Aventuras De Viaje

The day started as so many, a glorious sunrise, two cups of Nespresso, dynamic stretching and then on my bike Walter White to ride the two blocks to the pickleball courts. Yet this day held more, or should I say, the night, because Rick and Dayna were playing at Havana Jack’s, and everybody loves Rick and Dayna. Rick actually plays pickleball, and he’s pretty good, but his guitar and singing skills are far more legendary.

Rick and Dayna, like so many on the Keys, have another life back home. Their home is in Michigan, but for the months they spend down here, they have an incomparable versatility to their musical offering, and so when they play a gig on Key Colony Beach, there is a massive following.

This story involves another fresh water conch (if you’re born in the Keys, you’re called a Conch, but if you live here for seven years, you become a freshwater conch) and he goes by the name of Tom. Tom is of Portuguese origin (so he tells me) by way of Boston. Les and I met Tom on the pickleball courts, where he is not only a regular, but also the past Commodore of the yacht club and at 75, speaks with the authority you’d expect from a Bostonian. He has one of the dryest senses of humor on the court you could expect, but off the court there are endless true tales of Uncle Manny that are side-splitters. According to legend, Tom got into some hot water as Commodore of the boating and yacht club by telling some jokes one member described as sexist, so now he only tells true stories of his Uncle Manny, who can be forgiven for being a little sexist as he’s in his late 80’s. Tom also invented the Key Colony Shuffle, which has been practiced widely in the Key Colony for more than 13 years. Yes, Tom is legend for his jokes and his dancing.

Leslie and I rocked up to Havana Jack’s at about 6pm -a late dinner by Florida standards, and amazingly, as it turns out, got a table right away. Jan and Richard (also pickleball buddies) reserved their table 10 days earlier because Rick and Dayna draw such a big crowd. Tom and his friends were at the next table over. They had also reserved far in advance. Leslie and I now commanded some serious street cred for having such a great spot just 15 ft from the stage, and I told no one it was dumb luck and lack of planning.

What was really amazing was how many people we knew and who came over and talked with us. Sometimes it’s hard to recognize your pickleball friends in normal clothes and without hats, sunglasses and pickleattire, but they seemed to be at every turn and it was awesome. Tom regaled Les with some Uncle Manny jokes before the first set began, and spirts were high, the sun set beautifully and the band got ready to play.

Before their first song, Rick and Dayna played a favorite recording that dedicated to Irene, who was celebrating her 93rd birthday. I had been eyeing her and a couple of ladies around her at the bar, thinking once we finished dinner, we could snag their seats. Just before her song was dedicated, we saw the 3 ol gals doing shots of tequila, so my hopes for the bar stools faded, but as Irene danced a decent jig, my hopes for the evening began to climb.

More friends stopped by, and on my way to the loo, one guy shouted over the music, “Hey Larry! Gonna be fun tonight.” to me, which i thought was particularly sweet poetic justice as I have clearly established in other blogs, that I cannot remember hardly anyone’s name, so I just responded “Heck Yeah!” and went on my way.

Soon Kay, her husband Dan and her sister came by and we invited them to join us. Kay has an infectious sense of humor and is like Tennille to her husband Captain, she outgoing, extroverted with a big hearty laugh and he introverted, quietly talented, and rarely speaks. They are also from Michigan, have lived in Salina! but currently reside in an extremely small Inuit village. I have tried to weasel an invitation but Kay thinks we’re too soft just because they lack electricity and stuff up there. Some day I will tell her my kangaroo fighting story and then she’ll know I’m not that soft…

Anyway, Kay and her sister, from a family of 9 siblings, have a way of bringing the best out in you and consequently they even got Leslie up and dancing and the night just seemed perfect. We had just all danced to Sweet Home Alabama (which is where Jan and Richard are from), and there were at least 30-40 people on the dance floor, when suddenly Tom was in front of me. Tom, the inventor of the Key Colony Shuffle (KCS). Tom, nephew of Uncle Manny. Tom, who is know by all for his dancing. He shimmied in front of me. SO I did a shimmy back. Tom upped the ante with a variant of the KCS, but I had seen this move a few weeks before when nearly a hundred people did the KCS on the beach, so I replicated the move and added some flare.

Now I need to pause a second and provide some background. My wife does not love how I dance. She thinks, and I know there are others who agree, that I swing my arms a bit too wildly. Leslie likes to quote from the movie Hitch, where Hitch teaches Albert how to dance, and he says “Don’t EVER do that. This is where you live.” and basically prevents Albert from doing anything than a sort of shoulder sway. She has been known, and by known, I mean at every party, she will physically hinder my arms from going above my waste. But Tom had gotten between me and Les, and others too, so there was no hindrance when Tom’s third move, a sort of bee-bop jump hop if his Crocs was returned with both a sprinkler move, and a Boc Boy JB shoot dance, to which Rick exclaimed in his microphone, “WE GOT A DANCE-OFF!”

Even I was a bit shocked as the mass of people separated like the Red Sea and surrounded Tom and me. Tom attempted another variation to the KCS, but I had no filter, hitting him with a Running Man, The Butterfly, and my own version of the Diddy Bop, at which point Rick shouted, “Step away Tom, you’re gonna get hurt,” and the crowd cheered. I decided to really go for it, there were limbs flying everywhere and it was as if I levitated off the dance floor, but actually it was just me swinging with such power and centrifugal force that I fell to the ground. There was just the most infinitesimal moment when those closest to me gasped, I mean audibly gasped, which Leslie heard, but because the throng was so thick she couldn’t see what happened, but it was the fractionest of a fraction, for immediately upon hitting the floor, I turned it into a break dance, complete with a spin, kicks and a twist, then popped back up like it was all my intention. Tom shook my hand a gave me a begrudging hug and the crowd cheered. Tom had been beaten.