When I think of Key West it brings to mind, some marvelous imagery, as well as conjuring up foggy rum soaked memories of fantasy fests gone by. The farthest southern point of the US, it is more than snorkel trips, sunset cruises, and restaurants where chickens scratch at your feet. It is a mysterious island filled with hidden secrets. Beyond the delicious taste of a cool slice of key lime pie, and the palm trees split by a serene sunset, most of all, it is a place filled with characters. As though Hemingway himself had provided background and filled this tourist town with his own eclectic creations. It is in this very place indeed where he staggered down to a local bar, to challenge a friend to a drinking contest or boxing match. The saloons still echo his bygone bravado,with names such as Sloppy Joe's, Captain Tony's, or The Schooner Warf, they are a magnet to the often loud, wrinkled, liver ravaged, pirates which wander Duval Street in search of a drop of the magic which fortunately this wonderful, eye-opening, island can provide.
My search for magic began with my own christening as I finished packing the Jeep. The very last thing after everything was packed was to take out the leftover groceries from my refrigerator to give to a friend. When I did the bottom of the bag fell out and a half bottle of Cabernet went pouring down my shorts, ran down my right leg, soaked into my white gym sock and pretty much dyed my white tennis shoe instantly. My trip was going to begin as random as my life, like the man who is picked to be a spy simply because he has "one red shoe."
