“Balloon Dog” has landed at Key West’s Fantasy Fest 10-day masking and costuming festival, offering a zany canine counterpoint to the alleged “Balloon Boy” hoax that recently drew worldwide attention.

Jim Brooks checks the so-called weather balloon affixed to his "Balloon Dog," Brutus, at Key West's Fantasy Fest Pet Masquerade. (Photos by Rob O'Neal, Florida Keys News Bureau)

The appearance of “Balloon Dog,” however, was the real thing. Lower Keys resident Jim Brooks attached a pseudo weather balloon to a harness worn by his English bulldog, Brutus, to compete in the Fantasy Fest Pet Masquerade. His inspiration, of course, was the much-publicized saga of the Colorado boy supposedly carried away by a homemade weather balloon that took off after he climbed inside it.

“I imagined, over a couple of beverages, what would happen if my dog did that,” said Jim.

Perhaps fortunately for his credibility, Jim didn’t specify the type of beverage that led to his imaginings. He did, however, outline some of the logistical challenges he faced in creating the costume.

According to Jim, he originally envisioned Brutus actually floating in midair beneath a helium balloon — but Internet research revealed that lifting the 65-pound dog would necessitate a surprisingly large supply of helium.

“It was going to require a 21-foot-diameter weather balloon, and the National Weather Service wouldn’t let me borrow one,” Jim said.

It's hard to tell who looks more alien here -- but clearly, this duo dropped in from its home planet to participate in the Pet Masquerade.

Jim and “Balloon Dog” weren’t the only offbeat competitors that paraded across the Pet Masquerade stage. The contest for “party animals” drew more than 80 entries starring costumed dogs, cats, tropical birds and unusual pets such as two African tortoises dressed as members of the fictional “Addams Family.” (Honestly, I’m not making this up. The tortoises, whose names are Topsy and Toast, and their two human companions won — and deserved — the masquerade’s grand prize.)

Other crowd favorites included a tiny canine dressed as a popular sandwich chain’s trademark “$5 foot-long,” a “peacock dog” that shook its exotic tail feathers at spectators, and a man who donned blue and yellow feather boas to impersonate the blue-and-gold macaw he carried.

Which one is the REAL blue-and-gold macaw? Jim Cozzi and his bird Bob sport lookalike blue and yellow feathers.

An entry dubbed “Mary Had a Little Lamb” featured a woman named Mary, who wore a sexy shepherdess dress, leading two big dogs costumed as lambs. During her stint onstage, Mary said she thought wearing the costumes was making her dogs feel (yes, you know what’s coming) a little sheepish.

How creative and quirky were this year’s Pet Masquerade competitors? Well, the bearded dragon that “rode” around the stage perched on a self-propelled toy Harley did NOT win the top prize for being the most exotic entry.

Actually, neither did “Balloon Dog.” But that’s okay, because he was the darling of the film crews shooting the animal antics. Like the Colorado family that inspired his costume, Brutus is pretty sure to show up on television screens all across America.

Topics: Animal Ambassadors, Events, Festivals, Highlights, Key West, LGBT, Local Color, Quirks

In 1979, October in Key West meant the dog days of a late subtropical summer. Many streets were so empty that dogs could actually be spotted dozing on the asphalt.

Happy birthday, Fantasy Fest! Key West doesn't "clown around" when it comes to producing its flamboyant annual festival and spectacular grand parade. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

But a group of local merchants changed that when they conceived a novel way to mark Halloween, a favorite island holiday that residents celebrated with uninhibited flair: a Halloween festival they dubbed Fantasy Fest.

Their 1979 event was a two-day party and a parade — featuring a local woman who draped her nude metallic-painted body across the hood of a Lincoln Continental and proclaimed herself its hood ornament.

After that auspicious beginning, the festival became an annual extravaganza known as the perfect place to “let it all hang out.” Organizers promoted it nationwide, and visitors began flocking to Key West each October.

Eventually it grew to 10 days. National and international media — including television weatherman Willard Scott — lauded its often risqué costume competitions, lavish masquerade balls and grand parade that featured fabulous floats and marching groups in bright-colored finery.

A past Fantasy Fest costume contest and parade featured a wacky flock of (wait for it) poultry in motion. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

In the mid-1990s Willard made an on-air statement that locals still remember. Displaying an elaborate feathered Fantasy Fest mask live on “The Today Show,” he enthusiastically blurted, “And in Key West this week, they’re having their annual Fanny Fest.”

Whatever you call it, the festival marks its 30th birthday this year — and most Key West residents can recall an offbeat Fantasy Fest incident or two. Like the time a local celebrity and his entourage appeared in costumes satirizing then-president Bill Clinton’s Monica-mania. Or the night a “spaceman” had dire technical difficulties with his flying saucer outside Sloppy Joe’s Bar. Or the year half-naked “headhunters” invaded Duval Street.

Yet despite its outrageous flavor, Fantasy Fest also has a more serious side as a reflection of current events.

What do you get when you combine a blue dress, a cigar and a president who shall remain nameless? A fantastic entry in the Fantasy Fest parade! (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

In 1998, for example, a few weeks after Hurricane Georges swept through the Lower Keys, the festival went on as planned — offering triumphant proof that no storm could dampen the Keys’ resilience or creativity. The parade honored U.S. 1 Radio for staying on the air throughout the hurricane to offer Keys-wide updates and comfort.

One float featured the station’s generator, nicknamed “Zippy” because it powered the broadcasts during the storm-induced electrical blackout. Parade spectators saluted the valiant little generator with nonstop applause and laughter.

Perhaps the most poignant moment in Fantasy Fest history came in 2001. Just weeks after the Sept. 11 attacks, the festival gave eight exhausted, grieving New York City firefighters a chance to relax and smile.

The FDNY firefighters were rightfully hailed as heroes during the 2001 Fantasy Fest parade. Rob Carlo (center) held up his late brother's photo as they marched. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Months before, firefighters Michael Carlo and his brother Rob, teammates on the 10-member FDNY volleyball team, had decided to march in the year’s Fantasy Fest parade. But their plans — and their lives — were shattered when the World Trade Center collapsed.

Mike Carlo died in the rubble, as did volleyball team member Tim Welty. The remaining eight teammates, though devastated by their loss, put in heartbreaking days and weeks working at the site that came to be known as Ground Zero.

But the night of the 2001 Fantasy Fest parade, dressed in red, white and blue T-shirts bearing Mike and Tim’s names, they marched the length of the parade route in memory of their lost brothers.

Whether honoring heroes or saluting creative costumes and floats, Fantasy Fest has earned its place as Key West's premier annual festival. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Rob carried Mike’s photograph, while a teammate waved a sign that read, “FDNY — Still the Greatest Job on Earth.” An estimated 50,000 spectators cheered, blinked back tears, and chanted “USA! USA!” as the firefighters passed by.

The 30th annual Fantasy Fest begins Oct. 23 and runs through Nov. 1, with the parade set for Halloween night. Whether you’ve never attended or are a veteran fest-goer, this is the year to join Key Westers in celebrating the festival’s colorful history … and anticipating the next 30 years.

Topics: Events, Festivals, Highlights, History, Key West, LGBT, Local Color, Quirks

The southernmost stretch of U.S. Highway 1, running some 110 miles from mainland Florida throughout the Keys to Key West, has earned many names over the years. It’s been called the Overseas Highway. The Highway That Goes to Sea. And on October 16 it earned the right to be called an All-American Road, the highest national designation a roadway can receive.

The Florida Keys' landmark Overseas Highway is now an All-American Road ... the only roadway to earn the top national designation in Florida and one of just 31 in the entire U.S..

But for those of us who love the Keys, whether as residents or regular visitors, the highway has a simpler and more elemental designation: it’s the road home.

Heading south from mainland Florida, the highway leads into a world of seemingly endless water and sky. On the left, the Atlantic Ocean unrolls to a blue horizon; on the right lies Florida Bay and, further south, the Gulf of Mexico.

From the mainland to Key West, an astonishing 42 bridges leapfrog between islands. One of them, the Seven Mile Bridge at Marathon, stretches 6.79 miles across open water — and was once nicknamed “the eighth wonder of the world.”

The new Jewfish Creek Bridge is the first of 42 Overseas Highway spans that southbound drivers cross on their way to the end of the road. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Yet the Seven Mile Bridge wasn’t always a highway bridge, and the Overseas Highway wasn’t always a road. It began as a railroad, the brainchild of millionaire Henry Flagler, who envisioned a train route connecting all the Florida Keys and mainland Florida. Flagler inspired an army of men to spend seven years constructing the railroad’s bridges and land-based tracks, and in 1912 the first train pulled into Key West.

After only two-plus decades of carrying freight and wealthy vacationers, much of the railroad was badly damaged in a 1935 hurricane. Three years later the Overseas Highway debuted, built on a foundation that incorporated some of the original railway spans.

In 1982, 37 original bridges including the Seven Mile Bridge were replaced with wider spans (eagerly welcomed by those of us familiar with the scarily narrow old bridges). About a third of the original bridges were removed during the project, but three of those remaining — the Long Key, Bahia Honda and Seven Mile bridges — are on the National Register of Historic Places.

This lucky couple (and their trusty flamingo "mascot") travel the 18-Mile Stretch between mainland Florida and Key Largo, just before embarking on the Overseas Highway's one-of-a-kind driving adventure. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Traveling down the Overseas Highway, drivers can see many of the old bridges running alongside the newer ones. And all of us who travel the road regularly have our favorite stretches and sights — talisman vistas that offer a welcome foretaste of home on the southward drive.

For example, when I reach Islamorada in the Upper Keys, I can’t help smiling as I pass a particularly beautiful cluster of contemporary oceanfront homes. Spotting the pocket-sized island of Pigeon Key, nestled beneath the Old Seven Mile Bridge, inspires daydreams about living in one of its tiny restored cottages.

Farther along the Old Seven Mile Bridge, defying natural logic, five scraggly bushes sprouted on the weather-beaten pavement years ago and somehow have managed to survive. For me, they’ve become leafy mascots. Every time I cross the newer bridge, I glance anxiously over at each bush to make sure it’s still hanging on.

The historic Old Seven Mile Bridge, at right of the newer bridge, cuts through tiny Pigeon Key and is home to five unlikely but beloved bushes. Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau

Just before Big Pine lies one of the highway’s prime vistas. At Bahia Honda State Park, a portion of the old Bahia Honda Bridge arches up against the sky, a stark and throat-catchingly beautiful reminder of the Keys’ past glories.

To earn All-American Road status under the National Scenic Byways program, a road must have nationally significant archeological, cultural, historic, natural, recreational and/or scenic qualities — and must possess features that don’t exist anywhere else, making it a visitor destination in itself.

The Overseas Highway certainly fits the bill. It’s the first and only Florida road to achieve All-American status, and it joins just 30 other All-American Roads in the entire U.S. So the designation is prestigious indeed.

But no matter how impressive the honor, it can’t eclipse the status the Overseas Highway already possesses in the hearts of Keys residents and those who wish they were. It’s our highway, our connection to each other and the outside world — and always, our road home.

Topics: Big Pine Key & Lower Keys, Environment, Highlights, History, Islamorada, Key Largo, Key West, Marathon, Voices Main Archive

It’s not easy to costume a cat. Particularly when the cat is a 20-pound male Norwegian Forest Cat named Alex, who’s very conscious of his dignity, and the costume is a tasteful silk dress and a rope of pearls.

Clearly, Alex is not yet comfortable in his Pet Masquerade attire.

Getting him used to his finery is likely to be a lengthy process involving hisses, claws and curses (both human and feline), but I’m determined to prevail. And I’m not alone in this odd purr-suit.

All over the Florida Keys, otherwise sane people are constructing costumes for their cats, dogs, ferrets, potbellied pigs, ducks and heaven knows what other domestic species. The people are absolutely serious about this enterprise, though most of the animals are as uneasy as Alex.

What’s behind this strange phenomenon? A costume competition for critters, known as the WKEYZ Pet Masquerade and Parade, which is a highlight of Key West’s 10-day Fantasy Fest masking and costuming celebration that’s held each October.

The animal antics take place on an oceanfront stage at Key West’s historic Casa Marina Resort & Beach Club. And believe me, the fur really flies when several dozen costumed pets and their people strut their stuff in front of a few thousand enthusiastic spectators.

Past Pet Masquerade entries have ranged from the simple to the extraordinarily intricate ... like this one involving a very patient dog. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Entries usually range from simple pet-and-person duos to multi-member animal-and-human ensembles attempting to perform musical numbers. A panel of bemused judges awards prizes in categories including most exotic attire and pet-owner look-alikes.

Among the more bizarre past entries have been a flock of giant “chicken people” who cavorted onstage with a dog named Weasel to the strains of the “Super Chicken” cartoon theme song, a duck lounging in a bathtub on wheels, a team of miniature dachshunds pulling a miniature covered wagon, a parakeet riding in a tiny remote-controlled car, and a musical salute to Alfred Hitchcock’s “The Birds” featuring a blonde-wigged Borzoi hound costumed as “Birds” actress Tippi Hedren.

The Borzoi was a regular Pet Masquerade contender whose human companion, Madeleine Burnside, delighted in staging complex song-and-dance routines featuring the dog and a multi-person entourage.

One year, Key West mortgage banker David Koontz was a member of that entourage. For reasons known only to Madeleine, the costume she chose for him included a large cutlass and purple body paint applied liberally to his skin and hair.

Kelsey Morris and her duck Prissy shared "top billing" in a past Pet Masquerade. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Unfortunately, she neglected to tell him the body paint didn’t wash off very well. The day after Pet Masquerade, David flew to New York City to attend a high-level national mortgage bankers’ conference — where he spent most of his time explaining why his skin and hair had a distinct purple hue.

With 2009’s Pet Masquerade set for Oct. 28, Florida Keys pet lovers are stitching sequins and feathers onto costumes, reluctant animals are fleeing from fittings, and David Koontz is avoiding both body paint and Borzois.

As for me, I’m still trying to convince Alex the Norwegian Forest Cat that he looks terrific in a silk dress and pearls.

Topics: Animal Ambassadors, Events, Festivals, Highlights, Key West, LGBT, Local Color, Quirks

If you want to be mistaken for a Florida Keys resident — or at least an island-savvy regular visitor — don’t ever say “kontch.” The word “conch” is pronounced “konk,” like a conk on the head (which is what you deserve if you persist in using the wrong pronunciation).

The fluted, pink-lined conch shell was used by early Keys seafarers (usually older than the crew pictured here!) as a signaling device.

For those of you who haven’t encountered it before, a conch is a mollusk (sometimes known as a sea snail). That might not sound too appetizing, but actually conch meat is served and savored in at least half the restaurants from Key Largo to Key West.

It tastes a bit like abalone, and you can find it in creamy white or tomato-based chowder, chewy deep-fried fritters served with cocktail sauce or mustard sauce, and even breaded and fried as conch steak. No two restaurants prepare it quite the same way — which means you can have a great time sampling conch in many different eateries, comparing tastes and cooking techniques.

As well as eating conch, early Keys residents used its fluted pink-lined shell as a horn for long-distance signaling. And according to legend, they came to admire the mollusk’s tough, hardy nature so much that they adopted its name for themselves.

Many things in the Keys bear the name "Conch." Here, NBC "Today" weatherman Al Roker, left, rides the Conch Tour Train during a live broadcast from the island chain. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Today, conch is no longer fished in the Keys, but the word “conch” refers to someone born in the island chain — which is affectionately known as the Conch Republic.

How did that name come about? Like many other things in the Keys, it’s a long story. It involves loaves of stale Cuban bread, a governmental border checkpoint, a request for $1 billion in foreign aid, and the Florida Keys’ 1982 secession from the United States.

The story began when a U.S. Border Patrol checkpoint was set up without warning in Florida City, at the head of the Keys, ostensibly so agents could search cars for drugs and illegal aliens. The roadblock created a traffic jam miles long on U.S. 1, the only road that connects the island chain to mainland Florida, for vehicles leaving the Keys.

The massive traffic delays threatened to derail the fledgling tourism industry and made locals furious. The border patrol checkpoint, they figured, meant the government was treating their beloved Keys like a foreign country. With impeccable logic, they decided the island chain should BECOME a foreign country.

In 1982, hundreds gathered to watch the historic secession ceremony and birth of the independent Conch Republic.

On April 23, 1982, in front of an enthusiastic crowd at Key West’s Mallory Square, a hardy group of patriots proclaimed the Keys the independent Conch Republic and hoisted a flag bearing a large conch shell on a field of blue. They declared war on the United States by ceremoniously bopping a U.S. Navy sailor on the head with a loaf of stale Cuban bread, surrendered 60 seconds later and demanded $1 billion in foreign aid.

The story of the secession captured international attention, and the imaginations of thousands of people who flocked to visit the new country. During the excitement caused by the birth of a nation, the Border Patrol checkpoint quietly vanished, never to reappear.

NBC "Today" weatherman Al Roker, left, shows a Conch Republic flag during a special broadcast with anchor Matt Lauer, right, from the fabled republic. (Photo by Andy Newman/Florida Keys News Bureau)

Loyal citizens are still waiting for the foreign aid (no surprise there). But that hasn’t dampened the spirit of the republic, whose motto is “we seceded where others failed.” Conch Republic passports and royal blue flags are as popular today as they were in 1982, and ambassadorships are highly prized.

If you can’t visit the island nation any time soon — or, if you want to learn more about it while planning a tropical trek — check out www.conchrepublic.com. And when you do arrive, remember one vital rule: don’t ever call it the “Kontch” Republic.

Topics: Highlights, History, Local Color, Quirks, Voices Main Archive