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Spring Break 2002:
Wasting Away Again

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WEDNESDAY, MARCH 20

To celebrate the first day of Spring (okay, it was really just a coincidence), our Goodship Lollipop trio drives three hours south to Key West for a day.

Random Florida trivia: There are 882 islands in the Florida Keys. Florida has 4,510 islands that are 10 acres or larger in size, the second highest total in the U.S. behind Alaska. The Florida reef tract, extending from Key Biscayne to the Dry Tortugas (200 miles), contains approximately 6,000 coral reefs.

Our trio stayed at the Hyatt Beach House resort, featuring two bedrooms, two baths, kitchenette, laundry and porch overlooking pool. Niiiiiice.

How great are the temperatures in Key West? On the board in the lobby they were listed: Hi 84, Lo 74, and written in permanent marker. Just a three-by-five mile island with historic homes and churches, loaded with good restaurants and bars, plenty of water activities and beaches, Key West is an ideal place to get away from it all.

Random Florida trivia: Key West, Florida, is the top-ranking American city for warmth, with an annual average temperature of 77.7° F; International Falls, Minnesota, is the coldest, with an annual average of 36.4° F.

Not wanting to waste our time on the island, we drove the short bit to the key tourist area near the tip of the island. We walked up and down, all around the main strip, Duval Street, which stretches from the Atlantic to the Gulf Coast (okay, it's only just over a mile long, but that's a decent walk for us out-of-shape folks, that we undertook a few times). Lunch was at Hard Rock Café to get my shot glass, admire waitress Jennifer and groups of college girls on spring break (this would be a constant throughout the visit). I did not, however, ask if any would be my sweet Baboo.

We moseyed amid the bars, restaurants and shops to the Southernmost Point marker, which really isn't but works for our purposes, that purpose being a picture with the big stone that marks the location and notes it is 90 miles to Cuba. Really, the sign should be in Cuba announcing "90 miles to freedom or get rid of the old fat bearded guy in fatigues."

Time for a drink break on South Beach, which had a fabulous breeze, (more) foxy chicas and (more) beautiful scenery. Would've liked to take a dip in the ocean, but we had other mountains to conquer, or in this case, sunsets to watch. Besides, I'm afraid that some people would mistake me for a beached whale and would keep dumping buckets of water on me to keep wet.

So back north along Duval to Mallory Square, where hundreds upon hundreds gather for the sunset, one of the main "happenings" on Key West. It reminds me of the movie City of Angels - an otherwise awful film - when the angels congregate at the beach for sunrise. In their case the sunrise was the song of God, on Key West the song is of Buffet.

Key West History

Key West's 'live and let live' attitude is rooted in a twisted, varied and often puzzling history. Originally called "Cayo Hueso" - Island of Bones - one can only conclude that Key West was once perhaps a burial ground for the Caloosa Indians, but no one has found any bones to date. Ponce de Leon claimed Key West for Spain in 1513, but it came under British rule in 1763. Key West officially became a city and a part of Florida in 1826.

It was once the richest per-capita city in the US with fortunes being made in the shipbuilding, sponging and salvage industries. In fact, "wrecking" actually became a regulated industry in Key West until the 1840's when the first lighthouses were erected in the Keys to guide ships around the treacherous reefs.

Henry Flagler's Overseas Railroad reached Key West in 1912 and operated until 1935 and is the foundation of today's spectacular Overseas Highway.

In the 1930's, Key West was no longer a rich city. The main industries had moved elsewhere and even the US Navy had pulled out. But a renaissance began with the realization that Key West's climate, history, architecture, reefs, and waters could make it a Mecca for artists, writers, and overly-stressed mainlanders.

Restoration, renovation and preservation have become a way of life in Key West. Homes built by the shipbuilders of the past with wooden peg construction and "carpenter gothic" gingerbread are lived in by the spiritual, if not linear descendants of those artisans.

Source: Fla-Keys.com.
The scene is certainly festive, since there are plenty of vendors, crafts, and street performers ranging from women dressed/painted in all white mimicking statues to a lady juggling fire on a unicycle to a guy famous for his trained cats. Unfortunately he didn't juggle them while they were on fire.

We sat on the Sunset Deck of the Hilton Resort by the pier and enjoyed the second floor overlook, as the sun set at 6:25 to a round of applause. "Yay, God!"

TREEmendously calm atmosphere, too. You forget that there is an outside world. It had me wondering if people even knew back on Sept. 11 that anything happened, since we hadn't paid any attention to the news while on the island. Did tourists still come to watch the sunset? Was that the best or worst sunset they ever saw considering the circumstances, that they made it through the day?

Still, among this calm (and unnerving thoughts of the real world) I was a bit dismayed. I had an urge for a milkshake while waiting for the sunset, and the Hilton didn't serve them. I walked 200 yards along the pier to an ice cream shop, only to be told that they were out of milk for the shakes. Two hours later I tried again after dinner but the place didn't have enough bananas for a shake and was out of vanilla ice cream, but I didn't want a vanilla yogurt shake. It took until over 12 hours later, outside of Key West at a McDonald's during the drive home on the mainland before I got my vanilla shake. A man should never have to wait that long for a milkshake in Florida.

Dinner was a Crabby Dicks', a great little seafood place, eating on an outdoor deck upstairs overlooking Duval Street. Yes, you read me right, its called Crabby Dicks'. Note the strategic placement of the apostrophe, which changes the meaning from naughty to cute. Although, the apostrophe placement is still odd, since placing it after the 's' means there was more than one Dick, because solo Dick would be Crabby Dick's. (Whoops ... am I using my out-loud voice again? Sorry about that.)

BTW, I also realize even more so after this trip that I get my analytical geekology from Dad, such as is obvious from the previous paragraph.

On the walk back we finished a bit of shopping and enjoyed people-watching the surrounding activity, from families shopping to college spring breakers looking to get some action after getting wasted away again at Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville (dang, I miss college), street performers with their instruments, and honest bums ("Got a dollar? I promise to drink with it and not buy food.")

By 9 we were pooped and ready to enjoy our nice expensive room for a spell before checking out in the morning. Danielle and I went down to the pool for a swim, then settled down to watch "The Best Damn Sports Show on Television" (it is, by the way), then enjoyed a long night with my head cushioned on three comfy pillows. Or was that my full stomach and three chins?

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THURSDAY, MARCH 21

Check out at 10, breakfast at IHOP, then Dad obliges my worries about the Southernmost Point picture from the day before (the sun was creating some nasty backlighting so I can't guarantee the pictures came out at all) We quickly drive over, hop out and snap a few pics, hop back in the Jeep and drive home, trying to stay patient and not run over all the tourists driving 40 mph on impassable two-lane roads from Key West to the Fla. Turnpike on the mainland, three hours away.

We waste away the rest of the day watching The Players Championship golf tournament, then the NCAA basketball tournament. Duke loses, and my bracket immediately starts trying to leap in the trash can. Another year, another embarrassing conjecture. By the way, the Duke guy was FOULED at the end after rebounding the missed free throw! I wuz robbed! I haven't been misled that badly to pull for the losing side since ABC promised me that Wil E. Coyote would catch the Roadrunner in a primetime special.

Part of the reason for not doing so much activity on this trip, unlike previous vacations where I'm adventurous and full of energy, my lower back is still acting up and hurts if I exert too much energy, notably standing around for fifteen minutes or more. As a result, I'm listless, and as an example, rather than squeeze past ten people to get to the aisle during the ballgame Monday, I'd just as assume sit still and dehydrate, wait until the seventh inning stretch and use the opportunity to squeeze out to get food and water to re-hydrate.

Not to mention the medicine I'm taking makes my stomach ache. I can't even enjoy a good walk around the block with Vicky due to being in pain after twenty minutes or so. So I moan and talk to myself for her to "go ahead and poot already, and stop sniffing that light pole." Sorry, Vicky.

Egad, I'm not even a man anymore. I should just put on the Indigo Girls and watch Priscilla, Queen of the Desert every day.

But no fear, as those singing Bards of Wilson Phillips once crooned, "Don't you know, things'll change, things'll go your way, if you hold on for one more day." Amen, sisters!

Random Florida trivia: Dr. John Gorrie of Appalachicola, Florida, invented mechanical refrigeration in 1851. He patented his device on May 6, 1851. There is a statue which honors this "Father of Modern Day Air Conditioning" in the Statuary Hall of the capitol building in Washington, D.C.

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FRIDAY, MARCH 22

R&R Day. Lazy Day. Sit on the couch and bloat day. Whatever you want to name it, the day was pleasant. Dad and I watched some golf, Danielle finished some homework during her spring break, then Dad and I went to see The Time Machine. My review is so-so, but Dad wants his time back, even though you can't change the past.

This may come as no surprise, but Miami drivers are bad. Really bad. On the way to the theater complex, in the span of five minutes, we saw two drivers run over the curb while either dialing or talking on their cell phones. Later I was almost broadsided by a lady looking left and not right, where I was coming from, because the phone glued to her ear blocked her view. Miami drivers have a death wish as it is, so the phone doesn't help matters. They're very aggressive, and if you don't adapt the teensiest bit while driving in the area, you'll be trampled. Therefore, when I ride with Dad I say my prayers first, as his years in Miami and South America have afforded him daredevil tactics of his own.

Okay, so maybe Miami drivers aren't the worst in the world. The AP reports that last week had the deadliest single day of road accidents in Iran, when 122 people died and 2,000 were injured in more than 900 different accidents. More than 200,000 wrecks occur in the country every year, with some 15,000 deaths. Not even restoring Halle Berry's license could even out those statistics.

Still, I hold to my point that driving in Miami is like being attached to the Pit of Despair from The Princess Bride; every hour spent on the road is like sucking a year from your life.

Hey, where are you going? Don't click on Bookmarks!