Wood and Brick

Summer seems to be here, after a much prolonged cool season with strong winds and chilly nighttime breezes. I'm not sure how much time Rusty will be wanting to spend outdoors midday for the next few months but I took him downtown early in the morning on Monday.We hadn't been to Key West together ina while and I like getting up early after my nights off.

I was looking at the typical wooden homes of Key West, picturesque and pretty, like Chuck's old home shown below with the decorative bicycle his daughter painted. I believe he lives in the Sierra Nevada mountains now in California these days and I can't imagine more of a contrast. For someone who likes living in Old Town this would be a good spot, a lovely wooden home, quiet neighborhood but close to the action.

The city has been setting up a bold new bicycling program to get more people out of cars and the program is being received rather coldly by the citizenry in a  town where parking is at a premium and streets are narrow. Part of the program is to clear racks and sidewalks of abandoned bicycles. I think that part seems to be working. I never knew the racks outside Eden House on Fleming were owned by the guesthouse. I thought the inscription was rather cool: 

You  might think Key West could find a better way to build than with wood. This picture from the web shows Duval Street after the  October 11th 1909 hurricane, before they were named,  and the damage to wooden buildings.

There are some brick structures in Key West but bricks are heavy and expensive to ship. Some bricks did come out of ships where they used them for ballast but for most people homes had to be built out of wood which was cheaper.

 Nevertheless there are some brick buildings to be found if you look around...

The more usual adornment on the wooden homes, built from  ships' timbers they say was the deck at the top, the widow's walk where wives hoping not to become widows could look for their husband's returning ship.

Nowadays they seem blisteringly impractical under a blazing sun. A long way up to carry a tray of drinks.And if you want to know the status of ships there are better ways than looking for them, oddly enough.

Going Boating

For some reason I've been watching boats and I've enjoyed it.

 Some while I've been out myself.

 Highway One bridge, not much clearance:

 I find driving power boats to be inherently boring- aim and go leaves little room for finesse:

 The lifts are quite the thing keeping boats safe from weather and salt water growth on the hull:

 In the US red markers on the way home should be on the right side of the channel. 

They are triangular and even numbered.

 Green ones are square and odd numbered.

Number 1 is at the destination while the highest numbers are furthest out at sea.

It's a simple and effective system monitored b y the US Coastguard.

 Robert's Salty Dog, unlike Rusty likes going out on Robert's catamaran:

 Lovely colors. 

 Not all Keys homes are modest affairs. Some have miles of docks.

 Robert uses whips to keep his 26-footer in tension away from the seawall. 

 I enjoy watching the parade of sailboats from shore. Sometimes on this hot summer days I miss it...

 ...but reality sets in with a jolt. It's a lot of work for not much exploration, coasting around countries.

 And fishing has never appealed to me.

 Commercial fishing is a tough life:

A Tale Of Two Dogs

I find dog ownership in this country to be rather peculiar.There is a widespread belief that dogs are as angry and unpredictable as their owners. Frequently when people snap at me asking if my dog is friendly the answer that comes pat is "much more friendly than you."  My neighbor marvels how Rusty has the run of the house and unfenced yard and is happy to sit in the driveway bothering no one and simply watching the world go by. Of course he is, he gets great walks and lots of attention and he knows not to piss me off. He is my companion, not an ornament or a status symbol. He doesn't like to see me annoyed so he behaves. We have a deal. 

He's a smart dog so it didn't take much to train him, but I don't hit him or yell at him, I just give him the cold treatment and he hates that. I use unconventional sounds to obey me. I say "stay" instead of sit so he only knows to obey me. If I want him to stop I clear my throat and he sits down just like that. As he lived on the streets for a long time he is very well versed with traffic and pays attention to passing cars and stays out of their way. I clear my throat and he sits and waits. 

Out walking I saw a distant figure with a dog tightly restrained barely visible. No sooner than they saw Rusty sitting waiting they turned tail and walked rapidly back out of sight, so far away they were barely stick figures. I can't imagine living with a dog that can't cross paths with another dog. I see them all the time struggling with leashes and and dogs that can't run free and be dogs. It seems a rough deal for dog and owner.

 Later that morning I wanted to sit by the ocean for a few minutes so I stopped with Ruty at a little waterfront pocket park. A man roughly my age, sun tanned skin with bleached blonde hair looking like  a surfer dude or a laid back long time Keys resident. He had a snow white dog sharing his space and I mentioned Rusty was friendly, he nodded, the dogs met and went nose-to-nose, no drama nothing needing to be said. It was a very satisfying moment to see the two dogs sizing each other up and enjoying their company.  

Maybe I extrapolated too much from the two encounters but in some way I felt they typified life in the Keys these days, the uptight incomer who loves the Keys and wants to make them conform to what she knows and the old tramp, millionaire or pauper who cares, who goes with the flow and lets  things sort themselves out as they should. I fear the leash-less shambling lifestyle is being pushed over the edge and away. Rusty and I agree that would be a shame.

Business Changes

Last week someone called 911 to report an incident on North Roosevelt Boulevard somewhere near the Banana Bay Motel "near the construction where they are tearing it down" they said. Tearing down Banana Bay? First I'd heard of that, another character-filled motel disappearing I figured. I like to check locations when I can't visualize them so I stopped by the motel parking area to see what was being torn down and I found nothing. Everything looked as normal. I wasn't even surprised as eye witnesses frequently get confused. 

Relieved to see no change at the iconic motel I started thinking about the latest changes planned for the city's biggest business strip. On big one is the Duncan Ford dealership now about 60 years old and just recently sold by the daughter of the founder. The new owners have retained all the employees according to the newspaper but have big changes planned. I suppose it's reasonable to think the place could use some refreshing.

Another old time business that could use some refurbishment is the tire shop on the Boulevard. Apparently this place will be torn down to make way for a restaurant to be built later. Glad I get my tires

 Mixed emotions among the people I have talked to with the news that the old TGIF building will be replaced by a Sonic hamburger joint. Not an inspired choice but franchises are the way this world works and the Conch Republic can't set its own standards, more's the pity.

This is a time of ferment in Key West I never know what will disappear suddenly. I keep checking Banana Bay on my way to work to make sure it's still there.

Don't Fence Me In

Rusty was as surprised as I by the appearance of an actual boat barreling down the canal that was originally supposed to be surrounded by homes. There are some homes way up the canal but I've never seen one on it.

They swooped by with a wave and headed for the jumping bridge. I'd heard the sounds of body flops earlier so I hoped the swimmers were out of the water. 

Further on as we came back on the paved Loop Road we found signs of new fencing about to be installed. Why? Who knows but it feels like another step along the path to gentrification as always.

I have no doubt there are good reasons to put up a fence but I find it unfortunate that things have to be improved all the time. I wish they could be left well enough alone.

It all looks terribly sturdy...

...and they have lots of them. Presumably the road will now be fenced off from the wilderness all around.

Oh well. New signs and new fences. I wish this could be a forgotten backwater. Pretty soon it feels as though we'll have nowhere to go to escape he daily grind.

Coming In From The Cold

I think it is more true than ever that you have to live your life at home, not at work. Rusty greets me at the top of the stairs outside our stilt house, every morning I'm at work. I pull up, park the bike, take off my helmet and he rushed down and leaps into me happier to see me than he can express, though he does let loose a few howls and mewls to show his relief that I am home. 

I value my dog so one night last week when a hotel called us to say they had a dog loose on the property it actually felt like a kindness to send out an officer to try to get the dog and find the owner. All of which happened by about three in the morning. The officer located a phone number on the collar and radioed me asking me to call the owner with the good news.  I shouldn't have bothered. He acted as though I was telling him his mother was dead. Is this a joke? h kept asking as though it was impossible his hound had gone walkabout. Are you really the police? You aren't even a US citizen. You must be a Russian spy. I kid you not. 

I don't sound as though I was born this side of the Atlantic but there is nothing Slavic about my intonation (I am a US citizen as it happens)  and I simply couldn't understand what he was talking about. I was trying to get his dog back where he belonged...and I was an Enemy? In the end the weird man's wife was convinced to go to the hotel and save the family pet, a cheerful Labrador apparently on the lam, a night in jail at the SPCA. The call bothered me though. So my wife sent me a picture of Rusty in his favorite spot, not on his couch, not on MY couch, not on his bed or mine but on this corner of the carpet:

I have heard stories of people feeling empowered to hate immigrants, and indeed a friend heard his trailer trash neighbor screaming at some guy on a scooter to "go back home" to Poland. I think the Pole was being an asshole but sending us immigrants "home" every time we offend is no answer to anything. Yet this behavior is now condoned by the top dog:

I see huge ironies writ large all over the US these days.I remember President Reagan telling the Soviet Union to "tear down that wall" speaking of Berlin and today our President wants to wall us in. I recently heard an appeal from the new President of France calling on the US's best and brightest minds working on new technology and climate change issues to make France their home. In France he said they would have everything they need to do their work.  Meanwhile the US President digs in and says coal is best and climate change is a hoax. The German Chancellor is now being described as the "leader of the Free World" a title she rejects but one that is filled with irony in light of Germany's past.  I feel like we have all slipped down a rabbit hole and landed in a world made upside down.

I am bracing for more anti-immigrant tirades especially as the constitutional guarantees seem to be holding up better than one might expect. But I miss the country I emigrated to, one filled with optimism and belief in itself and fearlessness in a world that needed those qualities as much as it does today. I hope it comes back soon.