Little Blue Heron

Spotted this lovely Little Blue Heron last week while traisping around the southern edge of Longboat Key.

U-2513

The Nazi U-boat submarine U-2513 was commissioned on October 12, 1944, as the war was winding down. Its captain surrendered to the allies on May 8, 1945 and it was taken to Oslo, then Ireland, then turned over to the United States where it actually become part of the U.S. Navy fleet.

On November 21, 1946, President Harry S. Truman took a tour of the U-2513 and became the first American President to travel on a submarine. It dove went 440 feet below the surface with the President on board.

The U-boat served the U.S. Navy well, with activity in Florida, New Hampshire, and Virginia.

But then in 1949, something odd happened. The submarine was taken out of service and sat idle in Portsmouth, even though it was still a perfectly fit vessel. In 1951, the Chief of Naval Operations ordered that the boat be sent to Florida - and sunk. And the order came down to specifically junk it in the remotest location of the Florida Keys - a spot northwest of the Dry Tortugas (Coordinates: 24°52.015′N 83°18.594′W).

Due to the sunken ship's extreme depth and remote location, few divers have ever attempted to visit it.

Four Points Sheraton Tallahassee

I develop fixations on certain buildings that call to me for whatever reason; sometimes I manage to go back and figure out what it is about the edifice that restimulates unexplained feelings but mostly I don't bother. The building and I just nod at each other as we pass, and we go about our business.

This building in Louisville is one example, and displayed here is another - the Four Points Sheraton hotel in Tallahassee. Though it's certainly a cool building, there's no real reason for me to perk up and stand at attention when seeing it. But I do.

It was even cooler back in the day, in its original incarnation as a Holiday Inn. You can see a snippet of film footage of it in its glory days here, and a photo of it halfway through its transformation here.

"Help People Who Need Help"

So there I was, strolling around the San Marco district of Jacksonville enjoying a Tatuaje 10th Anniversary Miami Special cigar (and thanks to the awesome power of Twitter, I can look back and discern that the exact day was September 22, 2013, because the file clerk in my head tends to vividly recall things in terms of what cigars I enjoyed that day, thanks to the even awesomer power of para-mnemonic synapse-twinning whole-track flashbulb-memory.)

Anyway. I saw this crudely-crayonned sign taped to a telephone pole, but taped to the very bottom of the pole as if a child had put it there. But the sign was clearly made by an adult, though trying to ape that childlike style that adults so often attempt but almost always ends in a boatload of fail. But there it is, your honor.

Oh yeah, and there's a playing card with a photo of a cat sleeping in a hammock.

What does it mean?

Spaghetti the Clown

You just never know what you're going to encounter walking the streets of Interzone. I rounded a corner on St. Armand's Key recently and came face to red-nosed face with none other than Spaghetti the Clown. He was performing some sort of routine in which he would hurl stuff up in the air via a rope, and then catch it again via the rope. Sounds boring when I tell it that way - and in fact you know it sort of is - but I had to admit there was serious hand-to-eye coordination going on here. He may be a clown but he gots mad skillz.

I did a little Googling when I got home, though, and learned that this is no mere clown-come-lately: his real name is Marcelo Perez Trascasa, and he's apparently quite a beloved fixture in Florida's formidable circus scene. Though I am a coulrophobe at heart, I found Spaghetti's act much easier to confront than Grandma the Clown, to say nothing of Grillo the Clown.

The Everglades Pizza

I'm boring as hell when it comes to pizza; pepperoni's good enough for me. If I'm feeling frisky, maybe Canadian bacon. But I admit I am tempted to head down to Evan's Neighborhood Pizza in Ft. Myers and score me one of their "Everglades Pizzas" that contain frog, alligator, swamp cabbage, and python.

According to WPXI:

Daniell estimates he has sold about 150 of the pizzas the last two years. That's not too bad considering the price, a medium 14-inch Everglades pie goes for $45. That's because python meat can cost about $66 per pound. Daniell reportedly has considered creating a "roadkill" pizza, which would include raccoon, armadillo and possum but has had trouble finding a supplier for the specialty meats.

Palm Island Chupacabra Sculpture

So maybe it's not a Chupacabra and maybe it's a rabbit and maybe it's something else entirely, but this bizarre sculpture in somebody's front yard on Palm Island never fails to catch my eye.

I don't even know what's it's sculpted from - it looks sort of like fungus-encrusted tree stump and sort of like papier-mache. One of these days I'm going to have to just knock on their door and ask.