It's happened again. I opened the paper on Sunday morning and found I had missed a big fund raiser for breast cancer at the local nudist colony. Jesus, I would have taken my camera to that. The fates are against me. I'm doomed.
I just found out Captain Tony died. My friend went to Key West this weekend and was part of the wake. Tony was in his nineties. Not bad for a guy who lived like that. I used to hang out in Key West a lot in the '70s and early '80s. I have many stories to tell about Captain Tony's bar. Too many for this post. I went to Key West just after college for the first time. College had been hippie times, all drugs and sex and ideology. I majored in ideology, but I saw the other. Key West was something different. There was an edge to it, dangerous and weird. The town was just undergoing its first batch of gentrification. Gays were giving the town an aesthetic renovation. Drug dealers were providing the money. There were great bars and restaurants and everything was still cowboy cheap. So much to tell, too much. I was in Captain Tony's one hot summer's night. Some great band was playing and people were dancing and drinking and sweating and there under those dim lights in the smoke and gloom, women began to undress, and then the whole place was like an opium dream, me plump with desire and possibility. Thump, thump, thump, boom, boom, boom. Some driving song you felt down low, a growling, hungry thing. "I will move here," I thought in my wildness, "I will live here and be happy."
I didn't, and I'll never know why. I made many friends in town, and I was always able to sit and talk to Captain Tony. He was a good guy who liked to tell stories. His life was his favorite one. They made a movie about him. I was there during some of the shooting. I was cast as an extra but couldn't stay long enough. Much to regret.
In one of his unsuccessful bids for Mayor (which he won later on), he told me, "I'll run this town like I run my bar. If I don't like you, you're out of here!" He was a nice, ornery fellow, both bigger and smaller than life.
I have a photo of hims somewhere, and photos of me there, but I don't have time to find them now. I'll come back and replace this silly picture one day when I find what I'm looking for.
I just found out Rust Hills, the Fiction Editor for Esquire, died, too. I met Rust and his wife, the writer Joy Williams, in Key West. I have a story to tell about that, too. Much happened in Key West. So much to tell.
I've never been to Key West. I'd like to go some winter & see Hem's house, but people tell me that the town has changed, maybe it's the gentrification they are talking about.
ReplyDeleteI first went to Key West back in 1979 and I was amazed how friendly the guys were. I'd go to a bar and before you know it, some guy comes over and buys, me a drink. It happened a few times. They were all SO into what I had to say and hung on every word.
ReplyDeletePity there weren't any women in those bars.
Christ! I was so clueless back then.
I am looking forward to more stories and photos. I love Key West.
ReplyDeleteYes, I will tell more.
ReplyDeleteCayo Hueso has changed -- a lot of the rough and cowboy has been paved over and yuppified.
ReplyDeleteMy last trip besides the Hemingway house and just walking the town, I did spend a lot of time at the Aquarium. It was a WPA project and most of the original architecture is still there. It was the last time government invested in all aspects of the infrastructure -- maybe Obama will come through on his promise to replicate the New Deal.
Yes -- more stories – of the Island of Bones and otherwise.