For Ana and other patio dwellers

Ana and I comiserate, congratulate, kvetch and wax philosophic -- interrupted with brief finger shaking at our kids -- over the phone, each with a cup of coffee (or glass of wine, depending on the time of day) making sure we get the most out of our free Sprint-to-Sprint over the 2,500 miles between us. She wanted to see what my porch looked like, so she could get a good mental image of where I sit when we talk.

So, dear friend, in the chair with the red cushion, right next to the ficus tree, that's where I steal my moments. And, should you ever make it so far south, that blue chair has your name on it. If I recall, that's the one you liked to sit in when it was still in Missouri, right? (It was in my dining room, un-blue.)

I have rearranged it -- duh, you know that inside joke -- since this photo was taken, to keep some of my plants from frying in the steadily intensifying spring sun, but now maybe you can see me, sort of, during our coffee (wine) talks.

PEE ESS: You might be a redneck if all your neighbors have mounted fish on their decks and you have a deer head.

Doing Hemingway Days in style

Ernest Hemingway was perhaps Key West's favorite native son. Every year, dozens of "Papas" roll into town (see one of them in the background on the right) and honor his legacy with look-alike contests, sailfish tournaments, the running of the bulls, and copious rounds of mojitos. Macy prefers enjoying the revelry shirtless, like any self-respecting festival goer would. Now all you old men with beards and big bellies -- throw some dang beads!

Claire's Brownie troop -- Big Pine Key No. 197

candy candy candy candy candy

candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy candy

Throw backs from Panic at Red Rocks in '05

(Photo left) Flath says, "Hey buddy, way to leave me out of the picture."

(Photo right) "That's what I'm talkin' about, give daddy some sugar. Now lets go see a show!"

Roll away the dew

Those of us who have been to huge venues filled with jam fans know what a special treat it is to see someone close up. And free, at that.

Vince Welnick and Gent Treadly played the Big Pine House of Music, and as Welnick looked skyward while doing sound checks, undoubtedly questioning whether the clouds were going to open up and ruin the amphitheatre's ambience, the full moon shone upon a smiling crowd, some of which had stopped by the temporary tattoo or palm-frond weaving booths inside.

“Franklin's Tower,” for me anyway, was the highlight of the show, followed by some “Scarlet Begonias,” and crowd pleasers like “Johnny B Goode.”Just before the last song, Welnick thanked fans for coming out, “take a look at that moon,” he said. And we did, spring's big, fat full moon above the swirling blue-black clouds.

I'm a little jealous that those at the Green Parrot in Key West got to hear “Imagine,” my favorite song ever, but our humble little Lower Keys show got an encore of the Who's “Baba O'Reilly” (Don't cry, Don't raise your eye, It's only teenage wasteland...).

We hope Welnick and Gent Treadly enjoyed their visit to the islands as much as we did. He was a kind soul who came out and mingled with the crowd of Dead heads from way back and the new generation, many of whom came to the show with their parents.

And all of us were surely grateful. Thanks Vince. We needed that. Keep smiling and pulling tubes.

...Some come to laugh their past away
Some come to make it just one more day
Whichever way your pleasure tends
If you plant ice, you're gonna harvest wind

Roll away the dew
Roll away the dew
Roll away the dew
Roll away the dew...

Catch the review of the entire Keys tour here:
http://www.keynoter.com/articles/2006/04/21/lattitudes/lat06.txt

Cheetah, a.k.a. little Stuey

Our cat hates us. Which is why she can usually be found hanging out at the neighbor's house -- either side. First she has two kittens, which were promptly taken to the pound as soon as they were old enough, then a trip to the vet to ensure no more kittens come later, then she gets left outside during Hurricane Wilma, and we return with a blimy German shepherd. "Oh. I see," she said. "It's you again," when Sugar finally came to the Keys for good. The kids tease her, the freakin' dog gets to sleep in all the best spots, and she's over it. UNTIL we bring home fish at the end of the day. Then she delays her plans to kill us all while we sleep and enjoy an assorted melange of sushi. "But I still hate you," she said, "Especially the little one."

Claire: the little lady

Always a notebook in hand, this pedantic little soul constantly reminds us how immature we are. We keep trying to tell her that's the goal, but she's not convinced. Thusly, she's decided that if there must be an adult present at all times, it might as well be her. The rest of us are, well, brats.

Macy sez...

... I have a blue mouth from that huge gumball the bunny left and I get to ride home in the equipment tub ... could life be any better?

Keith surfaces with the prize

Mutton snapper. (Slang: Mutant; snappahhhh.) Jessica is right below the surface, Keith is holding the cero mackeral she shot; a juicy hog (Jessica's humble but sumptuous one-pounder) is in the catch bag. "Woo hooooo," we said.

Nice kill shot, Kip!

We're huntin' all right, but it ain't for Easter eggs...

DATELINE -- Easter Sunday 2005, Deep reef off Big Pine Key. Our mission big fish: grouper, snapper, hogs. Don't we look like bad asses with our spearguns and our big fish? Yeah, we are. Big fishies tremble with fear when they see us coming. Jessica got the skunk outta the bag with a nice hogfish at 80-feet, Keith ups the ante with a 28-inch mutton snapper at 60, and then, just to prove he's the ultimate bad ass, shoots a 28-inch black grouper shoots while free diving at 25 feet. Kip picked off another 28-inch black at 85 feet and at the end of the day, we all decided the Lord blesseth indeed. Snapper taco, anyone?

Sara Jane a love like yours

I'm so proud I cried like a baby ... A BABY!! Jason Gideon Marthers was born weighing nine and some un-god-awful Momma went to the hospital after three days and man, he is worth all that and more. I love you Sara. You're so beautiful and I can't wait to see the new baby and smell his head ... maybe yours too. Zen, girl. Family, blessings, tidings and hapiness to you.

We are but godesses in the wind

Claire snapped this unbeknownst to any of us. I like how she captured, besides our faces to the wind, the upward angle of the ocean horizon as our boat sped forward, leaning forward, as we call it another day on the water. BTW, camera used: disposable. Mom's swimsuit is tied low and Macy is wearing a Bonnaroo original of dad's. Claire: never be afraid to operate best behind the camera ... it's an Oidtman tradition.

Holy testosterone Batman!

They say the bull shark is loaded with testesterone, more so than any other shark, which is also why it's known to be one of the most aggressive. Well, you can guess who had the testosterone pumping when Keith and two of his friends chased this guy down for two miles or so through the backcountry. Kip pointed out that I was swimming with the big toothy beast just moments before it took Keith's bait, to which I still contend that no shark wants a bite of my scrawny butt. We found a mackeral and a couple blue runners in it's stomach, which I'm sure are much more tasty than Jessica meat. Just hope we haven't created any bad shark ju-ju for future dives.

Update: We couldn't bring ourselves to eat it. It smelled so bad. BUT -- we used him (or her?) as crab bait and we brought in a total haul. Thirty claws or so.

Have you met my friend Sandy?

It's a song:
Sandita my lovely ... you play on dee ocean ... Spray off dee boatita ... den come have a beer.
You fishy dee ocean ... you have lots of fun ... Sandita my lovely ... salty goddess of dee Keys.
Sandeeeeeeeeta. Sandeeeeeeeeta. Play all dee time. Play all dee time.
[insert steel drum solo here]

Shaved Shuga

Sugar Magnolia says, "Next time I have to get shaved and a groomer gets cut from the budget, I am totally outta here. This is bullshit. I look ridiculous. No. I can't even look at my tail. I'm like some freak ... greyhound shepherd thing with a huge head and everyone can see my bald ass. Just let me chew on my coconut and don't even talk to me. You all suck."

Captain Ron

Uncle Ron caught a mutton snapper. That'n sa keeper so we gaffed him in. He may look ugly here, but him so yummy with curry sauce.