Tuesday, January 31, 2012
oh fuck it
it's eight to five [a.m.] on a tuesday morning and i'm sick and tired of the whole thing...i've got this parkinson's affliction and epilepsy. my right hand won't work right and i've got a lot of memories i want to get on the record before i'm unable...the day ahead doesn't seem so attractive. i'm housebound - i can't drive for another month or so - and sally goes off to work at 7:30. all i've got to do is see that the dog doesn't pee in the house, iron some napkins and call my accountant. the rest of you, have a nice day....
Monday, January 30, 2012
key west - part three
you remember when andrew cunannon shot gianni versace in miami beach and all of florida's finest, including those in key west, were put on high alert. tsnake and i were down at my house getting ready to go fishing just after that and one evening i went out to buy some liquor. a little while later tsnake heard the door bell ring and, figuring i had forgotten my key, went out to let me in. while i'd been gone we'd had a hell of a thunderstorm - one of those typical tropical maelstroms - and the trees were dripping. when he opened the door he was greeted by the large and lethal muzzle of a glock .45.
on the other end of the automatic was an enormous and very nervous cop.
"hands up!" [they already were.] "turn around!" "hey," said tom. "point that thing somewhere else."
suddenly the cop's radio squawked. he raised it to his ear, muttered something back, holstered his pistol and left.
when i returned some minutes later i was greeted by a still shaking - and very pale - tsnake. all we could figure was that the storm had set off someone's alarm - not mine - and the cop had gone to the wrong address. we both had a stiff drink.
it was, after all, key west.
on the other end of the automatic was an enormous and very nervous cop.
"hands up!" [they already were.] "turn around!" "hey," said tom. "point that thing somewhere else."
suddenly the cop's radio squawked. he raised it to his ear, muttered something back, holstered his pistol and left.
when i returned some minutes later i was greeted by a still shaking - and very pale - tsnake. all we could figure was that the storm had set off someone's alarm - not mine - and the cop had gone to the wrong address. we both had a stiff drink.
it was, after all, key west.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 28, 2012
good advice for sons and husbands
"darling, never go to the kitchen empty handed...."
my mother, circa whenever
my mother, circa whenever
key west - part two
i wanted to have a cocktail party. so i asked all my friends in key west - fishermen, non-fishermen, and help...annie, john wells, kennie the rake and mike the hoe. kennie accepted - along with others - and asked if he could come dressed as a cocktail waitress. i said no - my conservative fishing guide friends wouldn't understand. he agreed that was probably true - and, even so, took over the party with his charm. the little shit.
sally and i had two favorite places to eat - bagatelle on duval street and blue heaven in old key west. at bagatelle we could often get the corner table overlooking duval...and spend much of our time gawking at, or mocking, the passers by. the food was only fair but the sights were good and the cork bouncing [which we taught the kids] was excellent if one found the sweet spot on the table. blue heaven - across duval in the old part of town - was the place to go for breakfast. the outdoor eating area was shaded by a big, old gumbo limbo tree and the ground covered in deep brown mulch through which chickens scratched, pecking occasionally at the odd scrap or bug. cats of all sizes lolled insouciantly under the tables. the first time i took sally, hungover, i stopped at the bar on the way in and ordered coffee and a red stripe. sally, equally hungover, had the same and declared red stripe "the best beer ever."
the pier house, down by the harbor, was high end when it came to food but had a nice, intimate piano bar which was good for late night drinks. often there were several gay actors and singers in attendance and one got any number of slightly off key, though exuberant, show tunes and dance lines. one quiet night sally sang tune after tune with the forgiving and patient piano player. a slightly drunk and much more enthusiastic piano man pounded out tunes in the bar at la-di-da, the gay hotel on duval as she struggled to keep up. i drank rum on the rocks and bantered with the barman, all the while eyeing an obviously uncomfortable couple from cleveland who had stumbled into this den of iniquity and depravity. they fled when "it's raining men" came over the sound system at full blast and a succession of gays marched down from the second floor and into the "ballroom" to attend the weekly 4:30 p.m. "industrial strength" tea dance.
it was, after all, key west.
sally and i had two favorite places to eat - bagatelle on duval street and blue heaven in old key west. at bagatelle we could often get the corner table overlooking duval...and spend much of our time gawking at, or mocking, the passers by. the food was only fair but the sights were good and the cork bouncing [which we taught the kids] was excellent if one found the sweet spot on the table. blue heaven - across duval in the old part of town - was the place to go for breakfast. the outdoor eating area was shaded by a big, old gumbo limbo tree and the ground covered in deep brown mulch through which chickens scratched, pecking occasionally at the odd scrap or bug. cats of all sizes lolled insouciantly under the tables. the first time i took sally, hungover, i stopped at the bar on the way in and ordered coffee and a red stripe. sally, equally hungover, had the same and declared red stripe "the best beer ever."
the pier house, down by the harbor, was high end when it came to food but had a nice, intimate piano bar which was good for late night drinks. often there were several gay actors and singers in attendance and one got any number of slightly off key, though exuberant, show tunes and dance lines. one quiet night sally sang tune after tune with the forgiving and patient piano player. a slightly drunk and much more enthusiastic piano man pounded out tunes in the bar at la-di-da, the gay hotel on duval as she struggled to keep up. i drank rum on the rocks and bantered with the barman, all the while eyeing an obviously uncomfortable couple from cleveland who had stumbled into this den of iniquity and depravity. they fled when "it's raining men" came over the sound system at full blast and a succession of gays marched down from the second floor and into the "ballroom" to attend the weekly 4:30 p.m. "industrial strength" tea dance.
it was, after all, key west.
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
key west - part one
i had a house in key west [to paraphrase isak dinesen]...for ten years...to which i intended to retire. i first went to the island with tiger thouron to fish with gil drake and fell in love with the goofy aura of the place right away. the house i found on a later visit. it was enclosed by a wall, a fence, and backed by a canal - complete privacy - with its own - wonder of wonders - key lime tree. it came equipped with two gay gardeners - kenny the rake and mike the hoe - and an old rock and roller named john wells who ministered to the pool. which reminds me, one of my great joys - right after i arrived for a visit - was to throw a chair into the shallow end and lie naked in the cool water contemplating the stars. a further enhancement was the fact that the house paid for itself in rentals, only slightly diminished by annie's, my housekeeper, occasional calls, "you won't believe what i found under the bed...!" it was, after all, key west.
one of the strangest starts to a fishing trip occurred one evening as i arrived and stepped out of my car. around the corner of the wall came my cuban neighbor. "senor! senor! come quick!" he pulled me by the arm towards his front door. "snake...snake...a beeg one!" once inside a cacophony of noise nearly flattened me. screamed spanish from all directions...a mixture of dog barks and howls and in the corner a german shepherd which had something - god knows what - at bay. then i saw what...a huge golden python as big around as my thigh coiled tightly under a table. "what do we do, senor?" i shrugged my shoulders, at a loss...suddenly there appeared at the door a burly youngster waving a snake stick - a pole with a noose attached - who charged to the corner, slipped the cord over the snake's head, and yanked. all hell broke loose with furniture and lamps flying. the snake, of course, was nothing but an eight foot long muscle and not a particularly happy one. it was not going quietly. seeing there was little more i could offer, i backed towards the door. "what will you do with it?" i asked my neighbor. "i don't know senor. eat it, perhaps," and he smiled tightly.
somebody's pet released and gone feral? it was, after all, key west.
one of the strangest starts to a fishing trip occurred one evening as i arrived and stepped out of my car. around the corner of the wall came my cuban neighbor. "senor! senor! come quick!" he pulled me by the arm towards his front door. "snake...snake...a beeg one!" once inside a cacophony of noise nearly flattened me. screamed spanish from all directions...a mixture of dog barks and howls and in the corner a german shepherd which had something - god knows what - at bay. then i saw what...a huge golden python as big around as my thigh coiled tightly under a table. "what do we do, senor?" i shrugged my shoulders, at a loss...suddenly there appeared at the door a burly youngster waving a snake stick - a pole with a noose attached - who charged to the corner, slipped the cord over the snake's head, and yanked. all hell broke loose with furniture and lamps flying. the snake, of course, was nothing but an eight foot long muscle and not a particularly happy one. it was not going quietly. seeing there was little more i could offer, i backed towards the door. "what will you do with it?" i asked my neighbor. "i don't know senor. eat it, perhaps," and he smiled tightly.
somebody's pet released and gone feral? it was, after all, key west.
Monday, January 23, 2012
cruising
"there are three things i like about being on an italian cruise ship. first, their cuisine is unsurpassed. second, their service is superb. and then, in time of emergency, there is none of this nonsense about women and children first." attributed to winston churchill
with thanks to tsnake
with thanks to tsnake
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