Blogging From Key West: I Tried, I Really, Really Tried....

I promised a number of people - including myself - that I would diligently blog from Key West and Meeting Of the Minds. Then, we got here. From pretty much the minute we put our bags down in our room at the Island City House and rented a couple of bicycles, it has been one non stop whirlwind ride - or pedal, if you will - around the island. As Mr. Buffett would say, that's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Wednesday, November 2nd: First stop - The Bull (or Bull & Whistle for those who want to be exact) on Duval for the Atlanta Parrot Head Club Welcome Party. Hosted by Joel Oates and the APHC, of which both my wife, Georgia, and I are proud members of. Two-fer-seven bucks Margaritas and music from Jim Asbell & The Tropiholics. A great way to kick off six days of music and mayhem. it was also where we first ran into Kurt and "Achmed", his personal version of Jeff Dunham's dead terrorist puppet. This one welcomed all Virgins (i.e, those who had never been to a MOTM) to town.

We used The Bull as "home base" setting off from there to grab a bite to eat and check out other nearby venues, including a stop at Hog's Breath, where Jim Morris & The Big Bamboo Band rocked a packed parking lot of enthusiastic fans. Back to the Bull for some late night dancing and a couple of nightcaps and home to get ready for what would be a busy Thursday.



Thursday, November 3rd: The Island city House serves a very nice complimentary breakfast in the courtyard every morning. Unless you're Donald Trump, between what you pay for a nice room on the island and necessities like adult beverages during MOTM, you save where you can. So, free breakfast and coffee right outside your room is a no brainer. Fully muffin'ed and java'd, we climbed on our bikes and headed across town to the official convention site - the Casa Marina resort. The ride from the Island City House to the Casa is a pleasant one, down a number of back streets and past a variety of colorful Key West homes. It also takes you past the graveyard, famous for many interesting sites, including the grave stone that proclaims, "I told you I was sick".

Georgia and I arrived at the Casa and encountered something we never seem to luck into back in Atlanta. Looking to register, we were directed by security to the other side of the building, turned a corner and ran smack into a line of people a mile long. We turned to each other and whined in unison, "this is going to take FOREVER". Just as we were about to give up and come back later, when maybe it might not be as crowded, a benevolent Parrot Head standing in the mile long line saw our registration cards and said, "Oh, you have a green one. You're not in THIS line. You can go in THAT one." THAT line, the one she pointed to, was only about five people long. It turned out to be a last name thing, and we - being "M's" - had hit the alphabetical jackpot. Feeling a little bit guilty, but only a very little, we strolled to the head of the pack and before you could say One Particular Harbor, had our wristbands on and welcome bags in hand.

We made a quick spin around the floor, stopping for quick chats with Trop Rock artists Brent Burns and Jim Morris, each of whom were manning their own booths - selling and autographing copies of their cds and t shirts, or I suppose, whatever else any more adventurous soul might like signed, then slid behind the Parrot Heads In Paradise "merch table", where - for the next three hours - we helped sell t shirts, hats and coozies to conventioneers. PHiP is the governing body for the Parrot Head nation, and the one that throws this shindig at mile marker zero every year.

Registration and volunteer responsibilities completed, we climbed back on our bikes and heading back to our room to regroup and get ready to dive in to a veritable smorgasbord of Trop Rock.

First stop: The Rum Barrel, where we catch John Friday and friends and I graduate from Boat Drink U (I have the certificate to prove it). To be continued....

Meeting Of The Minds: Getting There is Half The Fun, Part 2

After feeding the tarpon at Robbie's we made a stop at the next Walgreens we spotted to stock up on supplies for our hotel room, including adult beverages. Yes, I said Walgreens. In addition to the usual aisles of hair care products and incontinence medicine, this one had an attached liquor store. Hard to pass up sale priced Sailor Jerry Rum and Jose Cuervo, especially when you know you may be paying $8 to $10 for a good drink when you get to Key West. But, more on that later. By then, it was already 4:00 and we made the executive decision to do the rest of the trip non-stop, make a beeline to our hotel. That is, until I spotted the Looe Key Tiki Bar. Trop Rock fans may recognize the spot from the Howard Livingston song of the same name. It has always been one of my favorite Trop Rock tunes, so we had to stop in.

That is where we met the Most Organized Man In The World. Like Lor-E-Lei's, the LKTB was full of Parrot Heads heading for Key West. One group seemed especially animated, so I approached them and asked if I could get a picture for this blog. They cheerily obliged then, through the course of introductions, we discovered they were all members of the Ft. Myers, Florida Parrot Head Club. More than that, their defacto leader, Brett Baker, offered to show us "the book" if we would follow them to their next stop, which happened to be almost right across the street at Boondocks.

Running late, we agreed to make the unscheduled visit after being told by his travel mates, Jimbo and Tracy, that this was not just any book. This was THE BOOK.

They weren't kidding. This was the most thoroughly researched, anally organized and painstakingly cross referenced organizational plan I had ever seen. Not just a color coded schedule of bands playing MOTM, but a complete list of bars between Miami and Mile Marker 0, the daily specials offered at those bars, and even the best food choices. Then, there was the schedule. Not only which bars were to be visited, but at what specific times, and for how long - along the proscribed route. This was a man on a mission, and that mission was to make sure he - and anyone travelling with him - squeezed every last drop of fun out of the 4 or 5 days they would be in Southernmost Florida. After basking in the glow of "the book" for a while, and talking to a recently transplanted Cape Cod-ian at the Boondocks bar (Me: "Why did you move down the Keys?" Him: "Why not?") we also discovered that Brett had an interesting business, selling "beer beads". That is, New Orleans style Mardi Gras beads, with bottle tops from your favorite brew crimped all along their length. before I could say "I'd love one of those!" Brett had his tailgate open and was handing me a set of Corona beer beads.

Next: Night number one in Key West.

Meeting Of The Minds: Getting There Is Half The Fun

Meeting Of The Minds, the annual gathering of the Phaithful, is taking place right now in Key West, Florida. What started as a Fall migration of Jimmy Buffet fans, aka Parrot Heads, has turned into a celebration of Trop Rock - with dozens of bands playing in just about every Cayo Hueso bar and alley that can put up a sound system. After talking about it for close to ten years, we finally decided to take the plunge this year, booked a room, flights, and rental car and told the kids they were on their own for a week.

We're not novices to Key West, having been there a number of times - including our honeymoon. And one thing we've learned over the years: Getting there is half the fun. You can fly directly into the loftily named Key West "International" airport (really not much more than a small private airport that handles larger planes). But, we prefer to fly into Ft. Lauderdale and drive the 190 miles.  That way, we can enjoy the beautiful scenery, appreciate the quaint little towns and keys, see local color...and, oh, by the way, there might be a watering hole or three to stop in along the way.

Wed morning
After landing in Ft. Lauderdale, we jumped in to our rented convertible and headed South. Our first stop on US 1 is always Lor-E-Lei's in Islamorada. Sitting right on the water, their "Boss" Margarita and Catch of the Day sandwich is just what the doctor ordered after a grueling hour and a half flight from Atlanta (feel free to make up your own excuses for needing food and/or drink). Sitting on their beach, enjoying the Gulf breeze and watching the boats go by immediately gets your mind off whatever you left behind.

Of course, we're not the only ones who think driving down to Key West is the only way to make the trip and, with the largest congregation of fin friendly folks in the world getting ready to begin later that day, it didn't take long to find others who were making the same trek. You could hear the collective sound of heels clicking and people saying, "We're not in Kansas (or Minneapolis, New Jersey, Oklahoma - insert your home state here) anymore!"

Hunger sated and thirst quenched, it was back into the convertible and off to the next stop: Robbie's Marina. More of a flea market with a small bar, Robbie's has something for everyone. Cheap souvenirs, hand produced art, clothing, and - of course - food and drink.

But, what really makes Robbie's a must see stop, especially for people making the trip with kids, is their Tarpon. Schools of the large, dangerous looking sport fish hang around Robbie's, waiting for hand outs from willing visitors. Grab a cold beer from the cooler, a bucket of bait fish, walk out onto the dock and let the fun begin.

Next: We take the Howard Livingston Tour and meet some Ft. Myers phlockers, including the Most Organized Man in the World... And Night One at MOTM.

To be continued....