Sheba has seen it all. Conchs, clowns, coconut-hawkers, Hemingway wannabes, bagpipes, pasty-white cruise passengers, bikini-topped sun worshippers.
Sheba, a 6-year-old German shepherd, surveys the scene on this fun-loving island through dark glasses. Tourists eagerly stuff cash into the hands of T.J. Fox, Sheba's partner, and then snap photos of the aloof pooch perched on a motorcycle.It's just another afternoon in Key West, an island where even the dogs know how to party.
The festivities that precede sunset are typical of this island's preoccupation with fun. You get the feeling that no one really works.
Restaurant staffs are chatty, the ticket-taker at the aquarium is giddy; police officers patrolling the beach are charming. It can't be work. The Conchs are having too much fun.
So, what is a Conch?
Conchs will tell you the name refers only to people born on Key West, although you can become a Freshwater Conch by living on the island for seven years.
Conch rhymes with "honk," and it's as much an attitude as a moniker.
Take the whole Conch Republic affair.
It began in 1982, when Border Patrol officials established checkpoints that were supposed to stop the flow of drugs and illegal aliens. Everyone driving off the island was subject to inspection and had to prove citizenship. This, of course, led to some mighty traffic jams. It was bad press for the tourist-based economy.
But the mayor had an idea: If the U.S. government was going to treat Key West like a foreign country, the island would secede. The town leaders gathered. The mayor stated his case, and Key West declared its independence.
Nobody noticed. But the checkpoints remained up.
That meant war for the folks of Key West. In front of an amused press corps, the mayor proclaimed April 23 as Conch Republic Day and declared war on the United States of America.
The mayor then fired the first and only shot of the war - straight into the air. After the weapon discharged, the media-savvy mayor laid down his arms and publicly called for foreign aid.
The story hit the news wires, and everyone had a good laugh. As had been hoped, the checkpoints came down a few days later. Good will and traffic flowed again.
Conch Republic flags are now proudly displayed, and islanders celebrate Conch Republic Day each year. Well, it started as a one-day event, but, in typical Key West fashion, it now is a weeklong celebration.
Meanwhile, back at the beach, Northern tourists are celebrating the balmy weather. With winter temperatures hovering around 75 degrees, Key West is a favorite with folks from the frigid North and cruise ship passengers anxious to get back their land legs.
Boccie ball lures sun lovers to Higgins Beach, one of several public beaches on Key West. Higgins also has public tennis courts and a children's playground, making it a popular spot for families.
At Smathers Beach, diversions and young people are plentiful. The lazy can sunbathe; the restless can play volleyball. For the adventurous, para-sailing, wind surfing and jet skis abound.
The most popular activity at Smathers Beach, however, is the stroll. It seems everyone must stroll up and down the sidewalk that runs the length of the beach. It's a people-watchers' dream.
Strolling takes on a decidedly rowdy turn in the evening when Duval Street becomes a highway for youthful fun.
At Rick's, leather-clad blondes are more entertaining than the folk singer onstage. When the entertainer is cajoled into a more rocking tune, 40-something femmes sway alongside 20-something frat rats.
Similar scenes are played out all along Duval. But the music isn't limited to the restaurants and bars. About every 50 feet, there's a street musician offering a tune and a photo opportunity for a tip.
An evening on the town wouldn't be complete without a stop at Sloppy Joe's, a favorite haunt of novelist Ernest Hemingway, who lived in Key West from 1931 to 1940. The bar is loud, it's raucous, and it's become a pilgrimage for Hemingway fans.
There's usually sports on TV and a band on the large stage. Brave tourists knock back a Papa's Dobler. Touted as one of Hemingway's favorites, it's a rum-based concoction with grapefruit juice, lime juice and grenadine for $4.25.
At Sloppy Joe's, tipping is a tradition. A good tip gets a ring of the bell dangling on a long rope above the bar.
It's worth a nice tip to watch bartenders like Edy Ducruet ring the bell. But don't expect to wow Ducruet with $5. She'll give the rope a good yank - maybe hard enough to make the bell hit the ceiling. One night she received a $100 bill for ringing the bell.
Of course, that story makes bell-ringing sound like work. And that just can't be the case. For Ducruet is a Conch, and Conchs just wanna have fun.
