Another Splendid New Day

It's been a quiet week in the Lower Keys, the community that time forgot and the decades cannot improve.

We have survived the holidays and next week my wife goes back to work and as time passes so the days get longer. Not by much around here until summer time starts but a little at a time it gets lighter earlier when Cheyenne and I take our morning constitutional.

New Years Eve was busy, work was crazy so I hope that the town made money.

I have the next few days off, my wife wants to go out of town before she has to dig in and deal with her students for foreseeable future.

The car is field and ready to go, dog food in the trunk and clean clothes packed.

So I have decided to take a few days off and start the year with some pictures without words.

Cheyenne will be in the back of the car happy to be involved, but not much liking the travel. Between now and Monday I'll post some pictures of my home town and on Monday I'll have a few thoughts to share as usual.

 

 

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That Hemingway Fascination

I am forced to wonder at myself from time to time. Walking Cheyenne up Olivia Street I was quite surprised to see a crowd of people on the corner of Whitehead Street. Silly me, it's one of the biggest attractions in Key West.

Of corse I have visited from time to time because I do want to see what people come to see, even though I am not a huge fan of Hemingway's writing style, as spare as it is.

His home is also a slice of Key West history, this is how the wealthy lived in the twenties and his life is preserved. That his favorite home is in Cuba, also recorded on this web page if you search Finca Vigia doesn't detract from the historical value of this home.

It's a popular place and it never ceases to amaze me that this historic home is privately owned. In Europe where I grew up public places lie this with national significance would be owned by the state and held in trust for the people. That this is now a money making operation strikes me as a little weird.

The cats are always an issue in a town where neighbors have a hard time getting along. Supposedly the cats are descendants of Hemingway's felines and by means of the all-American lawsuit neighbors who hate the cats have managed to get the might of the Federal government involved in overseeing the animals. A federal judge ruled they are the equivalent of commercial bovines and need to be overseen as farm animals by the US Department of Agriculture! Strange neighbors indeed.

There's lots to see inside the gardens which cost a few dollars to enter but is not apparently entirely worth it for everyone. A quick peek is enough, whichnis how some people view Key West in its entirety, a small town, worth a quick view, no more.

Cheyenne likes the deeper longer inspection of her surroundings and she never seems to tire of walking city streets. It's not every dog that gets to sniff the famous Hemingway brick wall (which wasn't here when he was) and I doubt most dogs care.

I try not to get supercilious about the attractions that draw others to town. It is after all home to a writer who won the Nobel Prize. No small thing that, and there are tons of visitors to show it is an interesting thing, even if it isn't a properly registered National Monument.

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A New Key West

Not really. Same old, same old and the same old blog in a new year.

I have noticed quite a few blogs that I have followed fallen by the wayside in the past year. if you check my list of motoblogs they are stalling. Possibly it has to do with the season, for winter is not riding season Up North. This time last year I tried a blogging experiment working with Chuck and pretty soon I knew it wasn't going to work. He started a new business and I felt burdened by solitude in a blog that was supposed to be joint effort. I went back to doing what I like, for myself. Jack Riepe calls this the Seinfeld of blogs, an ongoing story about nothing much, interspersed with pictures. So be it.

Key West has narrow streets, cluttered with bicycles and winter people. Key West streets are irrational, littered with silly signs and angry privacy signs, unlike most cities in this continent dedicated to newness. My blog is dedicated to noticing this sort of stuff.

I have almost three thousand essays in this blog and only a few of them lost their pictures in my recent picasa fiasco when I accidentally erased a collection of pictures. Enter a word in the search function and who knows what might appear. For me this blog is a diary as certain essays trigger certain memories, for everyone else these pictures are whatever you want. I do not anticipate any change over the course of the year.

I am not sure how I got this far, nor do I recall precisely how I decide what to write about. I saw yesterday's picture while my wife bought a bottle of champagne, she watched me take the picture and I knew she was wondering what I saw. I saw yesterday's postcard. How? I haven't a clue, it's just there in my head.

I see a couch in a trailer and the possibilities for Monty Python style comedy seem endless. I see an absurdly slow speed limit and I am reminded it is the rule now across Old Town. Why can't people pay attention when they drive?

I am not dedicated to selling Key West, I am not an arm of the Chamber of Commerce, I earn my living elsewhere. I dumped the stupid advertising on this page. I write about good and bad, I try to use common sense as my guide and though I am frequently impatient I hope I among cruel. I am unwilling to dumb my page down, I don't write to a third grade level, this isn't a newspaper. It's a slice of my very modest life.

A reader sends me notices from time to time that a blog called KEYWEST--THECONCHDIARY.COM has published a new page which happens infrequently but I read each one and wonder. It's generally a page of lists and rhetorical questions mocking victims frequently sourced in the newspaper. Aside from the unfortunate similarity between the title of the blogs, and mine has been around since June 2007, I find it odd that anyone purporting to live in Key West can't find anything original or kind to say about this extraordinary town. Read it and see for yourself.

I live a pretty regular life in a town where irregularity is the order of the day. I'm not a party goer and I dislike costumes and disguises. I have been accused of being gay from time to time, as though being gay is a bad thing. I can only say there is room in Key West and the Lower Keys for a few of us who are neither dipsomaniacs nor gay. Some of us just live here and of us all only a few have words and pictures on a web page. Doug Bennett comes to mind, This Week on the Island . Doug has something to say each week without fail and has at last decided to add pictures. Check it out. I have a long list of Keys related blogs on its own page. These are just the worst and the best.

I like living here on my terms and writing on my terms. I have that to look forward to in the new year, and so do you.

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Happy New Year

 

 

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New Year's Eve

My world closes down between Christmas and New Year and this used to be the time of year I envied the Cubans whose government decided Christmas was a Papal conspiracy not worth celebrating. These days Cuba has gone the way of the rest of us and Santa Claus relief has been suspended more or less officially on the tropical island. So I get through it and my reward comes in a couple of days. As of Wednesday life returns to normal, or as normal as circumstances permit.

The biggest shake up for me has been that my work schedule has been turned upside down, and though it may not be immediately apparent, I like my routines. I have been working the same shift for years and as complicated as my peculiar schedule is to explain, it is also entirely predictable. Want to know if I'm off on my patronymic feast day, September 29th? Give me a moment and I can figure it out. The past couple of weeks my hours have been so whacky I actually had to photocopy the schedule at work to keep track of when I was supposed to show up. Well bugger me. On the other hand I can't really complain because people who care for St Nick need to take their vacations. I hope they enjoyed the snowdrifts amidst their family gatherings because I worked my ass off for them. Very bad for my OCD, but I like the brownie points of working holidays!

I have not been downtown for New Year's Eve in years, and the last time I was there was in the boom years when crowds were huge and the crush overwhelmed me. As a result I have never much minded missing the various items being dropped, New York style to mark the New Year moment of marketing. I am one of those dweebs happy to go to bed when I get tired and miss the magic moment while passed out. As it is I usually have to work as I shall be working tonight.

There are two holidays in the Key West calendar that trump leave at the police department - Fantasy Fest is one, it has to be as that whole week is law enforcement busy and the other is New Years Eve when South Florida pours into the smallest town and expects a show. Not every Florida town, you may be astonished to learn chooses to drop a drag queen in a shoe to mark the midnight moment. I will be sitting at my desk hoping anxiously that all five police computers turn over with the new date at pumpkin hour. One memorable year they didn't and everything had to be operated by hand until the Internet technology wizards straightened out the sleepy binary machines. This past year we In dispatch have issued nearly seven thousand case numbers, and as of midnight the computers will I hope, remember to start back at number one for 2013. That's my big worry.

Worrying about case numbers is a little esoteric for New Year's Eve I grant you when most people are wondering where the best parties might be and have they been invited but Key West has to function in order to give the monied visitors the carefree visit. Housekeepers and valets and hotel managers are all doing the same as Key West's facade as a laid back town that time forgot can never actually descend to such a level. You should hear the bitching on 911 lines when the power goes out at three in the morning. People call us to ask when the power will be back! I am tempted to say something absurd like "at 4:31am precisely" to get them off the line but a shortage of electrons in the middle of the night is only a crisis if you depend on them to breathe. Everyone else can take a chill pill, but they don't. You'd think their vacation was ruined by a two hour outage at three in the morning when some drunk driver hit a power pole...So much for laid back. Key West must function at all times like a first world city pretending to be funky.

This time of year more than ever I need to walk Cheyenne in the back woods and she cooperated mighty well when we took off around Spain Boulevard on Cudjoe Key for an hour yesterday. I like this subdivision for its totally rural feel, horses and dirt roads and thick grassy fields and verges, it's like finding yourself in a backwoods village in the mountains instead of feeling surrounded by salt water, which is what you are.

The homes are just off Blimp Road and make a handy place to stroll while waiting for my wife at the nearby gym. For some reason Cheyenne is less than thrilled with this area some rarely get out here but her five day absence has sharpened her appreciation for any and all walks close to home.

As always other people's bunches give me banana envy. These used to be surrounded by an electric fence, perhaps to keep the deer out but they looked splendid and put my still fruitless bananas to shame. Next year perhaps.

Lobster pots are a reminder that the sea is never far away, even in the bushes.

One thing about this area is the consumption of couches. Every time I get out here someone has another worn out couch waiting for pick up. I found two on this walk, a record. When I replace my worn out couch I shall deliver it directly to the dump, which is very close by these homes actually, and I promise I shall not leave it curbside.

I do not miss snow or blizzards, sleet or heavy chilly rain.

Weak winter sun perks Cheyenne up and as long as skies are blue I can live with cooler temperatures and occasional cold feet.

it was warm enough to tire Cheyenne out even though the cold front fought hill overnight temperatures.

I don't suppose much will change with the flip of a calendar page tonight. Politicians play brinkmanship with the economy, cheap energy remains as elusive as ever despite fracking and posturing, and if the parents of America take no interest in protecting their children from gun nutters I am happy to stay on the sidelines of that ferocious non-debate. I expect 2013 will bring more of the same, political posturing and bad economic news from Europe, more shootings and hand wringing, dope smoking tours of Colorado, more poofs getting married and about time, and most important of all stiffer joints on my aging dog and experimental rides with my new/old antique two stroke Vespa.

I just wish the holidays would be over so it could get delivered here, perhaps even before my inert Bonneville gets the much longed for new valves.

Happy New Year.

 

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Horse Country

That part of Florida more commonly known for it's horses is around Ocala in the north-central part of the Sunshine State. Take Highway 27 west from Ocala and you will think you are in Kentucky, all fields, white wooden fencing and woods sprinkled with horse ranches. The Keys are not most people's idea of a place to keep or ride a horse. But some people prefer to defy stereotype:

The Key West Police Department used to keep their horses here where there have been stables for what seems forever but then they built the "new" stables at Truman Waterfront. I guess winter residents like to bring their horses with them and I suppose the animals enjoy escaping snow as well and even though the rides around here are limited there are trails. Yet I've never seen anyone riding on the backwoods trails I have walked.

The green fence is new and I suppose annoying people are in the habit of feeding the horses. I am not that organized nor do I have the inclination to walk around with carrots or sugarlumps in my pockets but I did enjoy scratching their ears and reviving memories of my youth when my sisters kept horses and took me riding, experiences which never quite matched up to the pleasure I got from inanimate motorcycles.

Nowadays all I can do is look across two rows of fences. I miss the feel and the smell of them, a momentary trip out of the Keys to a more rural past.

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