A Few Days in Paradise

Against all sour puss weather predictions, the weather for the next few days is spectacular. Scott and I do everything we can to soak up the unique flavor of Key West, its locals, and their sensibilities.

We soak up the sun at the beach and the pool. Natch.

We walk around town ogling architecture and admiring art and eating and drinking lots of new beers -like my new favorite, Rebel Rye - usually one in the bar and one in a To Go cup. It is not only allowed in Key West, roadies are the norm. People walk around with drinks in plastic cups of all shapes and sizes all the time. People of all ages. Drinks of all kinds. It is odd to see a senior citizen staggering around town with a mojito in a Solo cup, but I have to admit that the ability to leave with one's drink certainly makes it easy to scram from a bar where you aren't feeling the vibe. But that doesn't happen much to me and Scott in Key West.

Scott and I shop. Throw money around like sailors. On jewelry. For souvenirs for all the kids. For a neat-o military special ops knife that will have to be shipped home. (The airport people will have a little problem with the hair trigger, ambidextrous, switchblade. ) In black. So no one can see it in the dark. Cool. Very covert and 007.

We eat shamelessly. Most notably amazing Mexican food with fresh ingredients and blistering esophagus-searing hot jalapenos in a non-descript store front no-name place that we would have walked right by without a glance had it not been for the recommendation from some ladies at our hotel pool who told us how to get there by way of Sloppy Joe's. (Those are directions I could follow...) And pastry. Every pastry shop we pass gets a visit.

We listen to music. Everywhere. Even as we walk by open store fronts. My favorite being the woman at The Schooner who sounds (and looks)a lot like Janis Joplin who takes requests, including those for duets. She deftly does the part of June Carter Cash and Johnny Cash. "Jackson" never sounded so good.

We are nearly lured into two separate bars with competing drag shows, both by tall, buxom, well-heeled, handsome, beautifully made up "women" with larger than life personalities. (As opposed to the drag queen who was dressed like a librarian in tweed and tragic footwear who was angrily stomping off to work along side us on Duval one day. I guess I never imagined drag queens actually working except on stage. Color me enlightened.) But we skip both, vowing we'd come back again and see them both when Charlotte can join us, since it would be more fun that way.

But all too soon, the fun must end. Scott and I soothe our souls by talking about a 5 year plan to figure out a way to own a home here. It may be a pipe dream but maybe not. It is nice to think about.

We think about it because it makes us less sad, when on the last afternoon in Key West, we are standing in sandals and shorts (but not Hawaiian shirts) grimly waiting to trade places with the happy travelers that have just stepped off the plane we have to board.

The people walking toward us on the tarmac look so familiar. We were them just a few days ago.