Let’s mix it up today. After last week’s dip into the Key West mayor’s race, which def tweaked the sensibilities of the politically aware who assumed they knew my political views, we need a respite. No drama. No politics. Well, except for a quick clarification of two sentences in that column.

Here’s what I wrote. Pay attention to the second sentence: “How could [Sam] Kaufman not have at least heard the rumors about — and taken earlier action on — the corruption nightmare that resulted in criminal indictments against our former city attorney, chief building official and code compliance director? He sat on that dais with former Mayor Teri Johnston when those three were actively undermining city law.”

Here’s what readers pounced on: Au contraire, they exclaimed. Danise Henriquez was mayor when the corruption was happening. She’s the one who covered it up and there wasn’t a darn thing Kaufman could do.

Nope. Johnston was mayor. On the commission with her then were Lissette Carey, Mary Lou Hoover, Kaufman, Clayton Lopez, Billy Wardlow and Jimmy Weekley.

Here’s the timeline: The grand jury, which issued the criminal indictments, considered evidence related to events from 2021 to 2024. Henriquez was sworn in on August 26, 2024. The grand jury issued its report in April 2025. I may not like how the current city commission majority often votes, but let’s at least keep in mind that only two of the current seven members — Carey and Kaufman — were in office when the three city officials were running amok.

Done and moving on.

Politics, raccoons and spring break: A good time had by all

Don’t this just beat all? Casa Cunningham’s got its very own Torch Key raccoon living under the porch. The other subspecies native to our islands, the Key Vaca raccoon, prefers the Middle and sorta-Upper Keys.

There we were out in the yard hunting Easter eggs with the grandson when this striped furry thing emerged from the coonties. Neighborhood cat, I first thought — but why was its tail kinda chopped off? Lovely thing. All honey and chocolate with smudged eye shadow. ‘Bout 15 pounds, I’m guessing, because the raccoon was the size of our cats. Well fed, sleek and inquisitive.

Bless its pea-pickin’ heart. Calling it Rix. Nice gender-neutral name (I’m not doing any inspections) and slightly less cliche than Ricky.

Speaking of the grandson (see above), Connor’s spending his Georgia spring break on the island.

Connor lives in the sprawling car-centric culture of suburban Gwinnett County north of Atlanta. It’s a land of tall trees, multi-lane roads, SUVs and retail anchors. The school district is the 11th largest in the country, employs 24,000 staff and teaches 182,000 students. Its annual budget is $3.4 billion. Yes, with a “b.” Connor is used to big.

We spent Monday afternoon under the sea grapes at Fort Zach. Lazy hours encourage desultory conversation, so I asked him about his impressions of Key West. He didn’t hesitate.

“It’s so cozy,” he said. “Like comfortable cozy with everything close together and small. I’d probably walk a lot more here. Or ride my bike. And it’s pretty because it’s always green and the white fences are cool.” (We discussed the rainbow picket fences. He applauded the resistance to government overreach.)

Anything not to like, I asked. “The trash,” he said without missing a beat. “There’s so much trash everywhere. Even with a trash can right there, they still dropped it on the ground.” Ouch.

Could you live here? That took a little more thought. “Um, probably not,” he said. “I mean, I love vacationing here, so maybe like two or three times a year. But growing up here would be kinda hard.

“After a while you’d know everybody and you wouldn’t get to meet new people much. There’s not much for kids to do here if you’re not on vacation or aren’t into fishing and boats and things like that. I’d probably leave Key West once I graduated so I could learn how the rest of the world lives.”

At 13, Connor can be forgiven for missing some of the nuances of Key West family living. But his parachute-in observations are likely spot on. These days we are a grand vacation destination, a great place for some kids to grow up — and a great place for some to be from.