We headed down the seven-mile bridge, thinking of Carl Hiassen and the reason swimming pools are painted the color they are.
We were welcomed by our host GG in the classic manner—poolside and beer friendly with dead animal flesh on the barbie.
Upon consulting various maps and options, we set forth to discover a tourist town that has been discovered many years ago.
And we took in the southernmost spot in the U.S.A. Cuba: 90 miles.
3 comments:
You may be in the lap of luxury, with
an infinite horizon.
But I have a new car from Jersey, Bruce on an ace sound system, a my daughter locked in the trunk pretending I'm Vincent Gambino.
So, who's jealous now?
I meant to and, AND my daughter locked in the trunk.
At last.
the last time I was in key west it was during the cuban missle crisis...oh there I go dating myself again..kind of a tense time to be in town as I recall...
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