Votes, Visitors and Fernet Branca

The election on Tuesday brought some changes to the Florida Keys political landscape but one has to wonder how on earth a South Florida modest House of Representatives race could have been worth 14 million dollars. That's how much the campaign cost between the victor Carlos Curbelo, Republican, and outgoing Democrat Joe Garcia who was completing his very first two year term in office. This picture below lloks like a political hoarding but it's just the parking lady meditating in her chair with her sign encouraging people to use the Steve Walker parking lot. She sits there all winter and smiles as you pass by:

Because the Keys are contrarians in so many things, in this case a majority of voters here backed the scandal plagued Garcia, whose defiantly idiotic first and only term was described thusly in the Miami Herald:

Garcia’s term was clouded by the conviction of his former chief of staff, who served 65 days in jail for orchestrating an unlawful online absentee-ballot request scheme in the 2012 election. The congressman’s 2010 campaign is under federal criminal investigation over a suspected straw candidate.

Still, Garcia said Tuesday he was proud of his tenure.

“There is nothing that I didn’t get to do while I was serving in Congress, except be in the majority,” he said. “I wish we could have had a different outcome. But that’s the only thing I’d change. There is nothing to regret with a job well done.”

He blamed his loss on “savage” outside spending in the race by conservative political groups.

Read more here: http://www.miamiherald.com/news/local/community/miami-dade/article3569095.html#storylink=cpy

You have to wonder how these politicians we elect cannot bring themselves to say they are sorry they screwed us over. At least that. But no, they are all proud and feel they accomplished stuff etc etc...No wonder only half the elegible voters turned out. Voting seems to mean less and less when your choices are between one doofus and another. Curbelo is an advertising hack and friend swith the Diaz Balart family of South Florida- the in-laws of Fidel Castro and die hard promoters of the stupid embargo which they view as a justifiable family feud. I cannot conceive that Curbelo will shock us with his pragmatism. I wonder what it would be like if we could have proportional representation and break the backs of the two big monopolistic parties. How cool that would be. And impossible.

Instead we look around, we ordinary people and we see the tourists lining up to enjoy our fair city, crossing Clinton Square in childlike crocodile lines. Or we cross Mallory Square on a breezy sunny afternoon and we spot a wiry athlete strengthening her core muscles in public closely observed by the flabby inert bundles of homelessness that inhabit this place. Key West: contrast and compare.

My dog, my love, brought back to energetic life by the cold weather has been criss crossing the city like a puppy, nose down and speed walking. Seen here heading toward El Meson de Pepe.

And then I saw this bicycle decorated in a rather peculiar manner. I once drank a quantity of Fernet after an excessively large lunch when I was a teenager. I have never forgotten the effect of that ghastly fermented herb liquid on my digestive tract. I cannot now look at the name without remembering vividly and tastelessly my introduction to projectile vomiting. Just seeing the name of that foul Italian digestive drink gives me shudders.

Well, that will take a man's mind off the irritations of voting in a broken political system. Money talks and votes whisper and Fernet Branca still sucks, after all these years.

 

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The Duval Circus

To be in Key West at the moment is to enjoy the city before the mad winter rush which the first snowfall Up North brings, but it is also to enjoy perfect weather and a modicum of activity. A stroll along Lower Duval ( the North end of the street paradoxically) puts one in the middle of a lot of people, and their golf carts.

Duval Street is an odd mixture of people, tourists, locals working and locals simply existing on fumes as it were:

 Drinks aren't cheap here but you can get ring side seats to the circus, sitting out in 75 degree air with a cool breeze.

 Want to see a parrot? Got those:

 It seems  a waste to pay for food, eat it all fresco, and have your back to the madhouse parading by.  It's not really a mad house, its just a mixture of people shuffling past your back. You never know  what you might see.

I retreated to pause on White Street, heading for work, and got myself a colada which is several hot strong sweet  Cuban espressos (bucchi)  in one plastic  cup. Sandy's like most Cuban coffee shops will give you a colada along with several thimble sized cups to share the drink. "I'm not sharing," I told the barrista and he laughed at me as I returned the spare cups and got stuck into my caffeine overdose. I sat and stared at the Bonneville and drank coffee and hoped for an energy boost for the long night ahead.

The circus on Duval would have to continue into the darkness without me.

Cocoplum Beach

I did my bit, but I might as well not have bothered. My fellow Floridians chose to re-elect the HCA Medicare billing fraud king as governor of the Sunshine State. And his homophobe side kick for Attorney General. And medical marijuana failed to pass.

Instead I went to the beach in Marathon. And lovely it was too. Warm on the face, cool breeze on the back and lots of sunshine. What's not to love about Florida? The politics? Oh well....

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Bahama Village

When my wife was a juvenile probation officer a dozen or more years ago she was warned against working alone in the Village, a warning she steadfastly ignored, riding her purple scooter hither and yon checking up on "her kids" and their welfare. In a world that thrives on making us afraid she was always greeted cheerfully and respectfully by her young charges on the streets.

Bahama Village has survived and sometimes even thrived in a Key West that prides itself on tolerance in a world not given to that most Christian of sentiments. The oldest Jewish synagogue in Florida was founded here; there is a masjid in this tiny out post of civilization, churches are everywhere cheek by jowl praising their many and various gods alongside people like me who see only oblivion ahead...

Bahama Village is a modern monument to community cohesion and the maintenance of identity in the face of the invasion of money that has swept up Key West in one more cycle of boom in this boom and bust town.

The gay community has shrunk somewhat in the face of gentrification and more widespread acceptance across the land. Key West's Cuban community remains numerous and visible. The African American world tucked away west of a Duval Street is not going anywhere.

Key West's connections to the Bahamas are as old and as direct as those to the island if Cuba. The influential Spottswood family, came to Key West but are descended in part from ancestors in the Bahamas.

The name Albury is celebrated in Abaco with a reputation as a world class boatbuilder. And the African American roots extend to the Family Islands just as deeply.

Bahama Village is not strictly speaking a separate entity and it's boundaries are not marked but it is it's own delightful walk in a town filled with picturesque streets.

I walk here by day and by night and I have never been bothered by anyone.

It's like every other part of Key West where change seems constant and inevitable, yet the community behind the shifting businesses and refurbished homes seems constant to an outsider.

The formerly chaotic and open and welcoming Chapman residence is shut down by a series of events reported in the Blue Paper:

Bahama Village will, I trust, abide and he still out and about in his one man lighted musical parade from time to time.

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Airborne Stupidity

Stupidity is airborne in Florida, by Diane Roberts.

Diane Roberts: Epidemic freaks me out; what if stupidity is airborne?

From Context Florida

I don’t know about you, but this latest epidemic is really freaking me out. The experts say it’s hard to catch — you can’t get it merely by living in the same state as infected people or being exposed to toxic campaign ads.

But what if they’re wrong? What if stupidity is airborne?

Everywhere you look there’s a new outbreak. Rick Scott, asked what the minimum wage should be, said, “How should I know?” Doesn’t “the private sector” decide all that?

Er, pro tip, Mr. Scott? The government sets the minimum wage. It’s written down in a law and stuff. Perhaps one of your staff can explain.

Then there’s Attorney General Pam Bondi, fighting fiercely to protect the God-sanctioned institution of marriage from those sinister gays. She says children should be “born to and raised by the mothers and fathers who produced them in stable and enduring family units.”

Bondi’s been divorced twice herself. Straight divorce, of course, the kind God favors: she’s currently fighting the attempt of a lesbian couple who contracted a civil union in Vermont in 2002 to split legally.

At least we’re clear on where the AG stands on marriage equality, however backward and idiotic. Not the governor. Rick Scott says he:

Supports “traditional” marriage

Is against “discrimination”

Isn’t a scientist.

Contact with extreme stupidity can lead to panic. The mayor and city commission of South Miami, exasperated by the governor’s inability to grasp the obvious and extremely damp reality of global climate change, have voted to secede from the rest of the state.

No matter how often streets in South Florida flood, no matter how much sea water gets into the aquifer, Rick Scott doesn’t get it. Hallandale Beach had to shut down six of its eight wells. The water’s salt.

But at least nobody’s getting gay married in Hallandale Beach.

In 2013, Scott and that gaggle of imbeciles known as the Florida Legislature tossed out the state’s small but significant program to deal with climate change, probably because Charlie Crist championed it.

The state’s surrounded on three sides by ocean; 2.4 million people live within four feet of the local high tide line in Florida. If the sea rises just a few inches — and it will — their houses are gone. People with 30-year mortgages will find themselves under water in a whole new way. And one good hurricane? Bye-bye Miami, Fort Lauderdale, Tampa.

Naples, too. Rick Scott owns an $11 million mansion there, right on the beach, one foot above sea level. When the Tampa Bay Times asked if he was worried, Scott said, “No. I’m not a scientist, but I can tell you what, we’re going to make sure we continue to make the right investments in the state to take care of our environment.”

Nope, definitely not a scientist, though he finally met some scientists who wanted to talk about climate change. Of the half-hour he granted them, he spent 15 minutes asking what kind of jobs their students get after graduation.

South Floridians blame North Florida for this infestation of ignorance, and given that the state capital is represented in Congress by a man of awe-inspiring, even proud, stupidity, I take their point. Steve Southerland don’t hold with that global warming and anyway, Jesus’ll fix it.

Southerland’s district has a lot of Gulf coastline and the state’s most productive estuary. Nevertheless, he wants to gut the Clean Water Act. He represents a lot of impoverished people, but wants to cut food stamps. He voted against the Violence Against Women Act, claiming, “it came straight from the Senate, was thrown on the floor,” and he didn’t have time to read it.

Two weeks elapsed between passage of the Senate bill and its appearance in the House. Maybe there were too many big words?

I should point out that Rep. Southerland is an undertaker by profession. He actually profits from death.

Speaking of death, Rick Scott now declares he’ll Protect Us From Ebola. Word is there are four, four!, people in the state whom the Centers for Disease Control say may have been somewhere near Ebola-land.

Of course, you have a better chance of being eaten by a panther, throwing a touchdown pass in the FSU-Florida game, or marrying Donald Trump than catching Ebola. But don’t let knowledge and reason stand in the way of a good, dim-witted panic, y’all. No doubt Pam Bondi will insist she’s cracking down on Ebola mills, Steve Southerland will suggest we build a wall around Africa, and the Republican National Committee will buy up airtime to explain how the whole thing is all Charlie Crist’s fault.

Meanwhile, the sea rises. And rises. And rises.

Diane Roberts lives in Tallahassee and has been heard on NPR. Column courtesy of Context Florida and Eye On Miami.

Nostalgia

From Richard Holt's Blog: 

...all except the bit about the soap in the mouth. I was a very well spoken child usually. And I do need roads like these from time to time: