Key West, Florida A not-so-brief overview. Part 2

Key West, Florida

A not-so-brief overview Part 2

Howdy All and Welcome Back.

As the title suggests this is Part 2 of my not-so-brief overview of Key West. So if you’re just tuning in now, you may want to go back and read Part 1.

After all, if you’ve never seen The Devil in Miss Jones, how can you ever hope to follow The Devil In Miss Jones Part 2?

…or even The Devil in Miss Jones 3!

And forget about The New Devil in Miss Jones…

Anyway, like I said, if you haven’t read Part 1, take a second and give it a good once over. It’s ok, we’ll wait.

http://krusterfuggnuggets.blogspot.com/2011/12/key-west-florida-not-so-brief-overview.html

Ok, now that we’re all up to speed, let’s begin.

As I mentioned in Part 1, Key West Florida is a place like no other. I can sit here and type all kinds of obscure adjectives to help further my point, but the truth is, you have to experience it to fully understand how distinctive a place it truly is. And again, as previously mentioned, it’s the locals who play a big part in making it so unique.

During the past 20 years I’ve been fortunate enough to meet and get to know an amazing cross section of people that not only live and work in Key West, but help to define the rhythmical culture of the island. Some encounters have been nothing more then a memorable handshake, while others have become close friends.

Some of these people have since moved away from Key West, some remain and some have shuffled off this mortal coil into the setting sun.

For example….

Shel Silverstein:

If you don’t know who Shel Silverstein is (more appropriately, was) then all I have to say is, Really? You’ve never heard of Shel Silverstein? Shame on you.

Shel Silverstein was a poet, an accomplished author, a prolific and Grammy award winning songwriter and a bigger then life personality. If you don’t know him by name, at the very least have to be aware of his work.

Songs like “A Boy Named Sue” and “25 Minutes to Go”, both made popular by Johnny Cash. ”The Cover of the Rolling Stone” sung by Dr. Hook and the Medicine Show as well as hits recorded by Loretta Lynn, Bobby Bare, Waylon Jennings and others.

He’s also the author of at least a dozen best selling books including “Where the Sidewalk Ends”, “The Giving Tree”, “Falling Up” and “A Light in the Attic”. If none of this seems at all familiar or is not ringing a bell, please have someone smother you with a pillow.

Meeting Shel Silverstein is stand out memory for me and one I’m not likely to forget. It also best illustrates the somewhat “surreal” quality of Key West where this kind of chance encounter isn’t that far from the norm.

The story goes like this…

My wife and I were standing in front of a fish tank inside the Conch Republic Seafood Company- a popular waterfront bar and grill. I looked to my left and standing there was a short bearded guy, totally bald with dark sunglasses on. We’re both just staring at the fish in the tank when he turns toward me and in a gruff gravely voice, says “Nice fish uh?” I respond with a polite “Yea” and then this strange little man with the voice of someone who has been sipping broken glass from a paper cup starts point out each fish and explaining what they were. “Ya see that one there…that’s a red-toothed Triggerfish…and that one there – that’s a Foxface.” This went on for a few minutes until we somehow segued into “life down in the Keys”. He said he lived here part time, more now then before and that he loved it. Said he had spent a lot of time in a bunch of different cities, here and overseas, and that this was one of his favorites. It’s to my detriment that I didn’t ask any follow up questions as I didn’t really give it any thought. I said, “Great talking to you”, shook his hand and joined my wife at a table. Not once did I realize whom I had just been speaking with.

About 2 months later I came across his obituary in a local paper and there in grainy black and white was the unmistakable face of the gruff little man I had been speaking to. The article said that Shel had died of a heart attack in his home in Key West.

And that is where the symbolic sidewalk ends.

Tony Tarracino:

Not as famous as Shel Silverstein but no less a celebrity, Tony Tarracino was referred to as the “city's most beloved resident” and undisputed soul of Key West. If there were a way to build a human being out of parts of Key West, the result would be Captain Tony. Part bar owner, part boat captain, part gambler, part politician, part liar, part prophet, Tony was as real and raw a person as you’re ever likely to come across. As a one-time, two year Mayor of Key West from 1989 to 1991, Tony’s main objective was to “limit Key West's growth and to keep its reputation as a refuge for eccentrics and renegades who had found their way to the southernmost point of the continental United States." as well as preserving Key West's daily sunset celebration. Tony died in November of 2008 but his name and reputation live on at Captain Tony’s Saloon located at 428 Greene St.

 I had the pleasure of sharing a drink with him during a Conch Republic Independence Celebration event.

Michael McCloud:

Michael McCloud is a lot of things.

Singer, songwriter, storyteller, entertainer.

He’s also a grumpy, cantankerous, cynical scholar who somehow manages to see the world through a drunks eyes while remaining stone cold sober. He’s educated and worldly yet jaded and crude. Sharp and caustic yet altruistic and complex. He is the person Jimmy Buffet claims to be.

More then just “an alcoholic-powered juke box machine”, Michael McCloud is a true Key West legend in every sense of the word and can usually be found performing at the Schooner Wharf Bar every Wednesday through Monday from noon until 5 PM.

Stop in, order a bucket of beer and catch a set.

I command it!

Dominique LeFort:

Ok, this is a tough one….

Dominique LeFort, also known as The Catman of Key West is a Sunset Celebration performer, a highly talented cat trainer, an animal activist and quite possibly the most bat-shit person I’ve ever had the pleasure of talking to.

Always friendly…always gracious and always happy to make my acquaintance…every single time he’s made it over the past 20 years.

Dominique is eccentric.

Dominique is unconventional

Dominique is a great guy…but make no mistake, Dominique LeFort is fucking crazy.

But only someone this crazy could be so compelling.

Watching Dominique perform with his army of trained cats is like watching The Sorcerer’s Apprentice scene in Fantasia. It’s a combination of kinetic energy, whimsy and dreamlike fantasy. Only instead of marching brooms, it’s a bunch of jumping cats and instead of Mickey Mouse in wizard robes, it’s a diminutive French man in black socks barking out orders in broken English. Dominique, his cats and his act exist in only two places…Key West Florida and my nightmares. (I’m allergic to cats)

I don’t mean any of this in a negative way. There simply is nobody else on this planet like Dominique that isn’t either locked up somewhere on heavy sedation or on the next episode of Hoarders.

His skill is beyond question and his patience and love of his cats is undeniable and for that he should be both respected and commended. I however would not want to be trapped in an elevator with him for any extended period of time. That being said, make sure you catch his show. He performs nightly at the Westin Dock by Mallory Square.

Paris Dennis:

Paris Dennis is just one of a thousand musicians that perform in Key West. A somewhat imposing dreadlocked Jamaican singer/songwriter who plays a custom made rosewood guitar with the face of a lion carved into the body. However, a Paris Dennis performance is unlike any other you’re likely to see…and if you’re lucky, you’ll be pulled into the show.

Let me set the scene for you…this was my very first introduction to Paris Dennis…

It was Memorial Day weekend. Not sure the year…maybe 1998, maybe 1999…who the hell can remember…and myself, along with my then girlfriend/future wife and three of our friends (who had never been to Key West before) walked into what was, at the time, Rumrunners. A large but dank, smelly toilet of a bar with a bad reputation, located right in the thick of it on the lower end of Duval Street.

The music was loud.

The crowd was in a frenzy.

We walked in, strolled up to the bar and ordered our drinks.

Performing onstage was Paris.

Raw and unrefined…drenched in sweat and surrounded by half naked women grinding each other. The five of us watched unblinking. That is, until he grabbed a young and very excited blonde woman from the crowd and had her jump up on the bar right where we were standing. He then told her to pull up her skirt – which she did- sprayed whipped cream on her inner thigh and forced…seriously, forced - my friend Matt’s head into it and demanded that he lick it all up. – which he did with a combination of uncontainable excitement and trembling fear.

Paris was like the ringleader of some depraved Bacchanalian Circus. Equal parts Caligula, PT Barnum and Bob Marley. To this day, I’ve never seen anyone command an audience like he did that night.

A few years later, I hired him to play my wedding.

Think I’m kidding?

Look at this…

Actual photo from my wedding

Paris moved out of the Keys a few years ago and now resides in and around Tampa.

John Allicock:

John Allicock (yea yea, I know it’s funny) also known as Dr. Juice is, like Dominique LeFort, a performer at the famed Sunset Celebration in Mallory Square. He’s a tumbler, an acrobat, a comedian and can do things with his body that don’t even seem remotely safe or even possible. He’s also in his mid 50’s and is in better shape then anyone I know.

But aside from being extremely entertaining, he’s also a hell of a nice guy with a lifetime’s worth of knowledge about Key West and the people that have lived there. He’s the guy that has “seen it all” and is happy to share his experiences with you. I’ve had this opportunity a few times over the years. The first was at Ricks Bar on Duval Street during Mel Fisher Days. For those that don’t know, Mel Fisher was a treasure hunter and Keys resident responsible for finding the “Motherlode” of over 40 tons of gold and silver from the sunken Spanish Galleon, the “Nuestra Senora de Atocha”, or simply the Atocha. Every year, Key West celebrates his life and his accomplishments with a series of parties and events.

Every time I’m in Key West, I make it a point to watch John’s show at Mallory Square, compliment his performance and do one of those “Hey, remember me? I’m the guy that…etc etc”

He always says he knows me, which is nice.

Whether or not it’s true is irrelevant. He’s a great guy, with some great stories.

Whether or not they’re true is also irrelevant.

Welcome to Key West.

Pam Hobbs:

Key West is, to put it simply, an artsy town.

There are as many galleries as there are bars and as many artists as bartenders.

In fact, many bars actually sell paintings….of their bars….that you can buy in their bars…which is some kind of weird paradoxical wormhole type bending of the Eddington Limit Law of Physics. It’s been well documented that if you buy a painting of the Albert Castiglia Band performing at the Green Parrot, while sitting in the Green Parrot listening to the Albert Castiglia Band, you’ll go back in time.

Galleries of all types, sizes, shapes, colors and flavors can be found on virtually every street in Key West and one of my favorites is the 7 Artists Gallery on Duval Street, mostly because that’s where you can find Pam Hobbs.

Pam stands out on this list in that she’s the only one not likely to frighten your children.

She’s a genuinely sweet woman who is happy to tell you anything you’d like to know. Be that about her paintings, her perspective or how best to avoid a parking ticket.

She’s also able to capture the spirit of Key West better then anyone else I’ve ever seen.

The truth is, Pam herself could be a metaphor for Key West. Outgoing and friendly and at first glance, unassuming. But stick around …get to know her for a few minutes, things are about to heat up.

Pam’s ability to capture the lyrical qualities of Key West is uncanny. I talked about her paintings being “real art” in a previous post and I meant it. I think her personal style is successful because not only do I understand it and understand her, but it resonates with me as a completed piece. Yes, it could be considered “cartoonish” in an illustrated sort of way, but that’s one of the reasons it works as well as it does.

Key West is a “cartoonish” town. Things happen here that couldn’t possibly happen anywhere else.

Do you know how Key West celebrates New Years Eve?

While the whole world is watching a big shimmering ball descend in the middle of Times Square, the people in Key West cheer loudly as a drag queen gets lowered into the street in a giant sparkling shoe!

I defy you to find anything more cartoonish then that!

But to dismiss Pam’s paintings as simply “cute” or “quirky” is to do yourself a major disservice. Pam’s art can show you more about Key’s life more then any guidebook can.

She’s not painting a house. She’s showing you the lives of the people that live there.

She’s not just painting a bicycle, she’s telling you about the person that owns it.

Are these images deep and thought-provoking?

Maybe…maybe not. Who can say?

Will they spark a lively debate as to their cultural significance and place in art history?

Probably not.

Are they memorable?

Yup. They sure are.

Will they make you think fondly of your time in the Keys?

You bet your ass.

I’ve never looked at a Rembrandt and wished I was there.

And that my friends, is what you call, a positive reaction.

To see more of Pam’s work, check out her work online at:

www.hobbsart.freeservers.com

Or her blog at:

http://www.pamhobbs.blogspot.com

Or hey, here’s a novel idea…go say hello to her live and in person at the 7 Artists Gallery located at 604 Duval Street

Well that wraps up Part 2.

Stick around…Part 3 is in the works.

Remember…close cover before striking and never look a gift horse in the bush.

The road is calling and it’s best not to keep her waiting.

See ya on the flip flop.

Oh and one more thing…

Woman eating a banana.

Cheers!

Key West, Florida A not-so-brief overview. Part 1

Key West, Florida  A not-so-brief overview.  Part 1



First an apology followed by an explanation

I’m sorry.

There. There’s my apology.

If you’ve read any of my previous posts, you know I have a tendency to ramble on a bit. In fact, to label what I do “rambling” would be like saying Louis Farrakhan occasionally has a problem with white people. It’s a bit of an understatement.

The truth is, these blogs can be a bit wordy and this particular one probably won’t be much better. In fact, I can almost guarantee it’s gonna be worse.

You see (and here’s the explanation part) I’ve thought long and hard (that’s right, long and hard) how best to write about Key West for a while now and I’ve decided to try to do it as an overview and then, over time, break it down into individual experiences.

The reason for that is two-fold.

First and foremost, Key West Florida is my favorite place. And when I use the word “place”, I don’t mean it as a destination. I mean that in the very literal, over-all sense of the word. It is simply my favorite place to be both physically and mentally. …and occasionally, erotically…but that’s another post for another blog…

Now, I’m sure you’re saying “Mentally?....what the hell kind of metaphorical faux-philosophical mumbo jumbo bullshit is that you overly pretentious cocksucker?”

…to which I reply, “let me explain”.

You know how every December you hear people talk about the “Christmas spirit”?

It’s that warm and fuzzy excited feeling you get around the holidays? The one that makes the taste of eggnog and the idea of being around your in-laws bearable? Well, technically speaking, that’s nothing more then a conditioned neurological response your brain triggers from years of training. It’s not some miracle brought on by festive wintery magic and Tim Allen movies.

 It’s a learned response. But it is very real, it’s very distinct and recognizable and it is emotional.

Well, for me, the same sentiment applies to being in Key West.

It’s much more then anticipation and excitement.

In fact, it’s the opposite.

It’s a serene level of contentment.

It’s the feeling of knowing where you belong. Almost like, you’re not alone.

I guess it’s how a Robert Smith fan feels when he or she first meets a Morrissey fan.

However in my case, it’s not a group of pasty white face downtrodden art fags rebelling against their parents for buying the wrong shampoo.

No. It’s more a feeling of being able to connect with an entire town and (most) of the people that live there. I must stress the word “live” in this instance because the last group of people I ever want to associate myself with would be gangsta rappers…and beyond that, it’s tourists.

God damn do I fucking hate tourists….and gangsta rappers….and people who dress up their cats….and Tim Allen.

Fuck Tim Allen….seriously, fuck him.

Fuck this guy

But I digress…

The vibe I get from Key West is very much one of “being home”.

It’s familiar and comforting. And even though, geographically speaking it’s not the most easily accessible place, the expedition is part of the romance.

And if you read my post about traveling, you’d know that’s saying a lot.

The second reason (remember, I was listing reasons…) is that I have been a frequent visitor to the Florida Keys and Key West for the better part of the last 2 decades.  I make it a point to get down there every year, sometimes 2 to 3 times a year if possible. And that being the case, it makes more sense to give an overview for my first Keys-themed post rather then a detailed breakdown of a particular trip.

Follow?

At some point, when I’m able to overcome the army of lazies that have forcibly occupied the Motivation Quadrant of my brain, I’ll start writing about my past adventures and exploits down in the southernmost city of the United States. And as much as I’d like to hype it up and play it off as a sordid drug-fueled road adventure, the truth of the matter is, it’s probably much less “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas” 

and probably much more “Vegas Vacation”.

So there you have it. If you’ve stuck with this post this far, I’m hoping you’ll stick with it to the end.

You should.

I think you owe it yourself.

Plus, it’ll be fun and entertaining….well written with intriguing characters. There will be mystery, suspense, thrills and chills. Unfortunately in the end I will probably meander off topic or get bogged down in my own sub plots and the finale will be telegraphed and anti-climactic. Just like every Stephen King book since Salem’s Lot.

But I can promise that there’ll be explosions...car chases…gratuitous male nudity…random acts of tomfoolery…drag queens and conch fritters.

So read on dear reader…read on.

Key West:

I’m going to focus primarily on the town of Key West and leave the other Keys for another time. But, to be clear, if you’re looking for the full 7 layer-burrito experience of Key West, then driving through the upper and lower Keys is a must. Without it, you’re only getting half the soup and no salad. (Hmmm..two food references…I must be hungry)

It’s like Sherlock and no Watson…Gomez but no Morticia.

It’s like sex without foreplay. Sure it’s good, but you’ve missed out on half the fun.

At this point I’m assuming everyone reading this has at least heard something about Key West, Florida, right?

Well?...am I right?

And I’m guessing if you’ve never been there, you picture it as some kind of non-stop rum soaked party all set to a Jimmy Buffet soundtrack, right?

Well, if so, you’re correct. Kind of.

I say “kind of” because if that’s all you’re looking for then that’s all you’re going to find and in my opinion, you’ve missed the point entirely. Which, again, my opinion only, is good, because the town is already overrun with single-minded Coors Light chugging troglodytes all looking for their lost shaker of salt and people like that are one trick ponies at best. They only know of one thing –only looking for one thing and subsequently all hang out at one place. Leaving room enough for the rest of us.

It’s not a dig at Jimmy Buffet and his legion of Parrotheads per say. Nor am I critiquing the billion-dollar media empire he’s built around false hopes and crappy songs. To Jimmy, the man, I say congratulations. You done good. But if all you and you’re friends are looking for is a cheeseburger in paradise, might I recommend visiting a Margaritaville Café that is closer to home. There’s one in Las Vegas, Myrtle Beach, Panama City, Glendale Arizona, New Orleans, Connecticut, Cancun, Nashville, Chicago and of course, Orlando. You’ll have the exact same experience at any one of these locations as you would in the Keys…minus all that pesky art and culture that permeates Key West. And that is PRECISELY why using Jimmy Buffet as your motivating guide to experiencing the island is a bad idea.

Key West is a town unlike any other I’ve ever experienced.

Almost everything about it is wholly unique. The people, the atmosphere, the lifestyle…everything right down to the food. It’s a place like no other and in a very real sense, is an island unto itself.

So why would you ever use something as generic and mass-produced as “Son of a Sailor” to be your navigational beacon?  Sure it sounds like a good idea, but then again so did John Mayer and SuckerPunch…and we all remember how that turned out.

If you wanted to experience other countries and foreign cultures, you wouldn’t just go visit the different pavilions at Epcot, would you? Well, same theory applies here.

I know that in some people’s eyes, Key West is the “town that Jimmy Buffet” built, but the truth is, Jimmy Buffet is the Disneyfication of what Key West REALLY is and there probably isn’t a single Conch (a term applied to someone who was born in Key West) that would disagree with me.

But that’s not to say that the daydreams and ideals that Buffet and his trop-rock followers perpetuate and subscribe to do not exist. No. In fact, that glamorized, near fictitious Arcadia is very very real and so are its inhabitants. You just need allow yourself to see it.

As I mentioned, Key West is a town like no other. At least none that I’ve come across. Only 4 miles in length and 2 miles in width, it can literally be anything you need it to be at any time of day.

Looking for a flashy, expensive 4 star night out on the town, just head over to the Café Maquesa on Flemming Street (try the Scallop Lasagnetta!).

How about a younger party scene? Grab your bathing suit and head over to Dante’s. The only restaurant with a swimming pool.

Want something more low-key and casual? Head over to B.O.’s Fish Wagon. Literally built of spare parts and held together by duct tape and luck, it simply can’t get any more casual then this.

Parked on the corner of William and Caroline, you can’t miss it.  Just look for the truck!

There is literally a “place for everyone” in Key West and that’s a tremendous part of it’s appeal and charm. But it’s more then that, the island itself is a living, breathing sentient life form that needs to be experienced to be truly appreciated. It can see…it can hear and it can talk. And sometimes it won’t shut the fuck up.

And like any other living creature it has a heart (the nightlife), a brain (it’s history) and a soul (the locals). And it’s this soul that gives it such a diverse and multifaceted personality. And make no mistake; Key West has personality out the ass!

Whenever anyone asks me what he or she should do in Key West, my answer is always the same. As a first timer, there are 5 “Musts”. You can do these in any order but they all must be completed, otherwise, you’ve had a less then successful visit.

1. Go to the top of La Concha to see the sunset

2. Hit the Rum Bar and have Bahama Bob mix you a Goombay Smash

3. Go to Schooner Wharf and catch a set by Michael McCloud

4. The Green Parrot at night

5. MEET THE LOCALS.

That last one is imperative and it’s important that you do it on every subsequent visit as well. Just like the town, the (true) locals are a breed all their own. And each hand I’ve shaken was unique. A combination of quirky and down-to-earth…sophisticated and crass…genial and cantankerous….artistic and salty…suave and cynical….cordial, courteous and kind yet jaded, inappropriate and lewd. They are some of the most interesting and real people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.

And sure, not everyone you meet will be friendly or interested in sharing a story with you, but by and large, Key West has the most fascinating cast of characters you’re ever likely to find.

I know I’m making it sound like the locals are part of a circus sideshow, lined up to be gawked at and photographed, but that’s not really what I’m getting at.

By no means am I suggesting you walk around, poking them with a stick while insisting they dance for nickels. Although, I’d like to see you try it. Lets see you get past a TSA agent with a poking stick lodged up your ass and a Conch republic flag arc welded to your back.

Everything I say, I say with total respect. Key West is an amazing place to visit, but a  very tough place to live. Sure it’s all rum and sunsets to you and I, but we don’t have to make a living there. The average local works 3 jobs and if they’re lucky, gets one day off every 5 weeks. That’s a legitimate statistic that I just made up…so you know it’s true. Most of the people I’ve met there over the years understand that the town runs on the almighty tourist dollar. They know they have to appease the fat smellies from the cruise ships if they want to make their mortgage payment and they’re happy to do so. But they also know that Key West belongs to them. You’re a guest in their house and you damn well better wipe your feet before you come in. This isn’t Disney World where it’s all plastic smiles all the time for anyone that paid their admission fee. This is the Florida Keys and if you got a smile it’s because you earned it, not because you think you deserve it.

So they do their best to straddle that thin line of gently coddling and catering to tourists while maintaining their individuality and integrity and they do this better then anyone. Warm, welcoming and hospitable…but don’t come in acting like you own the joint. They don’t call it “Bone Island” for nothing. Just ask Robert Matherson, the guy who used to own the Oak Beach Inn.

Originally when I first started writing this post, I had intended on including a brief history of Key West, going on to talk, probably at great length, about some of the famous and not so famous people that have helped to create and shape the island’s culture. But truthfully, I don’t think anyone reading this really cares and I’m not in the mood to dole out a history lesson right now. All of what I would tell you can probably be found on Wikipedia…so head over there if you’re really curious. In the meantime, here’s a quick visual reference guide of just a handful of people, past and present who either hail from or have helped contribute to the aesthetical architecture of the island.

I‘m going to end this segment here. According to the little counter at the bottom of my Microsoft Word page, I’m up to 2,273 words and I haven’t even really gotten into the “meat and potatoes” of it yet. So I’ll give my fingers and your attention span, a little rest. So feel free to get up, stretch your legs and grab a cup of coffee. Just remember- don’t feed the bears and abstain from using flash photography.

Ok, that’s all for now….Part II coming soon….the road is calling and it’s best not to keep her waiting.

Toodles.

Oh and one last thing….woman eating a banana.

Dogedun and St Pete

Aloha good people of the interwebs.

I realize my last post about East Norriton, Pennsylvania was on the south side of Lamesville so lets see if I can make it up to you with this one.

I just got back from St. Pete Florida recently and if you’re the kind of person that likes high-octane explosive action, werewolves and half naked lesbians slathered in oil, then let me recommend another blog. However, if you like to lay on the beach while sipping a rum cocktail and petting a dog, then stick around…you’re gonna want to hear this.

First, a little history lesson followed by a quick geography refresher.

11 years ago my dad moved from Queens, New York to a fictitious little town called Tierra Verde. I say “fictitious” because it’s essentially a made up place located in what is a basically a gated community in St Petersburg Florida. Imagine if everyone on your block got together and decided they wanted your street to be it’s own town but not have to go through the legalities of incorporating or being formally recognized by the United States…that’s Tierra Verde.

I try to go down and visit him twice or three times a year. And why the hell not? It’s beautiful down there. St Pete sits on the gulf side of Florida and is home to some of the most amazing beaches in the world. In fact, my dad lives within walking distance of Ft De Soto Park which is consistently rated in the top 5 of the Best Beaches in the United States.
http://www.americasbestonline.com/beaches.htm

Suck on that Jones Beach!

Plus, there’s so many great little towns all within an hour or so drive of St Petersburg.
 Take a look at this map.

The drive north on Gulf Blvd (699) is amazing. Almost every one of those towns…Treasure Island, Madeira Beach, Indian Shores, etc etc…have something worth seeing or exploring. And as most of you know, I sure do love me some exploring. So let’s explore.


ENTER PHASE 1:
One of my favorite places (not shown on that map) is a small town called “Dunedin”.  Located about 30 miles north of St Pete, Dunedin is small town charm and southern hospitality all rolled into one of the most dog-friendly cities on the planet. And if you’ve read any of my other posts, you know that means a lot to both my wife and myself. In fact, Dunedin is so dog-friendly, the locals have renamed it “Dogedin” and dangle that tag proudly from a collar around their neck.

 Almost every restaurant, every bar, every store, every warehouse, farmhouse, henhouse and outhouse is open to dogs. And Dunedin has A LOT of dogs. Which, if you’re a dog lover like us, is great. However, if you happen to be, say, a cat, I would not recommend it. But then again, if you are a cat, chances are you’re not reading this as it’s well known, cats are banned from blogspot.

The town of Dunedin covers a lot of area, most of it given over to residential housing. I wouldn’t necessarily call it a “suburb” as it’s not geographically laid out that way. Dunedin is split between the main highway that runs north and south along the water and an actual Main St that divides the town east and west.
And just like every other “Main St” in the United States, Main St Dunedin is where all the action is. It’s not a hustling hub of never ending lights and sound like say, Duval St in Key West or Freemont St in Las Vegas but it ain’t Mayberry either.

To the casual observer, Dunedin is a quiet non-assuming quaint kind of place, but look one layer deeper and you’ll find a town with a thriving artist community that is steeped in Scottish history. There’s no local pony show exaggerating the town’s virtues and history like you would find in a place like Salem, Massachusetts. Just the opposite. Dunedin and its residents, are very low key. Not in a dismissive manner. In fact, the people of Dunedin are some of the friendliest and most out-going of all Floridians…it just seems like they know they’re sitting on one of the best kept secrets and don’t want too many people in on it. I for one, don’t blame them. Large groups of people have a tendency to fuck up a good thing.

As I mentioned, Dunedin has a fairly impressive art scene for a small town. It’s the kind of art that I like to call “casual”.
I don’t mean this in a negative way…actually just the opposite.  All through High School and College I studied art history. At first, because I had to and later because I had taken a real interest in it. And while I have a deep appreciation for the “old masters” (yaaaaawn), the one thing I’ve found to be almost universally true, for me anyway, is that none of it is particularly welcoming. I don’t look at a Matisse or a Cézanne painting and feel like I know these people or even that I would want to. From a historical standpoint, it’s intriguing. From the social end, I can’t wait to get the fuck away from these people. And for me, that’s always been my argument in terms of what makes great art “great”.

Sure somebody can create a photo-realistic painting of a one-eyed pirate baby riding a furry rhinoceros, but if it doesn’t evoke any kind of visceral reaction then it’s a less then a successful artistic experience. Just because you put something in a gold leaf frame, doesn’t automatically make it art.

Here’s a perfect example…I have a friend who lives in Key West (not using her name here cos I’m not too sure she’d want to be associated with insane ramblings….she’s a professional and I am, lets face it, less then professional) She’s an artist whom, in my opinion, is able to capture the essence of Key West better then any other artist in that town and seeing as how Key West has more “artists” then LA has “actors”, that’s saying a lot. But she does it in a very welcoming, whimsical kind of way.

Now some might look at her paintings and think they look like cartoons and that’s ok. It’s a very limited way to look at it, but fine. To each his own. But to me, this is art. I can look at it and not only see the painting, but I can see the painter. I can understand what they painted and why. And most importantly, I can relate to it. I don’t feel like someone who should be standing behind a velvet rope admiring this painting in quiet reverence. I feel like I belong in that painting and that’s why it’s successful.

This is the kind of art that you find in Dunedin. It’s fun. It’s inviting. And like it’s people, it goes out of it’s way to make you feel at home. Some call it “outsider” art, some call it “folk” art and some call it “visionary art”...I just call it art and move on.

And speaking of moving on, let’s move on.

We spent the first half of our trip staying in Dunedin itself at a small mom and pop motel called The Seaside Artisan (see, I told you it was artsy).

The Seaside Artisan is a cute nine room little place located on Rt 19 about a block and a half away from the entrance to Main St. It’s small, it’s clean, it’s cheap, the owners are extremely gracious and welcoming and just like everything else, it’s pet friendly. If you’re not the type of person to be concerned with the extraneous particulars of life, then the Seaside Artisan is for you. It’s funky. It’s quirky. It’s got personality and it’s cash only. And at $65-$70 a night, you can’t possibly go wrong.

From our base at the Seaside Artisan, the wife and I took a couple of little side trips here and there, but the one I want to talk about most is our trip up to Weeki Wachee to check out the Weeki Wachee Springs State Park and it’s world-famous mermaid show.

Weeki Wachee Springs is a decades old Florida attraction and a living, breathing, swimming piece of roadside Americana. The park was first opened in 1947 by an ex-Navy seal (at the time called Frogman) and has been home to hundreds of performing mermaids. No, not real mermaids…don’t be a wisenheimer…women dressed as mermaids. Real women, dressed like real mermaids…not like that uncle that nobody wants to talk about.

The spring itself is the surfacing point of an underground river and is the deepest naturally occurring spring in the United States. Not all that impressive to read about, but amazing to witness for real. In addition to mermaids, the springs are also the winter home for manatees due to it’s constant 72 degree year round temperature.

Actual picture of manatees taken at the springs...not just some shit I dug up on Google

The park itself is a throw back to a simpler time. As far as I know, this is the only attraction of it’s kind still in operation. Places like these used to dot the Florida roadsides but as time went on, the American attention span became shorter and shorter and people expected a bigger entertainment whack, just in smaller bursts. So one by one these family oriented theme parks began to vanish. Places like Circus World, Cape Coral, Masterpiece Gardens, etc have all long since disappeared but Weeki Wachee remains. And while it does, I thought it was important to see.

The park itself is not all that big if you compare it to a place like Disney World or Six Flags but it’s clean and well maintained and feels like it’s a living entity instead of an automated machine. The people are real, the smiles are real and you don’t need to take a tram from your parking spot in Goofy to get to the front gates.

Aside from the underwater mermaid theater there’s also a small beach and Buccaneer Bay, the onsite waterpark. You can also take a river cruise (which we did) or take in one of the live animal shows (which we did not). You can also rent a canoe and explore the springs on your own. Something that I would love to do…while my wife went and did something else…something that didn’t involve being so close to nature…something that possibly included shoes and the purchasing of.

If you ever happen to be in or around Weeki Wachee, and honestly I can’t think of a single reason that you would be, stopping at the Springs State Park is a must. For more information check out http://www.weekiwachee.com and to see what the park was like in it’s glory days, take a gander at this…



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ENTER PHASE 2:

So after spending a few days bumming around Dunedin, we packed up our shit and headed south to St. Pete Beach and set up shop at The Post Card Inn. http://www.postcardinn.com/

“Hip, affordable and resolutely casual” is how Travel + Leisure describes it, and while that’s certainly true…depending on your definition of “affordable”…it’s also stylishly ultra modern yet retro while maintaining a shabby chic vibe. Sounds strange right? Well, to some degree it is.

The Post Card Inn is not the type of hotel you normally find in a place like St Pete Beach. It almost seems out of place. Like someone plucked a trendy boutique hotel out of South Beach. Shook out all the arrogance and pretension and dropped it down here just to see what would happen.  The Post Card Inn is almost a nurture versus nature experiment because the locals of St Pete, most of whom are blue collar salt-of-the-earth people, have adopted this place and made it their own. And nowhere is that more evident then at the PCI Beach Bar and Snack Shack located just steps from the sand. Fancy in it’s nothing fancy approach, the PCI Beach Bar looks like an old smoke house made from scraps of driftwood, Frankensteined together with nails and hot glue. It’s covered in both local and tourist graffiti, serves ice cold beer and is a perfect spot to watch the volleyball tournaments that take place less then 10 feet away.

The entire property is well designed and impeccably maintained with a vast open feel. The sleek modern lobby and the rooms form a U-shape around a well-manicured garden area that leads up to a gigantic swimming pool.

Just beyond that lies the bar, then the beach. Careful planning and care have been taken in every step of the redesign of this entire property with the exception of ….

The rooms themselves aren’t necessarily “bad”…they just don’t live up to the rest of what the hotel is selling. When you first enter the building, you step into a spacious lobby that is contemporary to the point where it’s almost avant-garde. It’s very minimalist in it’s design, but conveys a modern sensibility. The rooms are also minimalist, but in a way that just comes off as lazy. It’s almost as if they ran of out money and interest.

The walls of our room were painted in flat contrasting colors and adorned with “inspirational” quotes that, again, came off as mainly uninspired.

It didn’t help that the entire room smelled like someone sprayed Lysol on an Elephant’s nutsack. But truthfully, you don’t come to a place like this to spend any extended period of time in your room.

This was our second time at The Post Card Inn and as chance would have it, the second time we’ve been there for their anniversary / holiday party / tree-lighting extravaganza. Not a big to-do or knock em’ back kind of hootenanny, but entertaining nonetheless. An impressive Christmas tree (yes, it’s a CHRISTMAS tree…not a Holiday tree) in their courtyard, children performing CHRISTMAS songs, free buffet appetizers and lots and lots of booze. What more could you ask for?

In short, a very cool place to hang out, but not necessarily the best choice in which to stay. The Post Card is located on Gulf Blvd and is literally surrounded by hundreds of other hotels. My advice, stay at the Howard Johnsons right next door for a fraction of the price and and hang out at the Post Card for as long as you can stand it. The rooms are probably nicer, they all share the same beach and the PCI Beach Bar and Snack Shack are open to the public anyway. Save some clams and spend it on booze.


Well peeps, that’s all for now. The road is calling and it’s best not to keep her waiting.
See you on the flip flop.

Oh, and one last thing….woman eating a banana.