Key West

So my sister of another mister Mirta was due over to house and dog sit, and Wifey and I took the SUV to LOL, for breakfast. We knew we had a three hour drive ahead of us, and didn't want to risk starvation.

I took 152 Street to the Turnpike, and soon enough we were on the Overseas Highway, headed for Key West. I never tire of the drive -- the colors of the sea and Gulf are surreal, and driving through the unique Keys mix of luxury and weathered, white trashiness, is wonderful.  We drove straight through, and in less then three hours pulled into the End of the Line.

Our room wasn't ready at the Pier House, so we left the bags and started to walk. I paid homage to my late father in law: he was famous for making dry runs to any new destination the day or so before he had to go somewhere new, and so we walked to the Key West Theater. It was only an 8 minute walk from the hotel.

We went down Greene Street, and popped into the Gallery there -- seeing an old acquaintance, Nance Frank, who owns the place. She looked up a Mario Sanchez poster we had bought in 2000. She said she'd buy it back from us for three times what we paid. Nah -- I really like it -- colorful Key West street scene.

Nance brought us up to date on the local arts scene. She was having a big event for her new hot artist, Peter Vey. I asked if he shouldn't change his first name to Oy. The Jewish Conch appreciated the humor.

We got a call that our room was ready, and so headed back and to the Beach Grille, where two free drinks awaited. We also had some fish sandwiches, and toasted our arrival.  Around 7, we left for the theater.

The Key West Theater is a renovated church, originally built in the 1800s. Of course, since it's Key West, there is a scandal in the history: the minister killed his wife and children there when they learned of his adulterous affair. Supposedly now there are ghosts...

We didn't see any of those, but we DID see a crowd where Wifey and I were the youngest -- hundreds of folks in their late 60s through 70s -- little makeup on the women, and all Grateful Dead follower-type garb on the fellows. We loved it.

In Miami, we're typically the oldest people when we go out, especially in Brickell, or Midtown, or Wynwood. It was a nice change to be the kiddies at the show.

And then Jorma and Jack came on. They were terrific -- as two musicians who have played together for 60 years ought to be.  The music took me back to the Planting Fields on Long Island, where my friends and I listened to Hot Tuna, in the 70s.

HT turned me onto the Blues. After I heard their music, I started listening to Muddy Waters, and Son House, and Jimmy Reed. Tobacco Road in Miami became my favorite bar when I came to UM. Robert Cray played there. So did Diamond Tooth Mary. I still love the Blues, and recalled Hot Tuna was why.

They played 90 minutes, and took a break. Then they played another 45. They ended, and instead of leaving the stage, Jorma said "Just make believe we're leaving and you're going to call us back for an encore. We're too old to go through that, and think of the time we all save!"  And so they played another few songs. Wifey really dug them, too. We left elated, and walked home on Duval Street, among the very drunk, and a few young hookers.

Wednesday we slept in -- so much so that D2 had called from NYC and couldn't believe I didn't text her back until 10. Roosters crowed all night, but I slept through their call. It was an epic great night's sleep.

We decided to walk the mile to Blue Heaven, down Whitehead Street. I related tales of my cases to Wifey, with the colorful cast of Key West lawyers and judges.

Blue Heaven was packed -- at least a 2 hour wait. Nah -- we had been there several times -- weren't going to do it.  We went to a French cafe across the street, and I saw an empty table. The host said the wait was 30 minutes. "No -- I'm saving that table for a party of 4," he said dismissively.  We dismissed him and his attitude.

We walked down Thomas Street, and the Blue Macaw beckoned. We got a table on the street, and listened to a singer we couldn't see -- she was hidden behind banyan trees. Wifey thought she sounded like a black woman; I envisioned Maria Muldaur. I got up to check - we were both wrong -- she was a pretty blonde.

After breakfast, we walked past the Southenmost Point -- tourists lined up for the picture with the buoy.

We found a quiet spot, between the Southernmost Hotel and the Reach Resort, and walked to the water. I spoke to my parents for awhile -- Dad intended I commune with his spirit at the sea, instead of a graveyard. I honored his wish -- still amazed that he's gone nearly 37 years, and Mom gone nearly 6.

And we walked and walked and walked -- all through the quaint streets, back towards the Bight. We put in over 4 miles.

I thought about taking a sunset sail, but it was overcast and windy -- I didn't want to invite seasickness to our little vacation.

So at 4:30 I headed to the Chart Room, and ordered a Stoli Orange martini. A nice couple at the bar was visiting KW for the first time, from rural Minnesota. We became fast friends -- I told them the Chart Room's history, including the fact that it was where Jimmy Buffet got his start, and also it was the first place in the US where Bob Marley played.

Wifey joined us, and joked that she thought my personality was far more Minnesota than Miami. She's funny.

We left our new friends, and headed to Mallory Square. We watched some of the performers, but, alas, no sunset that night. So we headed over to Bagatelle, our favorite restaurant.

The food was delicious -- a lobster tail and grilled grouper, with asparagus and sprouts. Our waiter took a photo where we replicated a pose from a picture of us in Key West from 1984. We posted it on FaceBook -- sort of a before and after.

I thought we looked exactly the same as we did three and a half decades before, except for my gray hair. Wifey thought I needed to get my eyes checked...

We went to a cookie store on Duval, and I bought us a cookie to share -- for $7. You haven't really been to Key West unless you get ripped off somehow.

We fell asleep, again to the rooster crowing. I guess no one had told him his gig was for mornings only.

Yesterday we awoke, had coffee on the balcony, and checked out. Wifey napped through Marathon and Tavernier, and awoke as we approached Islamorada. She looked up breakfast places on Trip Advisor, and one was straight ahead -- the Midway Cafe.

It was lovely -- brightly painted, and owned and run by women. They all seemed very happy -- I inferred it was because they were all lesbians and had no men to drag their lives down.

The waitress saw my UM shirt, and said her daughter wished to go there, but needed scholarships, as the new total yearly charges were about $60K. A couple at the next table asked, in accented English, if that was true -- college in the US cost that much. It was indeed, true, I told them.

They were Swedish, and explained that college was free in their country, as was health care. Scandanavian show offs!  We had a nice talk -- I told them Americans hate taxes, but we pay them anyway -- we just don't like them being called taxes.

They were headed from KW to Miami, staying on South Beach. They asked for suggestions on what to see. I told them about the Wynwood Walls, and Panther Coffee. They were very appreciative and happily Socialist...

I called my California sister, and Wifey and I talked to her all the way from Islamorada, over the Card Sound Bridge, and back to South Miami Dade. We're getting together in April for the first time in years -- in Half Moon Bay, where my nephew and niece live.

We stopped at Aldi, so Wifey could grab a few things. And then a happy homecoming to appreciative dogs -- Mirta texted to make sure we had arrived. We had.

So it was a lovely trip, with music, and food, and drink.

Tonight we're meeting D1 and Joey for dinner in the Grove. And then I have a stint with DadBer Late -- which is Uber by Dad when there is a late trip. D2 and Jonathan are coming in near midnight -- they want to work today before coming home for the weekend.

The Ds and their men have different weddings tomorrow night -- on Miami Beach, and in Parkland. Sunday we plan to celebrate D2's 27th birthday one week early.

So it's been a fine January -- great way to start 2019. And I will definitely listen to more Blues -- thanks to Jorma and Jack.