One of the best birthday presents I ever bought anybody was a duck on a stick.
It wasn’t a decision involving long forethought. After all, a duck on a stick doesn’t instantly leap to mind when you’re seeking the perfect birthday gift for a friend.
However, this was the early 1980s in Key West and my options were limited, because I wasn’t making much money as a part-time waitress. But my friend Bob’s birthday was a big occasion, so the pressure was on.
Bob was an articulate, well-read former social worker whose dignified air hid a deeply skewed sense of humor. He and his wife owned a private compound of four small houses in Key West’s Old Town. They lived in one and rented out the other three.
The place was one of those tree-shaded compounds that existed so unexpectedly in Old Town, hidden behind an unassuming fence, with the houses built around a tranquil swimming pool.
The pool was shared by the compound’s residents, but that didn’t stop Bob from spending his afternoons in it … completely naked. No matter who else was around, he could be found lazing bare-assed in the water — smoking cigarettes, drinking beer and usually reading an action-packed thriller.
At that time, one of the compound’s tenants was Larry Shames, who became famous for authoring a series of Key West novels that blend suspense and offbeat comedy. It’s probably not a coincidence that Larry, then writing the first book in the series, created an unforgettable character dubbed “Steve the Naked Landlord.”
When I headed out to get Bob’s birthday gift, I planned to choose a highbrow spy novel for him. Instead, for some reason that will forever remain obscure, I bought him a duck on a stick.
Handmade and resting on wheels, painted in typical duck colors, it had ridiculous rubber flippers that rotated when it was pushed along via the stick. The duck was goofy, impractical, lacking any redeeming intellectual value — and absolutely irresistible to someone with a secret appreciation for the absurd.
Bob loved it. It stood out as my ultimate success in gifting … until my brother-in-law discovered Cuban bread.
This too happened some 40 years ago, when my sister Sanna and brother-in-law Michael visited Key West for the first time with their family.
Michael and Sanna are sophisticated New Yorkers. They live in a spacious, elegant apartment not far from Central Park, and escape during the summer to a beautiful Victorian home on Long Island. Michael is a former high-powered attorney — a guy who would look genuinely comfortable in a designer three-piece suit.
Yet after his initial trip to Key West, he abandoned his urbane air and carted a loaf of Cuban bread through the Miami airport.
Like so many people who vacation in Key West, Michael fell in love with the sights, colors and authentic flavors of the island — particularly the crisp, floury taste of fresh Cuban bread. When he left after that visit, a loaf left with him, to be enjoyed in the metropolitan sprawl of Manhattan.
So what did I send him for his birthday that year?
A loaf of Cuban bread from his favorite Key West bakery. By some strange coincidence, its long, baguette-like shape fit perfectly in a standard mailing tube. It wasn’t a duck, but it too ranked high as a successful gift.
Bob left the island long ago, although he remains immortalized as Steve the Naked Landlord. The duck on a stick, unfortunately, never made it into the pages of a suspense novel.
As for me, I widened my list of Cuban bread recipients and still ship loaves to friends and family in several states. After all, there’s no better gift than the authentic flavor of Key West.
