For whatever compelling reason an otherwise nondescript image of an idle moment can indeed evoke a vivid recollection of a past impressionable encounter.
And the image shown above of me idly posing along the City of Miami Dinner Key Marina dinghy docks is indeed of one such nondescript, idle moment.
For you see, it was after having come ashore and after having secured my dinghy on what seems to have been but yet another bright sunny morning, that I happened to encounter another fellow along the docks that I hadn't recalled ever having previously met.
And after mutually acknowledging one another with a casual "good morning" and after then exchanging a pleasantry or two, the fellow proceeded to launch into a mild diatribe of sorts.
In but an instant that lean, tall, slender fellow with a dark complexion and dark shades was soon carrying on about how the City Marina was ruining his and other fellow boaters life with all their new rules and regulations that they were now imposing.
And without missing a beat, that talkative, super-active yet engaging fellow was rapidly explaining that he'd been out at anchor in the Dinner Key Harbor for as far back as '88 and was now carrying on of how he and others out at anchor weren't drug abusers while emphatically explaining that the new rules that were now being imposed were too onerous and that the Cuban Miami City officials were all corrupt and racist and that he had had enough of Miami and that he would be leaving for Phoenix the following morning to go live with his brother and that he had a painting job all lined up and waiting for him and that...
Yet that wasn't by any means the extent of that fellow's random commentary for his narrative was also interspersed with personal recollections of having been an Air Force brat back when he was a youngster and of having lived in Spain for a number of years while his dad was in the service and of having travelled extensively throughout Europe at one time.
Nevertheless what seemed to resonate the most with me for whatever reason was his sorrowful account of when a personal friend of his was found deceased early one morning in a nearby park with a needle stuck in a vein.
This was but a day after his friend was awarded seven-figures by a jury for having been severely and unjustifiably beaten months earlier by officers of the Miami Police Department.
That talkative fellow went on to explain that his friend would indeed routinely smoke a little weed but sticking a needle in his arm was simply out of the question and not something he'd ever done before or had ever even contemplated doing.
He afterwards emphatically proclaimed that he was convinced that none other than Miami's finest had staged a drug overdose in retribution for his friend having won his case against the City of Miami and the Miami Police Department.
And in hindsight I kinda, sorta remember this incident making national news a while back but I simply just don't remember any more than but a few details of the case and of how contentious the trial was.
Yet the irony of it all is that I kinda, sorta remember having met in passing this same loquacious fellow back in '88 when I was briefly at anchor in Dinner Key Harbor.
For you see, that lean, tall, slender fellow with a dark complexion had the brightest, silver-blue eyes imaginable, a physical attribute that was for some odd reason somewhat unnerving to gaze upon after he pointedly removed his dark sun shades to reveal the color of his eyes.
It simply isn't often that one comes across a person of color with such intense crystal clear, silver-blue eyes not that it should matter one way or another but it is most certainly a physical attribute that one is inclined to remember and I do indeed seem to recall having come across someone with the same features way back when.
Well I never did get in a word edgewise insofar as that conversation was concerned for somehow I sensed that the fellow simply wanted to vent a few frustrations before departing Miami for good the next morning.
In any event I did find that fellow to be rather engaging in a personable sort of way. Nor did I regret having taken the time to listen to all his random commentary.
Well what the heck... it wasn't like I had anything better to do at that particular moment.
View of Dinner Key Harbor, September '88.
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