Keys: The Finale

It's been exactly a week since I left the Florida Keys. The time since then has not ceased to slow down. My last day in the Keys was Wednesday, Feb. 20. I spent the morning hanging out with a hostelite I had met down there. A quick note: want to know why I hesitate around people who ask for favors? Cause of guys like this. The dude was staying at the hostel and was going to be kicked out cause he couldn't pay for any more nights, but another hostelite with a kind heart lent him money so he could stay. Nice enough. Well, I befriended the two of them and eventually hung out with this guy a few times. On my last day, literally that morning, he broached the topic out of the blue of me lending him money. Now, here's the thing. He spent days telling his sob story about why he was there and broke. The kind of story one would feel sympathetic towards. I did. Family troubles, crazy ex-wife, took the kids, etc. As we hung out, he dropped what now feels like strategically placed stories about getting his taxes back that Friday and having to keep them from his ex-wife. He mentioned how he would pay back the other hostelite three-fold for her gesture. He even pulled out his smartphone (yea, a smartphone...oh, he also had an electronic cigarette...nice way to divvy up those finances) and showed me his tax receipt as, 'I don't like people to think I'm a bullshitter.' It was an awkward moment. After that, I felt enough that I needed to get away from him for a bit to think and to write a tad, so I excused myself, told him to meet back at the hostel and went to a pier. While on the pier, I ran across this sight: Some asshole had caught a baby hammerhead shark and left it for dead on the pier. Kind of a jerk move, unfortunately to my benefit as I got this photo. After the pier I went back to the hostel. I had promised a ride to the other nice hostelite that day on my way to Miami, so I waited for my roadie pal. The other guy was there waiting. Thinking it shameless of me to not at least help the guy out considering his circumstance, I lent him $35. Not a lot, but that would feed a frugal person for a solid four or five days. He was grateful. Told me he'd pay me back when he got his taxes. I wasn't expecting it, but he said the words, so I was like, hey man, whatever you feel is necessary. Needless to say, I haven't heard a word from the guy since nor has the other hostelite. Friday came and asked her if she'd heard form him, 'Nope.' She didn't know, but he had told me he was going to pay her back. She had told him not to. SO when she said she hadn't heard, I knew right away something was up. His story felt too good. *sigh* I hope I'm not just being an asshole. Maybe something came up. Maybe it didn't. Either way, experience is the best teacher and I've experienced a disproportionate number of money-lending that resulted in my feeling the fool.

Rewind: JFK, Lee Harvey and me

As I passed through Dallas, I made sure to catch the scene of the crime. Here it is, for all to see: The Dealey Plaza display of how the entire assassination went down. A total artsy shot of a tattered American flag overlooking the plaza. The mysterious man in the grassy knoll...so wonderfully coincidental that someone was standing there when i got this shot. The window from where Lee Harvey fired on JFK. This guy may have done it... A view from the bridge which would have been looking down on the scene, gives a great vantage of the size and scale of the entire scene. The view from the knoll. Pretty crazy how close it is.

The Keys 2

I awoke on Sunday morning with a wonderfully raging hangover as to be expected. My new pal Dean and I decided to go for breakfast and went to Denny's (which has spectacular breakfast deals). In a wonderful paradox, my main course of pancakes cost me two bucks yet a side order of bacon cost me 3.50....the first time I have ever witnessed a side order being a greater cost than the main meal. Wild. Afterwards, I decided to bust out my bike. The previous morning I had made the trek to a local bikeshop and bought a lock so now I was set to explore the island via cycle. WHat a great idea to bring a bike. It made the island much more accessible. I followed the perimeter of the island on the south side on Roosevelt, which is essentially an oceanview drive. It was spectacular. Except my trip was cut short halfway when bike issues forced me to u-turn and head back. The back wheel was warping because a pair of rear-bike wires were broken, thus allowing the frame of the wheel to warp out of shape. The tire was rubbing against the kickstand and looked like it could potentially cause an air leak. I figured I would use a car tire allen-wrench and take the kickstand off, but upon returning to my car, I discovered the sizes did not match. So I removed on of my patented wrist elastics and jimmied the kickstand in a way that kept it from rubbing against the wheel. This solution allowed me to use the bike the remainder of the trip. Damn, it felt good to be a gangsta.

The Keys

I arrived in Key West on Friday afternoon. Google said it was going to be an eight hour drive. It wasn't even close. It took me about 5 and a half hours. Stupid Google — that stock price is going to plummet. As soon as you get south of Homestead near the tip of mainland Florida you realize you're heading into a unique place. Key West is an archipelago, so you're essentially driving on coral reefs for 100 miles. I ended up chatting with a couple of my hostel roomies, Dean and Sean, and we decided to go down Duval Street for the night. Dean is an Australian who worked as an accountant, hated his job and quit to travel the world (like me!). He's been on the road for five months and been all over the place partying. He says he's spent close to 40 grand. My heart hurt. Meanwhile, Sean has been travelling about for a few weeks and is headed up to Salt Lake City! He mentioned how he was kicked out the same hostel I stay at last time he went. Crazy. Duval Street is wild. We got ourselves a drink beforehand, sitting inside a liquor store eating chicken and drinking then slipped down the road into an Irish bar. Somehow, we lost Dean cause he was chasing down a cougar (and this morning he tells me, 'Yea, she was 43...but she was alright!'). Sean and I made due, listening to the live music and drinking Guiness. The singer played Wild Rover so I got a kick out of being the only person in the bar who knew the words and would yell, 'Ride up yer kilts!' as da boys used to do at Shillaleghs. I encouraged Sean to heckle the singer with me and ask the guy to play Dirty Old Town, since it WAS an Irish bar. He ignored us. We wandered down the road and jumped in and out of bars for a while, getting turned down by a big black bouncer at one place for being too intoxicated (true) but unwittingly ending up inside by a different entrance so when we left by the original entrance, he grabbed a hold of us and started ranting about his coworkers letting people in like us who he said couldn't go inside. Beautiful. We just stood there and played dumb. I was the drunkest person on Duval. For sure. I don't remember much after that except falling into bed and throwing in my ear plugs. That as they say, was that.

Before Sunset

It's been two weeks since my arrival in Florida. My goodness, time flies. It is a peculiar phenomenon when one thinks, 'What I could do with two weeks of nothing.' and then two weeks of nothing later, you wonder where it all went. I have spent my days reading and writing, lounging by the pool — which is, I'm sorry to gloat, as awesome as it sounds. I have worked on some of my screenplays and even began work on a television series (please, none of that basic cable garbage. HBO-style, baby). It is a tough pursuit because so many people think themselves screen writers, one can never be sure their work is good. Screw 'em. I find it soothing. It provides me a creative outlet and I feel enthusiastic for hours after developing a great idea. Since my uncle arrived I have taken up tennis and think I may stick with it. Apparently I got a wicked awesome forehand. I swing it two-handed which apparently is unusual. However, it feels quite natural to swing the racket and chase down shots. It requires good cardio, good footwork, concentration and quick reflexes — my specialties! I am excited for my trip to the Keys. I leave Friday and spend four days there. I plan on exploring as much of the place as I can. To sign off, a beautiful picture of the sunset on a balmy, spring night in Florida.

The Beach

The beach. I don't think I could ever get tired of the two great wonders of the world: mountains and oceans. I'll have to get back down to the beach a few more times. Unfortunately the day I went was balmy for twenty minutes and overcast for an hour and a half. Either way it was great. Some dramatics have occurred which have altered my plans. Originally, the plan was to relax in Florida at my grandmother's for the month of February before taking off South for the Florida Keys. Well, the Keys and I will be hanging out sooner than later. I am being kicked out. Perhaps it is not as harsh as that, but I am being gently told to leave for a couple of weeks. The grandmother in her later years has developed exaggerated personality traits she that at one time were inconveniences that are now full-blown obstacles. Oh well. Looks like I will heading down to the Florida Keys sooner than I anticipated. Boooyaaaa!

Pictures

I thought I would post a series of my favorite pictures from my drive across the USA. Picture one is on Saturday, Jan. 26 as I drove from Salt Lake to Grand Junction, Colorado. I believe it's the 191 South near the town of Price.

Picture two is on Sunday, Jan. 27 from the I50 through Colorado en route from Grand Junction to Denver. You can't really tell but there is a river on the right which means the elevation is not too bad at that point.

Picture three is not too far after picture two. You eventually clear the canyon beside the river and the rock changes to this spectacular red. These formations on the left of the highway (north) while to the right (south) was mostly just hills.

This was taken on Jan. 28 in Texas. I thought, no wonder Americans call it 'God's Country'

I am driving in Texas through a town called Childress along the US 287 en route to Dallas-Fort Worth. All I remember thinking is 'The American and the Texas State flag flying high...beside a McDonald's. How American. '

Cowboys Stadium in Dallas. A blight upon the land. The picture doesn't even do it justice just how disgustingly massive this thing is. I could literally hear Jerry Jones giggling, 'Greed it good.'

Yes, that truck is resting on the side of the trailer. Yes, that truck was not secured by any straps or harnesses. Yes, it was stupid to drive close enough directly behind it to get a picture. Yes, it was worth it.

No words needed.

Jan. 29. This is what is called abuse. It was bizarre, I actually saw $$$ bouncing behind me on the road like a Super Mario game or something when the odometer clicked to 70,000 km.

Jan. 30 in Gainesville, FL. Go Gators!!!

An East coast sunset to end a badass roadie.