Sloppy Joe's

I found myself caught in a crowd on the sidewalk in front of the world's most iconic bar...It sounds like the opening line of a joke, and if Sloppy Joe's isn't the world's most iconic it is certainly Key West's. I know this because a woman in the knot of people watching a Conch Tour Trolley getting stuck in front of an obstinate driver afraid of backing up, said loudly in my ear:" Now I can get a Sloppy Joe's t-shirt," with the sort of excitement mixed with reverence I have heard among crowds attending a Papal Blessing in St Peter's Square. I was a bit surprised.

After the red car backed up enough to release the extremely patient professional driving the trolley the crowd started moving but not before several more people around me muttered"Sloppy Joe's" in various tones of excitement. Really? I hesitate to admit it but I have never had a drink far less food at Sloppy Joe's, nor do I really want to as I am not a fan of crowds nor am I very inspired by the sort of food offered to a transient customer base. It seems the bar has done a bang up job of advertising itself.

Sloppy Joe Russell has gone down in history as Ernest Hemingway's buddy in Key West. He ran a bar that wasn't, it was a speakeasy as during prohibition places selling alcohol were not allowed. As odd as that sounds I have wondered from time to time how life might be if the intemperate and incompetent weren't encouraged in their social stupidity by the lubrication of alcohol. I'm not complaining really as they are a form of job security for me, even as they sow discord in families and danger on the roads. Moderation is not a word one associates with Key West and alcohol unfortunately. 

Sloppy Joe created the Blind Pig  which he opened May 5th 1933 when prohibition ended and he became legitimate. That place was located where Captain Tony's is today and that's the reason they claim to be the original Sloppy Joe's... In 1937, by when he had changed the name to the Silver Slipper his landlord increased the rent from three to four dollars  a month and they say he bought the current building for twenty five hundred dollars in 1937.

One of the other legends about Sloppy Joe's involves how all the patrons of the Silver Slipper helped Joe Russell pack up the bar and hauled the entire contents up Greene Street to the current location. The Hemingway House used to tell the story, and still may for all I know that the urinal used as a flower pot in the garden was an artifact from the Silver Slipper on Greene Street taken during the move. Apocryphal but a cute story.

Then the name is anther story. Apparently there was a Jose Garcia who kept a bar called Rio Havana and it was known for being a mess with melted ice all over the floor and Hemingway suggested that place as the inspiration for the name Sloppy Joe's, not directly attributable to Joe Russell directly then. Who knew?

The funny thing to me is how durable the place is and bars around it come and go. The Lazy Gecko apparently had a landlord falling out and  a place that seemed as stable disappeared. IC Doubles claims to have entered into an extended vacation which has prompted Facebook speculation that it isn't coming back and so it goes.

I saw these pigeons keeping the Bull and Whistle (and Garden of Eden, the clothes optional bar on the roof) under observation. Rick's, Irish Kevin's Captain Tony's and Hog's Breath are part of that grouping of apparently permanent bars in downtown. 

But for some reason Sloppy Joe's is the one as Hemingway's pull is as strong as ever.  I remain astonished by the power of the writer's name not least because he only lived in Key West twelve years and claimed his home in Havana as his favorite place to be, which you can see here, Finca Vigia, from an essay I wrote in 2009.

Dog Beach

I'm not sure how to quantify whether or not Key West is a dog friendly town. I'm inclined to think it does pretty well as there is a decent shady dog park at Higgs Beach with a fenced off field  available across town at Trumbo Road. Then there is the off leash beach just east of the Martello Tower at Higgs Beach about which no one says a word but which has a seawall and no easy access to water. Then there is also this peculiar but real opening to the water at Vernon and Waddell Streets.

It's though it was left by default as a space for dogs after no one else knew what to do with it. Frankly I'm surprised a waterfront home didn't sprout here but perhaps in those days greed was less rampant. That can't be true but anyway it is a beach for dogs, be it ever so small.

 The views are splendid.

 The dead seaweed is rather less splendid but that's beach life in the Keys.

The deck at Louie's restaurant is just around the corner, a spot much appreciated by people who like Louie's. I prefer a less exalted tone than I find at Louie's,  when I am eating out.

 Thee is plenty of shade which is necessary in summer.

 An innovation and a rather clever one too:

 A chicken on the dogs' beach.

Looking north toward South Street confusingly enough. Shady Casa Marina district streets looking picturesque. Not that the dogs care.

Duval Pocket Park

The announcement of the creation of a sidewalk cafe and park at the end of Duval Street was not greeted  with universal joy. The complaints focused on the use of public property for a private business but the developer is promising only improvements and not a take over.

 The plans were hashed out almost a year ago in city hall:

This is how the space looked before construction began and we have to be honest, it wasn't that enticing.

The beach cafe will still be there hopefully not facing new competition but something that might draw people down.

Duval Street basically ended in a wall and a small pier with the opening often packed with dead seaweed. 

Now the construction is underway:

 With detours around the construction to the beach:

 The pocket park cafe will be an adjunct to the Southernmost House:

 Looking back north up Duval Street.

Rusty The Hunter

He smelled an iguana hiding in the grass. Before Hurricane Irma the place was overrun by iguanas but they lost a lot of habitat and now it's coming back their population seems to be growing as well, worse luck. They are terrible predators with no natural enemies.

 He knew it was there somewhere.

 He traced it to the gap underneath the power pole, a perfect hiding spot. Rusty worried at the space from different angles for quiet a while.

When his back was turned I saw a bright green streak slip out and dive silently into the bushes. Rusty never saw a thing.

He used to be a fierce hunter but regular food as much as he wants has dulled the edge of his killer instinct these days.

I think once upon a time he survived by eating what he caught. These days his life is a good bit softer. No regrets.

Last Walk

My wife suggested we drive to Old Bahia Honda for one more dog walk before she took off for California by way of a hotel in Fort Lauderdale. We avoid the Miami airport where possible as the slightly smaller facility at Fort Lauderdale, a mere thirty minutes further north is much friendlier and easier to use.

 I turned on some filters to add drama to what I was seeing in this very familiar place.

 After a short while my wife turned back and Rusty and I were on our own. Not that he noticed:

 He was busy playing at being Tigger running and chasing.

 In the distance the brown Fiat 500 pulled out into the traffic and in an instant was out of sight.

I listed in my head the chores I have to do, alone for the time being.

Holidays And Fireworks

It is a bit odd finding yourself in the Keys during a holiday when everyone around you has time off and you are just living the usual routine. The worst parts involve too much traffic which is normal in summer during national days off, but then also WiFi inexplicably slows down and all those usually empty houses suddenly fill up and urchins are suddenly throwing a ball around on my normally silent as the grave suburban street. Rusty and I took off for a little while to get away from it all. 

Rusty doesn't handle thunderstorms too well. He has got over his fear of rain which must have been a dreadful burden when he was living on the streets, but the clap of thunder strikes terror in him. That and fireworks are enough to send him into a panic. Thee again his fear is reasonable enough considering he watched his whole pack get shot or poisoned by the rather callous farmers of the Redlands of Homestead who take out their frustration on people dumping dogs by pursuing and shooting the strays. I look at Rusty and wonder at the horrors he has seen, and then I wonder how even keeled he is after all that.

The good news is that when he hears those noises he runs too me and not away so that's a good thing. With my wife out of town for two weeks visiting friends in California and his usual house sitters,both sets of them also out of town I was stumped as to what to do with him the night of the Fourth, firework night. So I got permission to bring him to work ad then I had to figure how to get him out of the house as the neighborhood erupted into loud bangs and cracks as everyone got busy exploding gunpowder.

Much to my surprise he meekly got up and followed me as I made my way out of the house and followed him downstairs. He jumped in the car and lay flat on the back seat. I guess he really does trust me. At the police station he pawed at the door to be let in and flew upstairs to dispatch where he said hello to everyone and then settled on the floor in the most soundproof room in the city. He snored the night away in his bed, no trouble at all. Usually he is fine staying home alone all night but with no one to look after him I couldn't figure out what else to do. Thank god for another little bit of help at work. 

With my wife away I get some quality time with Rusty. At least that's what I tell myself as I dust and vacuum and do the laundry. Life goes on pretty much the same but he is always glad to see her when she gets back. I am surprised by how even tempered he is but I guess anything is better than his previous life. And he does enjoy being free to come and go as he pleases.

Afternoons are good for a swim on these boiling hot one hundred degree afternoons. I find the warm canal waters delightful though some heathens say they prefer cooler waters. When my legs were weaker I devised an angled approach into the water by buying a twenty foot ladder at ACE Hardware in Summerland and dropping it at an angle into the canal. Brilliant! I like using it so much more than the vertical, barnacle encrusted steps of the permanent vertical dock ladder that I shall continue to use my garden ladder, pulling it out between swims to keep sea growth away.

Swimming does an amazing job of limbering up my formerly broken knee and reducing the pain in my pelvis and thighs. My wife is an inveterate swimmer but I find I have a strong incentive to get in the water now and do my leg exercises even though she is away for two weeks.

And then of course as the sun sets and temperatures drop Rusty and I head out for another walk along shady trails where he won't burn his paws. He was tired on the way back and I stood next to him as he sank down into the grass half way back to the car. I was dripping sweat but even after an hour my legs weren't hurting hardly at all. These exceptionally hot days are taking it out of all of us.