!):

So what is the well dressed Labrador wearing this cold winter season? A snug fur coat of course, all enveloping, with a color coordinated green nylon collar and a nice purple and yellow pair of id and rabies tags to set off the ensemble.
And a great big shit eating grin as these temperatures are what Labradors live for.

DuPont Lane

Key West managed somehow to elect a black Sheriff in 1889 and his name was Charles Fletcher Dupont, the son of freed slaves. He has a lane named for him east of Duval off Petronia Street.

DuPont wasn't the first black Sheriff of Monroe County, that was James A Roberts who was appointed in 1877 and the first lawman killed in the line of duty in the county was also black as it happens, a Sheriff's deputy called Frank Adams was shot to death while trying to effect an arrest in the city in 1902. You'll hear his name come up at the head of the mercifully short roll of officers who have died every time there is a memorial service in their memory.
The entrance to this very short lane is marked by this rather startlingly imposing wrought iron fence. The lane itself is short, but half a block long though unusually for these kinds of streets in Key West it has an ample turn around at the dead end. It is lined with plush mansions:

And at the dead end it makes a sharp turn into this tunnel like walkway.
The fence is so high that I felt like I was in a cave looking out at the sky:
And seeing hurricane shutters still up, blocking out the sparkling winter sun:

These are my favorite Key West colors, white and green and sky blue:

A carpenter was busy improving some already magnificent home, his workshop was outdoors though his concession to the season was a sweat shirt:

"Good fences make good neighbors" is an ironic quotation frequently attributed to the poet Robert Frost (whom the hospitality industry make great play of as a winter visitor to Key West) and on DuPont Lane they do certainly make the little street rather more blank and uninteresting than others of it's type.This example of over sized, protective picket fence was staffed by two extremely yappy little dogs who stuck their obnoxious snouts between the pickets and dared Cheyenne to approach. She ignored them, reminding me once again that the prejudice against silent, easy going big dogs, and in favor of noisy small brats is arbitrary and misplaced.
This picture I took looking east along Petronia toward Simonton, a much more varied neighborhood street than DuPont.
And this night picture of DuPont I used in my post New Year's Eve essay contrasting the peace and quiet of the lane to the trashed nature of Duval street the morning after.
There is a very complete article with photos at this website if you want to see and learn more about Charles DuPont:
http://thenewtimesholler.com/ARCHIVE/chaldupont.html