Monsters among us

This fine creature, sitting in the mangrove pond at North Roosevelt and Martí, is part of this year's Sculpture Key West, which puts new works from artists near and far at Fort Zach, the West Martello and other locations around town.

We scoped out the Martello pieces at Harrell and Barry's end-of-season party there, and enjoyed them as ever. This offsite installation, named "_┌" in an all-too-cute smiley way, is not half the animal of last year's tremendous "Trojan Duck," a giant wooden mallard on wheels that sat at the East Martello for many happy months.

Robert would naturally like to bring the monster to the lake at Holly Hill but, dear lad, he has the sense to read our market positions correctly and realizes that we would do well to fund a newt.

Other visitors in town, however, would be welcome under no circumstances whatsoever.

I refer to spring breakers, who have been either refused admission at or tossed out of most of the hotels and guest houses on or near our street. A batch of 6 lads, who became 8, and then 12, and then 16, and so on, got the boot from the pink house across the street yesterday.

They were replaced by 6 female breakers, who travel in flocks, and became louder than the 16 males because they all chatter at once, as opposed to staggering off in small beer-soaked subgroups whose lungs only power up here when the bars close a block away at 4 a.m. (Besides, the pecs are better on the males this year.) One was sleeping on our driveway two nights ago, and moved very quickly for such a large person when I shone a cop-grade flashlight in his face.

And then there are this weekend's crowds: As I went out to get some new bowls from Grace, our personal potter, and pick up the Keysmobile after an oil change, the clots of people staggering up and down Duval in green T-shirts and green hats and green beads and green beer sloshing on the sidewalk reminded me of why I was so glad to move from the apartment over the Irish bar on Halsted street lo those many years ago.