Seafront

We have had lots of stormy weather this summer, lots of puddles and sudden showers so no surprise during a dry spell to see people out with bicycles at Smathers Beach.

A half sunk sailboat was in the news and the owner confessed he had no money to get it out of the shallows so there it was as I walked the seawall: 

 Overcast skies and the brick walls of the East Martello Tower:

Looking west round the curve in the road caused by the 19th century fortification:

I was playing with a new app I got for my iPhone called color splurge, make only what you want in color with everything else in monochrome:

 And back home Rusty wasn't invited to come to work with me. Good dog:

Grinnell Street Pocket Park

The pocket parks developed around Key West have been a brilliant and successful innovation. In a own where living space tends to be cramped for most people the plan to turn former electrical utility power transformers into green spaces has worked beautifully.

This one is just up the street from Five Brothers Grocery which makes this a great spot for a picnic alongside the peace and quiet of the cemetery.

 There is seating available:

 And lots of shade that has grown up over the past half dozen years.

 It wasn't always a shady lawn that we see today which gave Rusty a break from the sun:

In Cheyenne's time the trees were much weedier and looked unlikely to become the canopy they are today. My Labrador was not much impressed by the place:

 I do remember the Charest-Weinberg art gallery on Upper Duval but I guess this is all that's left:

 There's no lack of trees no at Grinnell and Angela:

Urban Rusty

Mangoes Restaurant is a mess but signs are promising to get the place fixed up and reopened soon. Part of a lot of construction activity currently underway around Key West. 

Duval Street looking empty early in the morning. Rusty likes checking everything out and can make the crawl a very protracted affair for me.

 Sometimes as I wait for him to complete his inspection I get to see some odd or memorable stuff. I was left to ponder who or why anyone would stick used chewing gum to a tree. People are not only inconsiderate but also rather gross. And unfathomable. 

 The inability of people in Key West to grasp the fundamentals of recycling amazes me. Not going to rant though. No rant.

This building used to be the office of the Secretary General of the Conch Republic, the brilliant business operated by the later Peter Anderson. I always admired his ability to create a living out of a myth but he is dead and now the building is a consignment store. Sic transit gloria mundi. 

 And across the street the new fire station is resplendent next to the city parking lot. It also has rather clean toilets for public use, in the back. Worth knowing. 

Rusty was on the look out again. I think this time it was a large dog that had his rapt attention. 

 But in the same way not everyone is delighted to see him as he strolls by:

Everything gets an inspection. Some things are worthy of profound attention, apparently: 

And then he sits and contemplates the world going by:

I am really excessively fond of this dog.

Ballot Box Barbarians

As is the way in Key West the least little thing gets people all worked up and ready to argue. This year as we start the run up to Fantasy Fest, which takes place at the end of October, the theme has got the peanut gallery riled up.

How could you use a political theme this year of all years? the fearful wring their hands piteously. Well, it is an election year, the weirdest of election years so it seems to me the theme meets all criteria. Weird behavior, weird party, weird voters, weird all round. Yet the negative nellies fear the "political theme" will set off festival goers. It's always something to complain about.

One of my preferred rants is against people who use nasty plastic hardware signs to adorn their expensive old Key West homes. Blue Heaven above did it right, as did the homeowner below with color coordinated signs: 

I thought the store window was just a tad hopeful so I should complain about that: "save the world" indeed!

And the menu on the  wall at Johnson's Grocery ("coldest beer in Key West") looked odd to me. Prices include taxes the notice says. But...there aren't any p;rices!

 Perhaps the menu needs refreshing as the prices, subject to change as they are, need to be restored. 

 Fantasy Fest is another expression of that state of mind expressed by the flag. From Wikimedia:

According to Claude D. Valdez, the designer of the Conch Republic flag, the flag's construction and intended symbolism are as follows:

"The Background is a rich blue (for the blue skies of Key West); in the center is a pink conch shell (natives) upon a yellow sun with a flaming corolla (the sun always shines in Key West). Two constellations of stars are also part of the make up. In the upper right-hand corner is the date 1828, when the city of Key West and Monroe County were incorporated, and the five stars of the constellation Cygnus, the swan, which is also called the Northern Cross. The Northern Cross was chosen because it is a well recognized sky guide, shining where the Milky Way splits into parallel streams. In the lower left-hand corner of the flag are four more stars: the constellation of the Southern Cross. It can be seen from Key West at certain times of the year and is located at 60° south; it is six degrees long and points to the South Pole. Because the cross as a symbol is used by may religions, both the Northern and Southern Crosses on the flag acknowledge thankfulness to our Maker for the many blessings bestowed upon this island."

 I liked this garden decoration...Got an old fence? An old flag? Use one on the other. Brilliant!

I have to confess that as the fund raising begins and the Fantasy Fest hullabaloo starts to impinge on local consciousness my own qualms about this week long event come to the surface. On the one hand it is rather pleasant to have a local festival that blocks out the rest of the world to some large degree, but on the other its not a gathering that brings out the best in people. To stand on the sidelines and watch has rather the same effect as being a helpless observer at a train wreck of local good taste.

Like so many things in overly expensive Key West, Fantasy Fest is no longer the venue, if it ever was, of young people and there is some reluctance one finds, to embrace the slackening of good taste by people old enough to know better. To see a 25 year old drunk and disorderly in provocative costume is to see the world as it turns; to see a Mid Western grandmother in the same predicament is to wonder what Fantasy Fest is really about. Yet one cannot avert one's eyes completely.

I was amused in the photo above to see a candidate seeking support from an abandoned house. Apparently Trish Docherty Gibson, she of the red signs, has wrapped up this corner of Bahama Village- her signs are everywhere. She is the successor chosen by outgoing Public Defender Rosemary Enright who is retiring after almost three decades, though another attorney in that office, a new arrival is challenging the succession.

I saw this elaborate though not apparently too effective bicycle chain lock, above, and wondered if it will be enough to keep Fantasy Fest inebriates out of the front yard.

I like the bright blue color of the public housing. If I were to live there I'd prefer central air, and after this summer who wouldn't? But the paint work looks good.

El Mocho, Stock Island

I confess I was surprised when I recently visited my favorite diner and found all sorts of strangely out of place upgrades, if you can call them that, at El Mocho. Right up front the door has writing on it! With a seagull motif! Very cool.

We got a bilingual menu, though I was pleased to see there was still a  whiteboard on the wall with some extra dishes scribbled on in faded ink.  Oh and check out the credit card logos. That's new.

I took this rather crappy picture of the extension with a new dining room and not one but two televisions hanging off the wall. I hate eating with television glaring down on me so the original dining area suits me better. You can also see the whiteboard in this dreadful picture I snapped: 

Some things don't change. My wife got half a sugar in her con leche which I think is a gringo affectation, but the boss lady didn't bat an eye at this minimalist sugar order. I asked for a more robust one full spoonful of sugar with my coffee where a proper Cuban would get half a dozen. Styrofoam still rules even though it is destructive and non recyclable.

The decor is less personal now with artwork of the tropical flavor you can buy anywhere. They used to have  photos and notes of appreciation from the flyers at Boca Chica, but I think the future of El Mocho is going to be like that of El Siboney in Key West, catering "authenticity" to wealthy incomers. It's all part of the gentrification.

 Breakfast hasn't changed and it's still less than five bucks for the basic. Grits were off as we were early, among the first arrivals so we had to settle for the pre-formed hash browns. I really like the hot buttered Cuban bread with the extra thick curly bacon and the perfectly fried eggs. It is an indulgence and is thus delightful in its simplicity and lack of pretension.

 The conversation was in the usual mixture of Spanglish, an easy flow into and out of English as they discussed the weather and fishing and their neighbors.

 The bathrooms have gotten spruced up and that's always a big deal in middle America. El Mocho is ready for the New Stock Island!

I shall have to come back on a Friday for lunch:

Christmas Decorations

From December 2012. It has been six months since Cheyenne died, and as much as I love Rusty and am glad to have him in my life I do miss Cheyenne from time to time. I am also missing the cool sunny days of winter so this weekend I decided to report an essay that covers both.

The light changes in winter, the sun sets lower on the horizon, more onwards the southern hemisphere where they are enjoying mid summer while we get the joys of winter up here. As close as Key West is to the equator the length of the days remains fairly even by nature, except that the time change each summer lengthens the summer days considerably, slightly distorting nature's plan.

As a result in summer it gets dark close to nine pm while here and now it gets dark just before six in the evening and with the sun lower on the horizon the light shines lower in the sky, especially in the evening. Which gives these pictures, taken before dusk a particular lighting effect. The colors are muted and the typical strong whites and lues and greens of Key West take on a pale shade of foggy light. Cheyenne was just happy to be out and about and not suffocating in summer's muggy heat.

It may not be summer's muggy heat but it's still warm enough for shirt sleeves most evenings, temperatures in the low seventies and cool dry air blowing off the ocean. Cheyenne likes it a lot and I do too. This is the time of year snowbound Northeners yearn for Key West if they are allergic to ice anywhere outside a cocktail glass.

I photographed the citrus fruit laid out on the railing above, and Cheyenne contemplating her future below, both pictures on Catholic Lane, so called because it butts up against the Catholic section of the sheer hated cemetery. It always strikes me as odd that in death some people need to be buried in their own sections of the burial ground.

Around the corner looking west on Angela Street into the sun I saw a typical Key West street scene, companionable cycling. Cycling as a way of urban life, and te riders aren't dressed for blizzard conditions either.

The dogs were out as we tried north on Margaret Street. Angela becomes Carey Lane and Molly was poking around minding her own business when Cheyenne came lumbering along.

While the dogs sniffed each other, a very animal yet civilized way to make an introduction, I peered up Carey Lane which is actually an extension of Anglea Street, renamed fro some obscure reason.

this nice lady was looking after her daughter's dog, Oliver the Terrorist who tried to scare Cheyenne who ignored him as usual and kept walking toward Carsten Lane, the street that connects Margaret to William.

Cheyenne was of a mind to follow the terrorist and his minded down Carsten but I was aiming at the car in the other direction. We tussled and eventually my dog yielded.

She got her reward at Michael's Restaurant where they weren't handing out volcanoes for dessert but they were handing out dog cookies. That was nice for Cheyenne but hell for me as I had the devil's own job separating Cheyenne from the cookie jar. It was all stop and start on this sunset walk.

My reward came at Finnegan's Wake after I poured Cheyenne onto her bed in the back seat of the car and settled down with my wife and a pint of Boddington's.

Christmas decorations had gone up on James Street I noticed. I played with my camera a bit which went all artistic on me. I liked the effect.