Machettaville

Langerado!

2008-03-18T16:00:00.000-07:00

Well, we again ventured into the swamplands of South Florida for the four-day musical extravaganze known as Langerado. We loaded up the shaggin' wagon -- a.k.a. 1984 Ford Econoline Clubwagon Van -- with our family of four, add one child -- Morgan, a friend of the kids -- and three more adults: Amy, Alisha and Randall.

After getting lost somewhere in the middle of the Mickosukee Indian Reservation, finding a little gator hole place called Debby's Crab Shack to refuel, losing our tickets and almost our wits, we set up camp. Randall and Alisha ran off to catch the Wailers while I stood in line at will call to get replacement tickets to cover the ones we lost, which we can only presume flew out the window at some point near Debby's Crab Shack.

The first night of shows, after we set up camp (including three tents and an awning at the back of the van) reminded us of why we do this time and time again. The first night of torrential rain reminded us of why we put up rain guards on our tents, which Alisha and Randall skipped. We found them in the back of the van in the morning. While we were drying out all of their stuff and engaging in a friendly game of bocce ball (that is SO fun -- we must get a set!) sheer winds started ripping through, lifting Randall and Alisha's tent up off the ground in tumbleweed fashion and just ripped the kids' tent up completely. There was no saving the kids shredded tent, which was some 1956 version of a tent we found in our camp stuff complete with aluminum poles (think very triangular, nothing bends) and a "Missouri Trails" logo on it. The kids would be the ones to inhabit the back of the van from then on, which was probably the sweetest spot in the camp since the sheer winds were followed by freezing weather. Well, freezing to us island dwellers anyway. It got down to like 48 or something.

The last day, while the kids were doing one of their infamous walks of shame (picking up trash all over the campsite because they were getting snippy and snooty and 10-year-old girls are pure evil), they got out of my eyeline, so I started walking after them. When I stopped to look around, I noticed I was standing on a mound of fire ants. Of course, it took me a minute because fire ants don't actually start biting until about half of them are up to your knees. Trying to not completely freak, I brushed them all off, yelled at the girls to hurry back to camp and trotted like a little pony back to our tarp. I doused my legs with cold, bottled water and instantly knew why they call them fire ants. It's not because it feels like fire when they bite, it's because when they're attacking your legs and climbing ever upward, you want to douse yourself in gasoline and light yourself on fire to get them off with a quickness. Now it appears they -- as a communal tribe throughout the world -- have spread the word within their little ant mounds, complete with Internet access I presume. I say this because that was the first time in my life I'd been bitten by a fire ant, much less dozens of them, and just this week AGAIN one bit me on the toe while I was at Claire's school. Maybe I taste like watermelon.

To see the complete lineup of audio treats at the fest, visit langerado.com. For me, the Beastie Boys was the absolute pinnacle since I've never seen them before AND they were as good as they were in the 80s; REM because I made it to the front row, albeit Amy and Alisha didn't beeline there with me and I saw the show solo; Built To Spill's performance of "Strange," my theme song; State Radio, a band I've never seen but shows great promise on the jam scene; Gov't Mule, which I think even the kids really enjoyed; and of course Phil Lesh and Friends, the grand finale. They whipped out an awesome "Dark Star," which was nice to lie down in the grass and watch the stars to mid-show, and ended with a supped up "Casey Jones," with an ever increasing rhythm that was trully indicative of "drivin' that train, high on cocaine." Phil's got himself a lineup that Jerry would be proud of, and, funny thing, the whole night seemed to be Jerry all the way.

Did I mention the glow puppet? Or Melon-head Dude? Or the guy who freaked out and left a smorgasboard of drugs at our camp site? The short bus? Painting the van? No? Well I guess you're going to have to find your own damn festival to understand. Look hard, you might see us there, too! We'll be the ones wrapped up like Jihads in Mexican blankets.

No I won't back down...

2007-05-27T12:15:00.000-07:00

Macy, playing first base, faced opponents both fierce and mighty, but didn't take her eyes off of 'em no matter what.

Go SHARKS!

2007-05-27T12:07:00.000-07:00

Macy played spring ball for the mighty SHARKS this year. Quite funny. Most of the kids were more content sitting in the red dirt and drawing in it with their fingers, but occasionally a group feeling of enthusiasm would take over and they would actually prove that they absorbed some of the fundamentals that Coach Jay and Coach Andy tried to teach them. Today was the closing ceremony for the season, all of them got photos and a trophy. But best of all, mom and dad don't have to be at the ball field at 9 a.m. on Saturdays anymore!

"Going Home"

2007-04-15T07:59:00.000-07:00

By Ken Araujo

2007-04-15T07:33:00.000-07:00

Key Deer photographed on Big Pine Key by Ken Araujo.

Key deer, an endangered species, used to roam the Keys (yes, they can swim) from Key West to Grassy Key, a 60-mile span. Now they only reside only on Big Pine and No Name keys. It's illegal to feed them, but people do it all the time. And I can't say I blame them. At full size they're about the size of a full grown dog.

Claire says, "Mmmmm... money."

2007-04-15T07:32:00.000-07:00

The pizza's pretty good too. See "No Name Pub" below.

No Name Pub

2007-04-15T07:04:00.000-07:00

We live at the very edge of Big Pine Key, just before a bridge connects it with No Name Key. (Isn't that a great name for an island?) Anyway, about a stone's throw from our house is the No Name Pub. A place deeply rooted in Keys history and a great place we ride our bikes to and get pizza. Read on...

In 1931, the pub started as a general store and bait and tackle shop.

In 1936, the owners added a small room on to the main structure which became an eatery. Thus the pub was born.

Early customers included people from all walks of life, including the local fishermen and world travelers who arrived from the mainland via ferry.

The late 1930s brought an interesting twist to No Name Pub history. In an effort to increase business, the upstairs storage room was converted into a brothel. Unfortunately, the venture failed after several years as the fisherman were reported to be better looking than the ladies.

The 1940s saw the end of the brothel and the burgeoning Keys tourism base began to increasingly discover the quirky, out-of-the-way place. The ladies would do their shopping in the general store as the men would browse the bait and tackle shop, then kick back and have a beer and sandwich.

During the 1950s the general store and bait and tackle shop closed and the pub became, well, just a pub. "No Name" was added to the already "Pub" and the landmark was born. The honky tonk atmosphere of beer drinking, pool shooting and great food became known from Miami to Key West and the place would get so smokey and crowded the customers would spill out into the backyard where dice, craps and card games would eventually break out. The old timers say the place never got raided because the sheriff ran the dice games.

There are a few stories that explain why every inch of wall and ceiling in teh place is covered with dollar bills.

One is that everyone who knows anything about commercial fishing knows its like any other job that relies on Mother Nature for abundance. Seems its either really good or really bad. So in times of abundance, the fishermen would tack a few dollars on the wall with their names written on them, so that when they were flat broke down the road, they could come in and be able to buy a beer or two.

The other is that the 1970s and 80s was the rowdy time in the Keys, when Jimmy Buffett's "Why don't we get drunk and screw" played on the juke box and the biggest source of revenue for many Keys residents was running drugs from the Caribbean. There was a lot of illegal money passing through the island chain and everyone loved to spend it. They had so much money they started hanging it on the walls.

Who knows, maybe one led to the other and both are true. Either way, local lore says the owners have estimated the amount of money on the walls at around $15,000.

Outside, our miniature deer can be seen munching on the foliage. (See the Key Deer photo on this site.)

The pub's slogan is "A nice place if you can find it," and if you can, well then, you can find us too!

Macy sneaks off with a scissors

2007-03-27T17:51:00.000-07:00

And this is how Keith found her.

But Mom and Dad were HAPPY

2007-03-27T17:45:00.000-07:00

And heard some rockin' good tunes. Even if Macy ended up with the best seat in the house the whole time and Keith came home with a very, very sore back. We were dirty, exhausted and broke when we got home. The true signs of a successful getaway.

But it wasn't all Sunshine Day Dream

2007-03-27T17:42:00.000-07:00

An errant octopus balloon landed on us, which was fun for about two seconds -- then the fighting began. So Mr. Octopus made a quick exit, moving on to the next round of heads and hands.

AND we brought paints... (I did the red dots :)

2007-03-27T17:30:00.000-07:00

"You don't want what he's handing out"

2007-03-27T17:06:00.000-07:00

We saw the Capt. Good Time with his pink hair later on at the Widespread show handing out a tray of ... something. The girls perked up and Keith told them "no way" pretty quickly. Good thing we had smuggled in all those pop rocks.

Euro bungee backflip

2007-03-27T17:03:00.000-07:00

Macy barely weighed enough to get higher than maybe five or six feet off the trampoline, but Claire managed to master backflips and everything. Heck, I would have tried it myself if I didn't think those few beers would have come back up!

Fun stuff for KIDS

2007-03-27T16:58:00.000-07:00

Langerado's "Kiderado" included a Euro bungee and rock climbing wall. The kids wore out their wristbands on both.

Wood nymph

2007-03-27T16:54:00.000-07:00

It wasn't the shining paradise of the Keys in Sunrise (West Broward, inland, Florida) but it did have it's natural charms.

Langerado

2007-03-27T16:47:00.000-07:00

In early March, we finally made it the Langerado music festival in Sunrise. It was our firt "show with the kids." We all survived. There was a New Orleans-style kids parade, glow sticks aplenty, and of course, Widespread was the headliner. Perhaps one of the best moments was when Michael Franti and Spearhead busted into a reggae jam medley of "Sunny Days" -- you know, the Sesame Street theme. Everybody got down. Note to our fellow hippie friends with kids: Opt for the nearby hotel with continental breakfast and pool. Camping is fun, but I'm glad we were able to take showers and smuggle muffins back to the room for cartoons before heading off to the festival each day. I'm not sure any of the photos above need explanation, so enjoy! Oh yeah, to see the lineup and the highlights, visit www.langerado.com. We'd be happy to take you all with us next year!

Bolt

2007-02-18T07:22:00.000-08:00

One of Keith's old constructin buddies from Columbia passed through while he was in Florida for the Daytona 500 and some other stuff. His name is Joe, but everyone calls him Bolt, a name his ex-Amish brethren gave him because he was known as being very bold to leave the community.

[insert your own caption here]

2007-02-18T07:06:00.000-08:00

The nudey beach

2007-02-18T07:01:00.000-08:00

There's some private waterfront land that the owner lets locals visit so long as they don't mind that it's pretty much known as the nudey beach. One night Keith and I decided to check it out at night on our way home and had fun taking silly pictures of each other. We kept our clothes on.

A poodle, of course

2007-02-18T06:57:00.000-08:00

Sketch the Clown made a poodle, complete with leash, for Macy at the Terry Cassidy Pickin' Party on Big Pine Key.

One more...

2007-01-28T05:13:00.000-08:00

Here's the "official" shot from the sunset cruise before all of the free champagne.

OK, OK, now the lovey dovey shot

2007-01-21T06:32:00.000-08:00

With a big side of menace, that is! Well, the Champagne was free.

Boondocks Sunset Cruise

2007-01-21T06:26:00.000-08:00

Keith's "red-headed step brother" Andy took a few pics of us on the way back from the cruise on the Caribbean Spirit. After the requisite lovey shot, Andy said "gimme love, gimme hate, gimme sexy, gimme happy, gimme said ... gimme ... WE GOT A BABYSITTER TONIGHT! And this ... is the resulting shot.

Keys car

2007-01-21T06:21:00.000-08:00

Saw this down at the Key West harbor and had to take a pic. Not only does the license plate say GRIZWALD but there's a Deadhead sticker and one that says Just Married Chapel by the Sea.

The un-monkey

2007-01-21T06:16:00.000-08:00

If I couldn't get a monkey, I would get one of these -- a tamarin. When the Monkey Jungle people weren't looking, I fed them through the cage: raisins and cranberries (you buy monkey food there at the park, which is boxes of dried fruit). They're like a cross between a squirril and a person.

Java Monkey

2007-01-21T06:11:00.000-08:00

If I ever get a monkey, I'm getting one of these. They swim for their food. That way, when I live on a sailboat one day my monkey can dive for lobster for us. Wishful thinking, but hey, if you're going to live on a boat or even by the sea, why not get a swimmer monkey?

May and King

2007-01-21T06:05:00.000-08:00

Two star attractions at Monkey Jungle, or, as Keith calls it, Junkie Mungle. Both May, the orangutan, and King, the gorilla, do fun tricks like dancing and sign language.

Monkey Jungle Birthday

2007-01-21T05:53:00.000-08:00

Macy picked Monkey Jungle, just south of Miami, for her birthday venue. So we hit the Grassy Key flea market for boiled peanuts on the way there, went and saw the monkeys -- dad's shoulders offered the best viewing during the shows -- and then went to the Homestead Speedtrack for video games and go-carts. We also stopped by Wal-Mart (first time in three years; we don't have Wal-Marts in the Keys) for a new Little Mermaid bike. Fun was had by all.

Allison Lesley Bass McGuire

2007-01-08T18:54:00.000-08:00

Jennifer Bass and Sean McGuire are the proud parents of this little Christmas dumpling. Jenn says she looks like her, but I'm not so sure. I see some Irish eyes a smilin' in there somewhere. She was born at St. Mary's Hospital in Jefferson City, Mo., Dec. 16 at 4 a.m. (on the button) 6 lbs. 10 oz. (not playing the part of a preemie much, eh?) and 18 in. long. Many hugs and kisses to all! This is her on Christmas Eve, dreaming of sugar plum fairies I'm sure.

Go, go Godzilla!

2007-01-08T18:24:00.000-08:00

I told my friend Ana about our exotic invasive species -- the iguana. Fun to see hanging in the mangroves, yes, but not so fun as they strip your hibiscus to a twig in a matter of minutes and leave big poops on the patio. Here's our resident reptile, named Godzilla by the neighbor boy, Thomas.

Invasive species (also called exotic species, bioinvaders): Organisms are introduced into a foreign ecosystem, by humans, either intentionally (e.g., crop plants, feed animals), or unintentionally. Introduced within a strange ecosystem, where the inhabitants are adjusted to each other and their environments, most introduced species die, unless taken care of by humans. But, particularly if ecosystems are already disturbed (e.g., by pollution, global warming) , and particularly in warm climates (no frost), some thrive and become pests.

In laymen's speak, what this means is that someone or someones had pet iguanas and set them free, much like the famed "alligator flush" in the movie, and they -- not having any natural predators and finding the tropical climate much like their own native environment -- multiplied like rabbits. Mmmm. Rabbits.

Butt, I love you!

2007-01-08T15:03:00.000-08:00

one fish, two fish

2007-01-08T14:58:00.000-08:00

Three ballyhoo fish! I got to test out my new sweet Christmas custom rod with a new Shimano reel, and we brought the kids' reel for Macy, but she was content playing with the bait. Who knew dead ballyhoo could sing, dance and poke each other in the eye so well?

A collision of stars and how it all works

2007-01-04T20:13:00.000-08:00

Thinking about birthdays and astrology and how we all fall under our signs, I found this on a blog -- http://armchairfrog.blogspot.com/2005/03/aries-sign-of-spring.html -- and ripped it off. I cracked up several times and hope you all can appreciate it too....

Aries - The Sign of Spring

This is a compact Spring. The equinox was just a few days ago, the full moon was last night, and so tomorrow is Easter. All the energy of Aries is roaring away. But then, Aries is an energetic sign, it wants to get stuff done.

Taurus says "Hey, wait a minute. Are we actually accomplishing anything concrete here? I think we should let it all settle and stay put for a while."

Gemini: "Well I can see your point. But action is good too. Maybe we can have lots of change, yet consolidate what we have as well."

Cancer worries that all this is too disturbing, and wants to take care of everyone, making sure that people come first, whatever the circumstances.

Leo is grateful for this confidence-giving support, and goes out to entertain the world, full of good cheer.

Virgo, usefully, wants to make sure that things are in order and that Leo does not get too far away from home base without adequate organization and a plan.

Libra understands that this irritates Leo, but agrees with Virgo too. She tries to avoid any disagreement breaking out and insists that everyone calm down.

Scorpio, in this climate, has to keep really quiet about his intentions, for fear of being forced to be agreeable. Best to keep quiet.

Sagittarius can't be bothered with all this caution and plotting and just goes ahead and does what he wants. Most people don't even notice.

That's not good enough for Capricorn, who wants to be able to see concrete and accumulating results of her actions, and works steadily towards that sensible goal.

Aquarius is not so happy about this ambitious way of operating, and doesn't think it is right. Aquarius feels he understands the way people ought to behave, and is very willing to explain it to everyone, whether they want to hear or not.

Pisces gets confused. If you tell people what to do, like Aquarius does, people don't do it. So what's the point? What should we do or say, then? What do we want? What do I want?

Then Aries comes back in saying "Oh for goodness sake. Stop being so self-involved. Just DO something." Then she brushes aside all nay-sayers and does things.

So Taurus has to pick up the pieces and show Pisces that there are things he can rely on. Just stay home and ride it out.

Gemini likes what Capricorn did quite a while ago, but loves to agree with Aquarius's wisdom too, so writes poems about it.

Cancer is proud of all these clever people, (though she would appreciate a little more respect) and tells them all to do their thing.

So Leo does. People think he's cool.

Virgo keeps the records and files all the programs.

Libra says “isn’t that nice?”

Scorpio is heartily sick of all the chumminess, and plots to escape.

Sagittarius strikes out for freedom openly, and messes up Scorpio’s plans.

Capricorn gets cross with them all, and demands order.

Aquarius tells them this discord is destructive, and to stop being so selfish.

Pisces feels crushed, and sulks in a corner.

So then, back comes Aries again. “Oh I am sick of all this gloom. I’m going out.”

And off we go again.

Happy Birthday Macy!

2007-01-04T19:17:00.000-08:00

Our baby turns four Jan. 12, the same day my mother and Aunt Kathy turn (much older than they'll ever be to any of us). This photo was taken when she was about a year and a half, just after we moved here. And in my mind I always see her this way, discovering the world for the first time every single day. The more my daughters grow, the wider the parallels between them become. Macy, our modern dancer who never misses the chance to sway to the rhythm of our lives; theatrics orchestrator who can demonstrate a surprise with more gusto than even the most seasoned actor; singer who creates long ballads for the entire house to enjoy as she sits for a while on the potty; Spanish goddess who enchants us with each roll of the tongue; toughman who bounces and rather than cry, gets mad and kicks the offender whether human or object; self-proclaimed (as dubbed by fellow pre-schooler) "kissy face" who has enough love to share with anyone around her; master cuddler who, no matter how late or early in the day, will wake up and wedge herself solidly between her mother and father; and braveheart who has enough moxy to ask the question everyone else is avoiding -- "how did you lose your arm and where can you get another one?" -- we admire how much you've grown and how as we have fostered you, you have raised us too. Never let go of 4-years-old my girl.

Claire, freshly nine, asked the million dollar question on our way home from work yesterday. You know, "how did you get pregnant with me?" So there we were, and there I was, driving across the Seven Mile Bridge after a loooong day of brain-straining wordsmithing, reminding myself before I opened my mouth (not my forte by the way) that I had but one chance to give an answer that would shape a future of womanhood. Be short, accurate and to-the-point, I said to myself. Be clinical while sparing the gory details and loving without being mushy. And I did. I offered the classic intro of "when a man and a woman love each other very much" and ended with the sperm fertilizing the egg (no it doesn't look like a chicken egg, we giggled) that begins to grow a baby. Next -- a long silence. But I was satisfied with my answer, being unprepared for the question and all (how do you cram for that one, or rather, have you been "cramming" for a long time but never had to scale it down to the elementary school level?) More silence. "That... is sooo... gross." More giggles. All was well with the world. Next question. Which was why women get periods. I explained that "funny you should ask" because it's all the same theme, and thank God we were almost home to keep from going to whatever topic was about to follow. And just like when she asked about the Chinese tradition of food-binding, I assume I'll print some info off of Wikipedia and let her study it as long or as short as she wishes. And touche, My Claire de Lune, may you hang onto nine for a very, very long time.

Michele and Claire

2007-01-04T19:10:00.000-08:00

Rarely does a friend come along in this world that loves you, your kids and your pets with such warmth. Appreciate them when they cross your path -- and offer you a glass of wine ;)

RIP Bubba Buster Rooney Bubbaroo Adams

2007-01-04T19:01:00.000-08:00

What a proud old man, friend to man, friend to Sugar (in the background chasing the elusive coconut), Luke, Zeus and all other creatures. Surely his patience for men, children and creatures, no matter how scruffy and obnoxious, serves as a lesson to us all. After nearly two decades on the sand and sea both far and wide, he peacefully passed and moved on to the proverbial doggie heaven. May he greet us with loud barks of welcome when we arrive on our own passage.

Cyberslacking

2006-12-30T09:57:00.000-08:00

Please check out the links posted on the righthand column of this Web site to keep up on the commerce we and our friends are making careers out of -- but if you want to waste time and have some fun, visit these. Also, if you want me to link your biz site to my links, let me know!

www.engrish.com
www.mycathatesme.com
www.elfyourself.com

There are some great face-morphing sites I pulled off the wire at work -- I'll add those later.

Here's McClatchy Tribune's top picks for 2006:

Web Search: Best of 2006 online
By Randy A. Salas
McClatchy Newspapers

As another year draws to a close, various Web sites have started posting their "best of 2006" selections. Some of these sample lists don't cover typical subjects, but, hey, this is Web Search.

TOP BABY NAMES If it's Aidan or rhymes with it, BabyNames.com (www.babynames.com) likes it for a boy's name. The site's more than 1 million members listed Aidan (Aiden, Aden) as their favorite boy's name. Their top boys' names of 2006 also included Caden (Kaden) at No. 2, Braden (Brayden, Braeden) at No. 3, Jaden (Jayden) at No. 4, and Hayden at No. 11. Ethan was No. 5. For girls, Ava was tops, followed by, in order, Abigail, Cailyn (Kaelyn), Madison and Emma.

WORD OF THE YEAR "Truthiness," coined by Stephen Colbert of Comedy Central's "The Colbert Report," was picked by visitors to Merriam-Webster's Web site (www.m-w.com/info/06words.htm) by a 5-1 majority vote as the word of the year. Colbert said it means "truth that comes from the gut, not books." The American Dialect Society formally defined it later as meaning "the quality of preferring concepts or facts one wishes to be true, rather than concepts or facts known to be true." The rest of the top five: "google," "decider," "war," and "insurgent."

TOP NATURE VIDEO National Geographic News (news.nationalgeographic.com) recently announced its biggest stories of 2006 (www.startribune.com/a2069), a list topped by the revealing of the Gospel of Judas. But more interesting, certainly from a visceral standpoint, is National Geographic's best videos of 2006 (www.startribune.com/a2068), topped by amazing footage of a giant Pacific octopus battling a spiny dogfish shark in an aquarium.

TOP SCAM The Consumer Affairs Web site (www.consumeraffairs.com) says that after evaluating the 50,000 consumer complaints it received in 2006, its top scam of the year is a growing scheme in which victims are told they have won a lottery in Canada or Europe and must pay various fees to collect it. One Kansas man lost $300,000. "You can't win a contest that you didn't enter," one official reminded consumers.

FUNNIEST POLITICAL QUOTE Politics are a funny business to pundit Howard Mortman, aka Extreme Mortman, so it's only natural that he compile his list of the funniest political quotes of 2006 for his blog (www.extrememortman.com). Sen. Ted Stevens' comment that the Internet is "a series of tubes" seemed like a shoo-in when he uttered it in June. But then Sen. John Kerry came up with his much-publicized zinger to top Mortman's list: "If you make the most of (education), you study hard, you do your homework, and you make an effort to be smart, you can do well. If you don't, you get stuck in Iraq." Kerry later said that he was trying to make a joke, but that it came out wrong. "We'll believe him," Mortman said in explaining his choice. "But not without a price."

BEST VIRAL VIDEO Forget the top movies of 2006. IFILM has weighed in with its best viral videos of the year (www.ifilm.com/collection/18220) _ the kind of clips that are passed around by e-mail and posted on blogs and other sites. Top candidates included comedian Michael Richards' racist tirade during a show, news personality Connie Chung massacring "Thanks for the Memories" and comedian Judson Laipply performing seemingly every dance move of the past 50 years in six minutes. But the winner was "Brokeback to the Future," a hilarious faux movie trailer using existing footage to suggest that Marty McFly and Doc Brown had a more personal relationship in the "Back to the Future" films.

TYPO OF THE YEAR The must-read site Regret the Error (www.regrettheerror.com), which tracks mistakes in the media, honors Reuters for creating the typographical error of the year in a story about a recall of "beef panties" (www.startribune.com/a2072). What kind of buns go with those?

(Randy A. Salas is a columnist for the Minneapolis Star Tribune. Do you have a favorite Web site or a question about how to find something on the Internet? E-mail websearch@startribune.com or go to his blog, www.startribune.com/websearch.)

All snug in their beds

2006-12-30T09:49:00.000-08:00

After a birthday outing to Ripley's, Sunset Celebration, Hard Rock Cafe, a ghost tour on the way back to the van and a stop at the Looe Key Tiki to dance a couple songs, it was back home for the screening of "The Princess Bride." From left, Macy, Jackie, Claire, Reanna and Sabrina. Five girls on a sofa bed, Christmas cookies and one tired mama. Wouldn't you know they kept me up until 2:30 a.m. It was a magical evening to be 9 -- or 32.

Silver Man rules!

2006-12-30T09:43:00.000-08:00

Of all the buskers at Sunset Celebration, perhaps it was the Silver Man that the girls were most enthralled with. Is he a statue? Nope, there's an ear wiggle. Throw a few bucks in his bucket and he'll oblige with robotic high-fives for all and even leave a little silver on your hand! Surely the best souvenir of the evening!

A bird on the head...

2006-12-30T09:16:00.000-08:00

Is worth two in the Head Zoo? We never miss an opportunity to chase the resident fowl in the sculpture garden at Mallory Square for the Sunset Celebration. Call me chicken, but this overprotective mama chased us on this visit!

Funhouse mirror

2006-12-30T09:03:00.000-08:00

A distorted Sabrina and Macy during our outing to Ripley's Believe It Or Not! for Claire's 9th birthday soiree in Key West.

A walk home from the tiki?

2006-12-30T09:00:00.000-08:00

Obviously, somebody leaving Looe Key Tiki had a few two many to be driving, and some other poor sap probably had a long walk home!

Merry Fishmas!

2006-12-24T06:40:00.000-08:00

You're a mean one Mr. Grinch

2006-12-16T05:52:00.000-08:00

The cops frequently set up a speed trap across the street from the Keynoter, which is great entertainment on a deadline day, but it's never really front-page photo worthy. Except when the Grinch comes to help them run radar. He was waving speeders over to the side of the road and yes, they were ticketed. Talk about steeling cheer!

Keith and Crystal

2006-12-16T05:42:00.000-08:00

At the Boondocks party -- this is Crystal, who Keith works the bar floor with every weekend. She's a deal!

Actually, I did find one

2006-12-16T05:39:00.000-08:00

Kelly took this at Keith's Christmas party at Boondocks. A photo of me with makeup on. That almost never happens.

Long day

2006-12-16T05:28:00.000-08:00

Jessica in the girls' room doorway, trying to round up the troops. Not looking my best, or even close to it, but it's rare that I'm in front of the camera.

Go up the stairs

2006-12-16T05:20:00.000-08:00

And welcome to our place. It's a Bahamian (and hence Keys) tradition to put a conch shell outside your front door as a sign of welcome and good luck. The Bahamians were some of the first settlers here and Keys natives call themselves "conchs." For a fun story about our wacky history (as in 1980s history) look up The Conch Republic -- www.conchrepublic.com -- when we seceded from the U.S. in protest to Bush Sr. politics.

The backyard

2006-12-16T05:18:00.000-08:00

With your back to the canal, this is what you see.

Our house -- a photo tour

2006-12-16T05:12:00.000-08:00

Looking down our canal, which comes out into Bogie Channel. We're on the bayside now, but only about a half mile from the ocean side. Then it's only about six miles to the reef.

Wine charms

2006-12-15T19:35:00.000-08:00

Keith frequently comes home with fun bar goodies from Boondocks, and right before Thanksgiving, brought me a set of wine charms. You know, those little charms you put on wine glass stems so when you're having a party everyone can tell which glass is theirs.

They're from Ravenswood (yum) and one said "No whimpy wahns y'all" and another one said (see photo) "No vinos sin huevos."

So, at our Thanksgiving feast, I proceeded to ask everyone who knew any spanish at all what the heck that's supposed to mean. We determined vinos -- wines, and huevos -- eggs. Wine and eggs ... no wine and eggs?

I sent the photo to Melody, our production goddess at the Keynoter who is from Uraguay, and she said it means "No wines without eggs." I don't understand, I told her. And she repeated it. "No wines without eggs." Then I thought about it. And remembered the southern drawl version stated above. "Is eggs slang for nuts?" I asked. Now I was confusing her. "Balls, testicles," I said. "Oh. Yes," she said.

Mystery solved. No vinos sin huevos. Your fun new phrase of the day.

Claire and Thomas

2006-12-15T19:27:00.000-08:00

Kept Sugar busy playing stick while they talked about ... well, what is it 9-year-old talk about out these days? I was keeping a safe distance and couldn't evesdrop, too much. Oops, looks like I was spotted!

kids in the hood

2006-12-15T19:18:00.000-08:00

Claire is now officially a "tween." The right clothes and not looking like a dork are of the utmost importance. She still claims boys are grody, but not too grody to hang out with from time to time apparently. This is our neighbor Thomas, who can usually be found outside for some good fun.

the secret of salt

2006-12-15T19:05:00.000-08:00

A cool literary journal, which you can find under my links list, just came out. The publisher, Kim Narenkivicius, gave me the preview copy on disc and now that I have the bound copy, the loose print-out pages have become Macy's art paper pile. Reduce, reuse, recycle peeps.

When the going gets tough...

2006-12-15T18:46:00.000-08:00

...the tough wear underwear on their heads. Also a good tip for breaking up the cleaning-my-room doldrums, I hear.

It's a new Flath!

2006-11-03T19:06:00.000-08:00

Grace Elizabeth Flath was born at home in Seattle to our dear friends Matt and Stephanie. She weighed 7 lbs. 10 oz. Hmmmm, that's what Macy weighed, exactly. And at home. Macy-Gracie? Hey guys, you may be in deeper than you ever imagined!! Love you all! Can't wait to see her and smell her head.

Fantasy time

2006-10-28T07:14:00.000-07:00

This is just before I hosted Keynoter TV in a blue wig for our Fantasy Fest show. The ice godess in white is Sandy, and of course Macy just thinks Mom's a weirdo. And she's right. But hey, that's why I make the big bucks. Ha.

Chicks with guns!

2006-10-19T04:48:00.000-07:00

We didn't do so bad ourselves, even if none of our fish were 36 inches. The grouper I'm holding is a scamp -- first time I shot one of those. We'll see how he tastes. In this shot, from left to right, it's Jessica, Jessica, Rachel and Rachel. Maybe that's why we had a lucky day.

Big blacks

2006-10-19T04:43:00.000-07:00

Here are Keith and Jeff's prizes, shot on a 90-foot ledge at American Shoals off Big Pine Key.

Just hangin' out

2006-10-15T07:39:00.000-07:00

Rare moments of peace

2006-10-15T07:19:00.000-07:00

Keith must feel like he rode the one-man testicle train into a house of crazy ladies at times. But there are, in between full moons and other alignments of the cosmos that send us into tearful fits for seemingly no reason at all, times when we must seem so sugary sweet we may melt if it rains. This is one of those moments.

Macy does gymnastics at home, too

2006-10-15T07:11:00.000-07:00

The girls' new room is tiny, at best, just like our last place, but at $1400 a month for a two-bed, one bath (and our washer and dryer is in the bathroom, which is a first for me!) they can live with it. Claire likes to ask me why she can't have her own room, and I like to reply that as long as I have to share a room, she does too. Then I like to remind her of when she spent the night with the Hale family. They have five kids and all of them live aboard a 38-foot sailboat -- that's two cuddy bedrooms. I'll have to post a photo of them somewhere on here. They sailed off to other islands -- the Turks and Caicos -- a couple months ago.

The mountain

2006-10-15T07:04:00.000-07:00

Down our street, the girls discovered a "mountain." Hey, doesn't take much to qualify in the Keys, where the highest point above sea level is about six feet, K? Anyway, it's from years ago when they dug out a canal and left the fill in a pile, which is now overgrown with pines and mangroves. Our new neighborhood is full of fun stuff like this, including a 9-year-old neighbor boy next door, Thomas, who has a swingset. Sugar likes the mountain too.

The front yard

2006-10-15T06:55:00.000-07:00

We've only got the top half, the rest is hidden by Oleander. Some guy and his surly teenage daughter live downstairs, but they're moving out at the end of the month. We're hoping we can "recruit" our new neighbors. The people on each side of us are very nice; we can deal with the loud rednecks across the street. They're far enough away (not sharing a wall with us) that they're pretty much just comic relief. It is the Keys after all, you're going to be a stone's throw from drunk, toothless retards no matter where you are.

Our new place

2006-10-15T06:42:00.000-07:00

30827 Baileys Lane. Mmm, Baileys. So this is our backyard, where we park the boat. We're on the bayside of the islands now, not the oceanside, so we're finding new fishing spots and all the crab traps you see stacked on the dock can go back in the water today. Stone crab season begins Oct. 15. Mmm, stone crabs.

Gymnastics

2006-10-15T06:33:00.000-07:00

Macy takes gymnastics every week at her new preschool, Banana Cabana. She loves it. Here is Miss Jan helping her do a back walkover/headstand.

Rabbit fever

2006-09-19T17:48:00.000-07:00

I got such feedback from my farfegnugen column, mostly things like "I can't believe you published a photo of yourself with a mullet," and such. Anyway, I thought I should post it here and the color version of the infamous photo. Here goes... (Nice socks, Michael.)

Farfegnugen: A coming of age

I've had the Patrick and Eugene not-such-a-hit “Birds and the Bees” song in my head for a solid week now as I dream of driving my brand new little Š white? Silver? Black? Volkswagen Rabbit. As long as it's a diesel.I'm listening to that catchy little tune on the Internet now as my 8-year-old dances behind me making pokey motions at my head. She's trying to irritate me, but -- Moohahaha! -- if she only knew.
Gas conservation is important, and I'm as green as any, and the Rabbit is cute, has that Volkswagen reliability and solid suspension to be sure, but none of those reasons is why I want one so badly.It's for exactly what Volkswagen is banking on: Nostalgia.
See, we had a big Crown Royal bottle up in the kitchen cabinet when I was a kid. Whatever change it had in it by the time summer came went to the family vacation fund. In the early '80s, when I was going into fifth grade and my older brother into eighth, summer vacation was in the middle of a gas crisis.But no worries, my dad smiled from ear to ear as he whipped our brand new ride into the driveway. Gone was the Oldsmobile, in was the Rabbit. A bronzy-orange-brownish diesel Rabbit. It was cutting-edge front-wheel drive and everything.
Could we make it across the country, a family of four, in a four-door economy car? Sure! Could we pay for gas with the contents of the Crown Royal bottle and still have plenty left for souvenirs? Sure! Could we get straight to Disney World without stopping even once? Su... oh. Wait. I guess when my parents were planning our “educational trip,” that didn't involve Mickey Mouse.
Washington D.C.? My brother and I were deflated. Well, maybe he wasn't so into Mickey Mouse, but I don't think the White House was necessarily his idea of fun, either.
In the end, that trip was educational all right, but not in the way of learning how our great country was formed.
All the talk of the Smithsonian National Air and Space museum, the Civil War battle grounds we'd visit in Tennessee on the way, and then again in Pennsylvania on the way back could not make us smile as we posed for a pre-departure photo in front of the Rabbit.
Two weeks, two suitcases.
One back seat, two kids.
One big brother, two smelly feet in my face.
One 1983 family budget, two college friends in Virginia we could all stay with.
One couch there, two hours commuting to D.C. proper.One SBD (silent but deadly) filling up that tiny car and we knew it was all over but the crying.
Oh, and there was crying.I'm positive my parents yearned for the trips we made before then, when my brother and I would ride in the camper shell on the back of the truck and all they had to do was slide the rear window shut to keep from hearing us.I know we did. At least we had John Denver and Kenny Rogers on 8-track we could jam out to in the camper. We could stretch out, play cards, not even have each other in our respective periferal vision if we weren't speaking at that point.
No, no, not in the Rabbit. We were one, tightly compacted, happy family. “Blue Eyes Cryin' in the Rain” had been replaced with the steady drone of NPR.
I've taken my kids (and the dog) on cross-country trips in our 1984 Ford Econoline van, a rental mini-van, an airplane, and even in a Jetta I used to have. But not a Rabbit. And that's just the kind of learning how to love your sibling fun I just don't feel right about them missing out on.
And what about when my brother lost his retainer at the space museum and dumpster diving ensued? Or when I planted my feet on the stairs in front of some museum and refused to enter “just one more?” (I think my dad was glad for that one, actually; he opted to sit outside on a park bench with me and watch homeless people with me while my mom and brother went inside.)
Several days of driving two hours into the city in plenty of time to make our 7 a.m. tour had taken it's toll. They wouldn't even let us lie down -- or, try to lie down -- to sleep on the way because they were paranoid about using the HOV lane when four people were not in plain view. Ever try sleeping with your face pressed up against the window in a Rabbit? I'm sure it was at least comical for the people we were passing.
Or the chronic gas that follows too much fast food? Perhaps having to walk alongside a father who, despite his knowledge that ‘80s fashion did not include plaid madras shorts with homemade “Jesus sandals” and socks, packed every pair he owned. Or the three cameras he wore around his neck for each trip?
Or how wonderfully uncarbonated real Amish root beer is? And what Amish cheese smells like after a few hours in the Pennsylvania sunshine because, you know, there's no room for a cooler in a Rabbit.
Or leaving a brand new, plush Garfield stuffed animal at the hotel, only to realize it several hundred miles later?
The utter joy they are missing out on is breaking my heart, and I know that deep down, only a VW Rabbit can make their lives complete.
Just imagine my joy at stumbling across the “VW aims at nostalgia niche” headline. The article quotes, "VW needs more emotional models." (Just how emotional, these people have no idea).
I also found a “create your own Rabbit” tool on VW's Web site. Which I did. Somehow my “starting at $14,900” turned into $26,000, which isn't exactly my idea of an “economy car,” so it looks like we'll just have to wait a couple years.
Now that I'm thinking about it, if I wait until Macy's in fourth grade, Claire will be in eighth, and I can pick up a nice used model. Carry on the tradition, so to speak. It's the perfect plan.
And if they think we're going to Disney World, they're crazy. I don't care if Walt Disney was from Missouri.

Dancing Queen

2006-09-19T17:16:00.000-07:00

Claire had her first school dance the other day. Planned the outfit. Planned the hair. Practiced dancing in the living room. I had her stand in front of her school's mascot, which I affectionately refer to as the "trippin' dolphin" -- she doesn't get that one yet -- before we entered the cafetorium, where the dance was hip hoppin'. She said she didn't dance with any boys, only her girlfriends, had some pizza and soda and all in all a really good time. Except she got there after Sam the DJ played the Cha Cha Slide, which she was bummed about. (That was one we practiced in the living room the previous night. And Cotton Eyed Joe and a few others.) We determined at that point that both of us are way too caucasian to do the "bootie wiggle," which I'm sure is a talent her Latino friends are just born with. Oh well.

How I accidentally ended up in Cuba -- the story of airport hell, meeting new friends and old ones...

2006-07-29T06:12:00.000-07:00

This is my column -- The FlipSide -- in this week's L'Attitudes. And yeah, Rebecca, I put your photo on the cover to tease the story. Now you're famous. Or is that infamous?

Accidentally ending up in Cuba

By Jessica Machetta

OK, so it was Cuba, Mo. In fact, one could visit Paris, Versailles, Mexico and Japan all in the same day - all Show Me State-style - if they wanted too, but I don't recommend it.What I wanted was to board a direct flight from Miami to St. Louis, then do the reverse to get home three days later, just as I'd booked tickets to do more than two months ago.

I drove to Miami last Thursday with a happy feeling in my heart. Excited to see my girls, my family, my friends - gifts for all in my suitcase.One missed exit, one traffic jam, two incomprehensible sets of directions (Spanish-speaking only), a call to my friend Jenn who talked me through it all while she was on MapQuest, two full parking garages and a broken suitcase later, I was laughed at when I asked at bag check if there was any way I would make my flight. I opted for the later flight to Atlanta where I would make my connecting flight.

Or so I thought.In Atlanta, after being sent from Gate T to Gate C than back to Gate T, I was told the flight was delayed one hour. Which is why it was funny when I returned 15 minutes later to a locked door and no gate attendant. (OK, well now it's funny.) I and another girl (also told it would be one hour - we'd gone two gates down to suck down a quick ciggy) practically had siezures in front of the window trying to get the pilot's attention.

Then we ran both ways trying to find another gate attendant. No dice. Sweating and waving some more, we freaked out together, much to the amusement of the people who had already been waiting around for hours upon hours, trying to get to Chicago where weather was a problem.

“Why didn't you wave at the window?” the attendant asked.We told her we about stroked out we were waving so much and she said something like, “That's strange, usually the pilot sees that and tells me to come back and get the passengers.”But that would be luck, something that was not on my side this time.

After booking a 7 a.m. flight the next morning, my new friend said she was taking the same early morning flight and that I could stay with her at her condo.I was incredulous.“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it's no problem. We'll take the train to my house, shower, book a cab for the morning and come back,” she said.

“Um, I'm Jessica, by the way,” said.

“I'm Rebecca.”

So I accepted. Once at her condo, she remembered she'd given her house keys to a friend. When he showed up with them, he determined we both looked like we needed a drink. Indeed. If you're ever in Atlanta, there's a great little pub in Midtown called McCray's. It's next to the gay district.Once back at her place, we decided we better not sleep at all for fear of missing another flight. The next morning, er, three hours later, our cabby never showed. We found him at the Krispy Kreme on the corner, sleeping.

Back at ATL, I tried to print my boarding pass at a kiosk (Rebecca's printed just fine) and it said to see an attendant, who shooed me to the back of a long line. Fighting back tears, I waited for what seemed like forever. Finally it was my turn.“I'm showing that you made your destination last night,” the lady told me.

Are you kidding me?

OK, more hustling.

Rebecca waited for me at the head of the security check line and let me cut in. That's what new friends do for each other.

“We have time for one, quick cigarette,” she said. “Wouldn't it be funny if we saw our Chicago friends in there?”

The previous evening, we had met Alex and Wendell, two strangers-now-friends, who were punch drunk after a multitude of delays. They were supposed to finally board at the same time we were.We walked into the smoking cage, and there they were. Apparently, Chicago was so backed up, their pilot decided he “didn't want to do it.”

One cigarette, a few laughs about our combined misfortune, well wishes and we were off. We landed, promised to stay in touch and split to find our respective families.

I got my rental car, which had Wisconsin plates, so when I missed my exit - again - I didn't look too foolish asking for directions. I knew something was wrong when I started seeing signs for Cuba. It was raining like crazy and there were tornado warnings for most of the St. Louis region.

People were calling into the radio stations talking about how they'd been without power for two days and it was sweltering. Ironic, considering last time I came from St. Louis into the Keys it was the day after Wilma. Seems I have a knack for traveling into chaos.

Needless to say, on the return, after lots of good times with my friends and family back home, I headed back to the airport six hours before my departure time. I wasn't taking any chances. As is Murphy's Law, it took me and my girls all of 20 minutes to return the car, check in and get to our gate. So we ate and shopped, shopped and ate.

We went to the gate to see if we could board early and get going on a nap.

“That flight's been cancelled because of mechanical problems,” the attendant said. He tried to send me to Vegas for a connection. I said no. Chicago? No.

“Well where do you want to go?” he asked.“Somewhere in Florida would be nice,” I said, starting to get snappy.

One of my favorite movie lines, “It's good to want things,” didn't provide any comfort as I stood at my gate, two tired children in tow, crying on the phone to my friend Vala in St. Augustine.

“They don't fly into Jacksonville,” I squeaked. (I start losing my voice after several days of little to no sleep.)

“Yes we do, yes we do,” the attendant interrupted.

“I'll see you about midnight,” I told Vala.We were at a table having a snack and a drink, again, when I said to my oldest daughter Claire, “Tell mama not to cry, everything's going to be OK.”

“Mom, you might as well go ahead and cry, everything is not going to be all right,” she said.I stared at her. “Just kidding,” she said, “everything's going to be fine. We're going to go see aunt Vala, right?”

And we did. And it was. We went back to JAX the next morning, caught our flight back to MIA, got our car and headed for the islands.

Would you believe I hit mini-season traffic as soon as I got on the turnpike? I bet you would.

So to Rebecca, Alex and Wendell, what a long strange trip it's been. And you never know how many potential new friends await your arrival in the smoking section.May all of your journeys be safe ones.

Jessica Machetta is the editor of L'Attitudes. She can be reached at jmachetta@keynoter.com.

Banana Cabanna

2006-07-27T20:12:00.000-07:00

Macy loves her new school. She let me take this ONE photo with my cell phone before she ran inside to meet her new teachers and classmates. She's growing like a weed and is for sure too smart for us all.

Pit stop St. Augustine

2006-07-27T20:08:00.000-07:00

Vala, Kev, Stryker and Ursula: It was so good to see you all, even if for just a few hours. I guess if you gotta take a screw from the airline, this is the way to do it! See you all on the flipside.

You're beautiful baby...

2006-07-27T20:04:00.000-07:00

Keep repeating it Sean. You're doing good. Say it again. AGAIN! Now try this one: Can I get you anything baby? Rub your back? Some ice cream? You're so beautiful. Sooooo beautiful. And sexy. Throw that in there a lot too.

Ron and Karen

2006-07-27T19:53:00.000-07:00

Uncle Ron drove all the way to the airport to get me ... and I wasn't there. You've already heard this story. But no worries, he still hosted a cookout for us before we came home. Ron and Karen are like mother hens. Don't get too worked up about anything and always big hugs to share. And I got to see Fabian and Rachel's new little boy, Fox, and Jenn and Sean showed up too. Sean got lots of pregnant women stories, poor boy. Rub the belly Sean, just rub the belly. Repeat after me, "You're beautiful, honey." Keep repeating for the next seven to 56 months, however long it takes! And mean it, dammit! Dinner, of course, was fabulous. Nothing like good ol' homegrown Missouri ribs. Except maybe mutton snapper, right Ron?

ten and two, ten and two

2006-07-27T19:34:00.000-07:00

Nothing like having your kid drive you around for the first time. Claire perfected her driving skills before I got there, so no, we did not end up in the blackberry patch. Thank goodness. We got to the end of the lane, and as if I hadn't trekked that path a ga-jillion times as a kid, she said, "Hang on mom, it's a little bumpy in this part." It was a glorous tour of soybeans, the creek, an old Pontiac shell my brother dragged up there years ago, corn, old air conditioning units apprently now used for target practice (didn't get to shoot any guns this time, darn it), more soybeans ... and soybeans. Oh, and hills. It was good to see hills again.

Sara and Gideon

2006-07-27T19:29:00.000-07:00

New mama! Sorry Sara and Jason, but you're doomed with the next baby because this kid is sooooo good that you are in for a treat with No. 2! Claire was unimpressed -- yeah, yeah, babies -- Macy was enthralled, I just wanted to smell his head. Working on that second one yet? Uh huh! Good job you guys. He's beautiful. You're beautiful. We're all pretty beautiful.

Annie

2006-07-27T16:48:00.000-07:00

Annie K -- my artist. My muse. My practical dreamer. We're all going to see her name in galleries one day. Somewhere on this blog I posted a buncha reasons why I love me Annie K. You're going to have to look for them. I have more photos to post.

Ana and Chrissy

2006-07-27T16:22:00.000-07:00

We girls all got together at Sara's house for some wine, food and yes, lots of good conversation. I've got the most beautiful friends in the world, you know. Aren't we a buncha sexy dames? Both of these chicas have had two kids. And look at 'em. Dead sexy, both of 'em.

Dad's jeans and farm scenes

2006-07-27T15:46:00.000-07:00

When I was growing up, my dad played a lot of Cat Stevens on the reel-to-reel. It's become my favorite comfort music, and perhaps the one that is closest to my heart is "Very Young." It's a song I don't recall hearing so much as a kid, but one that reminds me of the fragility of life, children, and dreams.

Quite fitting that on Highway W, just after leaving the farm to head back home, it came over the radio. I turned it up loud and the girls and I sang along. I didn't cry, but I wanted to. The best line in the song is about dad's jeans. I took a photo of dad's jeans on the clothes line while I was there, fluffy clouds, corn and all.

Sing along for a minute:

Oh very young what will you leave us this time?
You're only dancing on this earth for a short while.
And though your dreams may toss and turn you now,
They will vanish away like your dad's best jeans,
Denim blue fading up to the sky.
And though you want them to last forever,
You know they never will.
You know they never will.
And the patches make the goodbye harder still.

Oh very young what will you leave us this time?
There'll never be a better chance to change your mind.
And if you want this world to see a better day,
Will you carry the words of love with you?
Will you ride the great white bird into heaven?
And though you want to last forever,
You know you never will.
You know you never will.
And the goodbye makes the journey harder still.

Oh very young what will you leave us this time?
You're only dancing on this earth for a short while.

Oh very young what will you leave us this time?

Me and my bro

2006-07-27T15:16:00.000-07:00

I think this is when my brother was asking me if I ever had problems with boogers getting caked up around the inside of my nose ring. Guess he's always wondered that. He's a cop now and is loving it. Seems we've both gone through some life changes that have been good for the soul. Thanks to him I'm a crack shot and one tough cookie. Never thought I'd say this, but thanks for beating the crap out of me on a regular basis, Michael. I'm a better woman for it. See you in church.

Meeting Rebecca

2006-07-27T14:55:00.000-07:00

This is the girl who graciously took me into her home when we both got missed our plane in Atlanta. She's the one on the far right.

Her name is Rebecca Saferstein. She's a paralegal. She taught me to say "Oy vey, I'm schvitzing" when it's crazy hot down here. She grew up in Miami so I guess she would know.

She was on her way to Peachfest, an annual family reunion tradition in St. Louis. I'm glad I met her. Not only was she my savior, but she's a neat person and a lot of fun. You never know where life's little mishaps will lead you. Our little airport mishap led us to a McCray's, an awesome little pub in the gay district of Midtown in Atlanta. Sweet!

Hangin' with the boys

2006-07-02T17:18:00.000-07:00

GRANDMAAAAAAAA'S ! ! !

2006-07-02T17:12:00.000-07:00

Note and photos from Grandpa...

Ms. Jessica and Mr. Keith:

I am sending a few photos to show you the kids are doing just fine. We dug a few potatoes, went to Jackie and Harold's to see the chicks and slide downtheir slide and of course driving the golf cart. We went swimming too. The kids are doing very well. Patty took them to the drug store and bought each of them a stuffed animal and told them to be real good in the store. Patty said that when they left the woman said, "My, those are really nice kids."Or something like that. Macy is such a sight. Jessica, she will probably be like you in that they may ask you if you want them to move her ahead agrade or two in school. Patty says Macy didn't say she was sad last night. She was probably too worn out to care. Anyway they are beautiful kids. Claire practiced a few times driving the golf cart but ran into the blackberry patch on her maiden flight. She was all upset but got over it and is now wrestling with the boys.

My raft expert

2006-07-01T07:30:00.000-07:00

My friend and fellow writer Matt Lawrence says that tiny foam raft was made by pouring gasoline to shape the foam into or onto a wood frame and the notches indicate they left with food and water because after 4 days with nothing on the open water you're done. And the bundles of twine on board were for fishing while they were out there. Talk about sushi, ick.

"Not many make it on those types of rafts," he says. "Back in the 90s, three out of four that tried, died."

He says the empty ones floating out there are called "tombstones at sea."

He's an expert on the situation because he used to fly over the Atlantic looking for rafters and helped in rescues. Wrote a gripping novel about it called "Dying To Get Here: A Story of Coming to America." Got to www.mattlawrencebooks.com and check it out. Then buy it and read it because he's when he gets rich from the book sales he's going to hook me up.

Tools of survival

2006-06-29T04:56:00.000-07:00

Dying to get here

2006-06-29T04:38:00.000-07:00

The calm, flat seas of summer are what the Cuban people wait for each year, when they take their makeshift rafts made of whatever they can find and set sail for America. We found this one on the shore of a local hidden beach on Big Pine. Judging by the clothes left on board, it looks like there was at least two men and one woman. Judging by the broken hammer, rusty nails and balls of twine, the refugees were prepared to make repairs as needed on the way. Notches on one of the wood strips say they were at sea for about 13 days to make the 90-mile trip to the United States. Jenn says the title of this photo story should be "Salvation." Macy tries is out for size, which you can see is pretty small for such a big journey.

"Noodlepants" Pillar

2006-05-31T18:08:00.000-07:00

These are the victims of Hurricane Wilma and this is these are their stories. (Actually, the story that goes with this photo is posted below, but I just wanted to sound all dramatic and stuff like the TV show.) Note: Just as the experts tell us, proper surivial gear is mandated if you're going to stick out a storm in the Keys. Scott models his state-of-the-art gear, personal floatation device (noodle-seat floatie), waterproof clothing (Hefty garbage bag) and shelf-sustainable foods (Budweiser). Now let's have ourselves a hurricane party!

Happy Hurricane Season!

2006-05-31T17:53:00.000-07:00

Well, here we are again. May 31 -- All Hurricane Season's Eve. I'm knee deep in, no, not storm surge, but storm coverage. All the authorities are begging with locals to pay attention, take heed, don't be stupid and GET THE HELL OUT when they say to.

Meanwhile, a Marathon attorney, musician and filmmaker is releasing the second edition of "Wilma the Witch," which he craftfully created from his own footage blended with that contributed by many others'. It's, well, as he puts it, the "Rocky Horror" version of a Wilma documentary. I say it has a "Blair Witch" quality too, which is fitting with the title. Anyway, it's my cover story for this week's L'Attitudes. (www.keynoter.com/lattitudes). The movie, and L'Attitudes, seeks to show true Keys characters and how they function during catastrophes. Are we stupid? Yes. Do we care? No. And while authorities will warn "Katrina" with every foreboding forecast, let me speak on behalf of those of us continually one paycheck away from homelessness in saying, "WE KNOW."

The Summerland "Chevron Gang" handed over the flipside (the name of my weekly column, incidently) of what the rich folks do during a storm. I met Scott Pillar, head photographer and videographer of the gang, after work at the Ramrod Key swimming hole, where he and a few others hang out after work, drink beer and pitch horseshoes. This is one of his shots. On of his friends is doing the Superman in the middle of US 1 as the surge pours over the island. Thanks Scott!

"Brick Wreck" -- ID sought

2006-05-23T17:41:00.000-07:00

Measuring & Drawing

2006-05-23T17:36:00.000-07:00

History in the making

2006-05-23T17:10:00.000-07:00

Today I went on a NOAA (National Oceanic Atmospheric Administration) research vessel that is hoping to identify a newly discovered wreck in waters off Marathon. This 78-foot vessel, according to all recently acquired aritifacts and data, is a cargo ship from the 1800s, somewhere -- as dated by pottery pieces found on the wreck -- between 1820 and 1850. The ship was apparently carrying bricks, which are still scattered around the wreck, that were valuable commodities during that timeframe.

Incidentally, a University of Western Florida student by the name of Brian Adams (not the one that cuts like a knife, Cheva from the Marine Sanc says) is doing his master's thesis on it. His father is a masonary in Pensacola. It was an exciting day and fun to be a journalist in the Keys.

The wreck lies in only 14 feet of water and apparently ocean-floor turnover caused by our last two hurricane seasons, which is why it was not discovered earlier. There's no reef nearby, it's not near a main channel, so it's not a hot spot for diving and snorkeling. That may change of this thing makes the Florida Keys Maratime Hertitage Trail list with GPS numbers, because it's a great wreck for a shallow free-dive. What's also unique to the area is that the floor bottom is so silty, it has a clay-like consistency. So the wreck is basically glued in place.

The researchers noted, also unique to a vessel of that era, that the planking is extremely heavy duty, much thicker than ships designed to carry even the heaviest of loads. Today they took wood and brick samples to put more of a place, by match of natural resources there, on the wreck.

some new old stuff for sentiment

2006-05-07T16:46:00.000-07:00

Steffi & Matthew

2006-05-04T18:47:00.001-07:00

I just remembered that Steffi Flath is definitely a patio-dweller too. It was Thanksgiving, Sandy brought crafts, Mattie decided to eat them. Ahhhh, gotta love toddlerhood. Next time I guess we're coming to Seattle, Steff. Flath, try to keep your lips off my husband this time!

For Ana and other patio dwellers

2006-04-22T06:33:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-22T06:22:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-22T06:18:00.000-07:00

candy candy candy candy candy

2006-04-22T06:12:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-22T06:07:00.000-07:00

(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

2006-04-22T05:47:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-22T05:38:00.000-07:00

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

2006-04-22T05:33:00.000-07:00

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.