Look, it is an author waving at you through the barbeque at Coral Castle, south Miami. An early start got us there just past noon. We had to stop and say hello to everybody on the way, which basically means Quizno’s. My batteries new camera went dead, or I’d have a unique photo of a long convoy of Truly Nolan cars heading for a rat infestation. Or a political convention, but I repeat myself. [Author’s note: Truly Nolan is a pest extermination company with yellow Volkswagens sporting fake mouse ears and a tail. We were passed by four of them in a row.]
The Coral Castle is a bargain. Admittedly, I have avoided it because it looks like another Miami style $35 rip off. Not so, it is worth every penny of the $9.75 admission fee. There is plenty of free parking, a reasonable gift shop with free coffee and (most rare in Florida) staff that observably enjoy their jobs. The displays and system are well planned and several voiceboxes dot the property, with four languages available.There is no tour guide, you may take as long as you please and see everything. The “castle” itself is quite small, around twenty feet on a side, two stories. The layout reveals it was originally a rock garden. There is no mystery how it was built. Basic engineering, leverage and a lot of chisel work but the place possesses an aura of impressive wonderment. All built by a Latvian man named Ed who fell in love with a woman ten years his junior. She stood him up at the altar. Good thing this happened around 1910 or she would have gotten the property, too.
The famed 9-ton door hinged so lightly it would open in the breeze was under repair. Just our luck. The bearings blew out last month and we could not budge the thing. All the metal parts in the castle are old car and machinery components. One thing I learned, if the history is authentic, is that I’ve been pronouncing Latvia the wrong way. The Big Dictionary is so old, the word is not there, but the recordings pronounced it “latt-VEE-uh”.
The trivia for today is from Wallace. The question is, why, when you see those Australian soldiers, the side of their hats are pinned up on one side? Fashion? Soldiers like to do that kind of thing. However, Wallace met a soldier who told him otherwise. Unless they liked to get tanned only on one side of their faces, the following makes perfect sense to me. The Australians were equipped with Lee-Enfield rifles. When the bolt was retracted, an empty shell casing ejected upwards. A hat brim could bounce it back against the firer’s tender cheek or ear. Speaking from personal experience, a just-spent brass cartridge is quite damn hot.
Okay, you been good. Here is another photo. (Remember, I have to detune these pictures one by one because Wallace’s camera consumes a half gigabyte per jpeg.) These are reading chairs at the Coral Castle. They face North, East and South, so during the day you may change positions according to the light or breeze. The downside of exposed lawn furniture is you’ll never know what manner of tourist you’ll find making themselves at home. The design is surprisingly comfortable considering the reclining chair wasn’t invented for another 50 years.
Where are my tambourines? At Jimbo’s, I hand out microphones and bean cans, etc, so the audience can participate. As a sound check tonight, I played some old “stripper music”. The party began as we had some old strippers in the house tonight. That provoked a ton of tips. At quarter past midnight, said tambourines were located. Twelve feet up the wall upon some ancient dart trophies. This will be a good weekend.
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