Anyone who knows me will tell you that I am a lazy bastard. Oh, I know I talk a big game about getting out and enjoying the Florida sunshine, but you’re far more likely to find me in my natural habitat: the cool, dark recesses of a restaurant or bar. Particularly at this time of the year it seems I am eternally making outrageous excuses for my indolence and near-phobic aversion to the heat. (“Er, sorry…can’t play volleyball today…still nursing that jammed finger from junior high…”)
So, I’m certain that it will come as a bit of a surprise that my topic of choice in this very muggy month of August is none other that that playground for the uber-active, Fort DeSoto Park.
Anybody who knows anything about the Tampa Bay area has heard of Fort DeSoto. I’m sure I needn’t fill you in but, for the uninitiated – and it seems there are always a few of you – here is the requisite info: Fort DeSoto is the jewel of the Pinellas County Park’s system located at the very southern tip of the county and is home to some of the finest beaches, campsites, boating and fishing in the land. The park is also the “gateway site” for the Great Florida Birding Trail (who knew?).
According to Pinellas County’s website, the park property was first purchased from the federal government in 1938 for $12,500. In 1941 the property was sold back to the federal government for $18,404 to be used as a gunnery and bombing range during World War II. The property was repurchased from the feds in 1948 for $26,500. This clearly illustrates either some extremely poor real estate investing on the part of the county or, simply the fact that property values were skyrocketing even then.
Oh well. What matters is that we have it now. And what, exactly, did we get for all that dough? Well, nothing that Florida wasn’t full of at the time: untainted, mosquito-ridden waterfront property. Oh, and a big, fat fort.
Of course, we folks in the know like to call the whole park “the Fort.” As in, “Hey, big cookout at the Fort!” and “Didya hear about the shark attack at the Fort?” (Actually, nobody calls it “the Fort,” but wouldn’t it be cool if we all did? Let’s start a fun new trend, people!)
Anyway, there really is a fort at Fort DeSoto, which puts us in very cool company alongside St. Augustine and San Juan in Puerto Rico, though ours is not nearly as old. According to fortdesoto.com (NOT the official website for the park), construction on the fort began in 1898, but it “was never the site of any major battle, and the weapons of Fort De Soto…were never fired in anger at an enemy.” Perhaps in a moment of irritation, then.
Well, the fort is cool, nonetheless. And, occasionally, mock civil war battles are fought there (so you can either grab your confederate cap or go make fun, whatever floats your boat). But, what makes the park stand out (and, as a person only marginally more active than a tree sloth, I’m putting myself out on a limb, here) is all the cool stuff you can do there!
Torpidity aside, I, the human pet rock, have actually walked the Fort’s nature trails, steered my bike along its paved paths, and fallen – in countless unflattering positions – onto its sandspurs with rollerblades still attached to my feet. But that’s just for starters.
You can now rent a kayak or canoe and paddle the Fort’s canoe trails (or find uncharted territories of your own, potentially ambushing nude beach proponents). This happens to be my favorite Fort activity as it requires far less inertia and far greater rewards, from stingray sightings to the possibility of mangrove crabs jumping in your boat.
I have eaten fresh fish caught from the Fort area, and can say that they’re as fine as any tilapia (ahem, I mean grouper) in our Bay area. And, while I’m not a fan of terrorizing animals for my own amusement (sorry, sport fishers), I’m sure there’s plenty of fun to be had in that department as well. Boaters and fisherfolk alike (though I’m sure they already know), the Fort is your friend.
Add to all this outdoor abandon tons of great picnic sites, goofy carriage bicycles, vast undeveloped beaches, and a smattering of concessions stands, and I think you’ll get my drift when I say that the Fort totally rocks. It’s no coincidence that you’ve got to call, like, a bazillion months in advance to reserve a campsite (I hear they’re now taking names for Christmas 2012).
I’m telling you, as soon as I can get off the couch, I am so there.
Published in The Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 8/23/07
August 18, 2007
August 8, 2007
Are We This Sick?
Is Her Blood On the Wall?
New Report Has Cops Worried
New Report Has Cops Worried
SEE HOW HER PARENTS REACT
This is the current headline on AOL regarding the little girl, Madeline, who disappeared in Portugal recently.
There are few words to express - as a journalist and a human being - how repulsive this is to me. Have we become so anaesthetised that we are thirsty for this kind of "news"?
I don't want to see how her parents react. I've seen enough of grief to know - and I don't need it bandied about as entertainment. Or worse, news.
It is NOT news that these parents are living the biggest nightmare of their lives. It is not news that they are pleading against reason for the life of their little girl.
I don't want to live in a society that can not control its own fetish for voyeurism. Yet, I am overcome with this hopeless realization: we will never evolve past mindless brutality. We are simply too fascinated by the pain of others and betrayed by our own carnal lust to see it.
What hypocrites we are.
Condo Complex
I may have mentioned this before, but I’m really a bit of a history geek. I’m not talking about a bunch of boring dates and wars – the kind of enormously uninteresting history they like to teach you in school. What excites me is the common stuff – the kinds of things that make you feel like you could actually step into another time – like photos, journals, and clothing. (It doesn’t even have to be that old, really. I’ve been known to dork out over an original Rubik’s Cube or a Rolling Stone from 1975.) I dig old cars especially, but my true love has to be architecture.
I’ve never been abroad, but I think I might fall into ecstatic convulsions if I could lay my own eyes on the Tower of London or, God help me, the Coliseum in Rome. As it is, I live in a 1925 bungalow that I am in love with for its sheer, decrepit oldness. (I also want to rip out my hair over its sheer, decrepit oldness, but that’s another story.)
In Florida – a handful of Spanish forts notwithstanding – my house is one of the oldest things around. Let’s face it, until the marvel of air conditioning (and serious mosquito control), Florida real estate was undesirable, if not practically uninhabitable.
Naturally, St. Petersburg is not exactly a mecca for historic architecture, but we do have a smattering of old buildings – some of which are actually cared for and maintained. Others, like the woeful YMCA building downtown, have been left to languish. Of course, there’s always hope: the Vinoy – that gloriously restored, carnation pink feather in St. Pete’s cap – was a pathetic, abandoned heap for nearly twenty years until its 93 million dollar salvation.
Big money restorations are a rare thing, however, particularly in a city where “historic” is a very relative designation. Who wants to spend loads of money on a “fixer-upper” when they could just demolish a whole city block and start from scratch? The bread-and-butter of Florida real estate has always been new construction and, by the looks of downtown, high-rise condos have at last taken over.
Have you seen these monsters? How could you miss them, really? And you can’t walk three blocks without coming up against a plastic construction barrier advertising some attractive, happy (and clearly, very rich) people lounging in a mock-up of a soon-to-be-built penthouse suite. Since 2005, no less than 14 condominium towers (not including Progress Energy’s new office high-rise) have been planned or completed in the downtown area. People are actually talking about a St. Petersburg “skyline.”
Well, no, it’s hardly Chicago or NYC. And, thanks to Albert Whitted Airport and FAA restrictions, we’ll never have a behemoth like the Chrysler building. But, from a distance, it certainly seems that there may soon be more to characterize St. Petersburg than the Bank of America “tower” and the featureless white lump of Tropicana Field.
While St. Petersburg is getting a skyline that may one day be worthy of etching on a Starbuck’s mug, the most interesting changes are actually happening on the ground. You see, if developers want to attract big-spending residents who can actually afford these condos, they’ve got to throw in better amenities than a pool and a view. Who wants to drop that kind of dough when the coolest neighborhood feature is The Pier? (No offense to The Pier, but honestly, we’ve all done enough novelty hat shopping and fudge eating to last us until the in-laws come back in town.)
This is where we – the lowly majority of area residents who will probably never even know these condo types, let alone afford one of their flats – get thrown a bone. You see, these proliferating towers have now mutated into entire communities. Where once we might find only a foreboding and lavishly guarded front entrance, we now find welcoming (if pricey) retail stores. Remember when Beach Drive was little more than a couple of jewelry shops and the kind of art galleries your grandmother would like?
In one block alone, under the colossal shadow of the new Parkshore Plaza (where, according to the condo association’s website, residents enjoy “unparalleled service and sophisticated, indulgent, urban living”), we common folk can now experience reasonably-priced, decent dining at the (brilliantly-named) Parkshore Grill, a dizzying array of herbal beverages at The Hooker Tea Company, or (and, I think this is what the Parkshore people mean when they say “indulgent”) the “Italian Gelato Renaissance” in Paciugo Caffe.
There are dozens more condo-shops where these came from, either opening their doors, or in the works. I have no doubt that in the next few years you will be able to shop Baby Gap, enjoy Seattle’s Best coffee, and register at Crate & Barrel – all within view of the downtown waterfront. I never thought I’d see the day, but St. Petersburg is fast evolving from “God’s Waiting Room” to “Yuppie Playground.”
I have to admit that the part of me that wonders about the days of the green benches is a little bit heartbroken. That part of me that, ten years ago reveled in the gritty debauchery of Club Detroit (itself a reincarnation of St. Pete’s first hotel, the Detroit) is sad to see an era come to its end. In a few years, there will be condos clamoring for space next to the State Theater (if the State can survive) and I’m sure that even Janus Landing’s days are numbered.
As Florida’s thirst for new construction outstrips its respect for the old, I will simply have to satisfy myself with the few salvaged pieces of our past. Who knows? Maybe somebody will restore the YMCA building.
But, after all, you can’t stand in the way of progress. And, until I can set foot in the Sistine Chapel, I can at least stick a spoon in some awesome gelato.
Published in The Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 8/2/07
I’ve never been abroad, but I think I might fall into ecstatic convulsions if I could lay my own eyes on the Tower of London or, God help me, the Coliseum in Rome. As it is, I live in a 1925 bungalow that I am in love with for its sheer, decrepit oldness. (I also want to rip out my hair over its sheer, decrepit oldness, but that’s another story.)
In Florida – a handful of Spanish forts notwithstanding – my house is one of the oldest things around. Let’s face it, until the marvel of air conditioning (and serious mosquito control), Florida real estate was undesirable, if not practically uninhabitable.
Naturally, St. Petersburg is not exactly a mecca for historic architecture, but we do have a smattering of old buildings – some of which are actually cared for and maintained. Others, like the woeful YMCA building downtown, have been left to languish. Of course, there’s always hope: the Vinoy – that gloriously restored, carnation pink feather in St. Pete’s cap – was a pathetic, abandoned heap for nearly twenty years until its 93 million dollar salvation.
Big money restorations are a rare thing, however, particularly in a city where “historic” is a very relative designation. Who wants to spend loads of money on a “fixer-upper” when they could just demolish a whole city block and start from scratch? The bread-and-butter of Florida real estate has always been new construction and, by the looks of downtown, high-rise condos have at last taken over.
Have you seen these monsters? How could you miss them, really? And you can’t walk three blocks without coming up against a plastic construction barrier advertising some attractive, happy (and clearly, very rich) people lounging in a mock-up of a soon-to-be-built penthouse suite. Since 2005, no less than 14 condominium towers (not including Progress Energy’s new office high-rise) have been planned or completed in the downtown area. People are actually talking about a St. Petersburg “skyline.”
Well, no, it’s hardly Chicago or NYC. And, thanks to Albert Whitted Airport and FAA restrictions, we’ll never have a behemoth like the Chrysler building. But, from a distance, it certainly seems that there may soon be more to characterize St. Petersburg than the Bank of America “tower” and the featureless white lump of Tropicana Field.
While St. Petersburg is getting a skyline that may one day be worthy of etching on a Starbuck’s mug, the most interesting changes are actually happening on the ground. You see, if developers want to attract big-spending residents who can actually afford these condos, they’ve got to throw in better amenities than a pool and a view. Who wants to drop that kind of dough when the coolest neighborhood feature is The Pier? (No offense to The Pier, but honestly, we’ve all done enough novelty hat shopping and fudge eating to last us until the in-laws come back in town.)
This is where we – the lowly majority of area residents who will probably never even know these condo types, let alone afford one of their flats – get thrown a bone. You see, these proliferating towers have now mutated into entire communities. Where once we might find only a foreboding and lavishly guarded front entrance, we now find welcoming (if pricey) retail stores. Remember when Beach Drive was little more than a couple of jewelry shops and the kind of art galleries your grandmother would like?
In one block alone, under the colossal shadow of the new Parkshore Plaza (where, according to the condo association’s website, residents enjoy “unparalleled service and sophisticated, indulgent, urban living”), we common folk can now experience reasonably-priced, decent dining at the (brilliantly-named) Parkshore Grill, a dizzying array of herbal beverages at The Hooker Tea Company, or (and, I think this is what the Parkshore people mean when they say “indulgent”) the “Italian Gelato Renaissance” in Paciugo Caffe.
There are dozens more condo-shops where these came from, either opening their doors, or in the works. I have no doubt that in the next few years you will be able to shop Baby Gap, enjoy Seattle’s Best coffee, and register at Crate & Barrel – all within view of the downtown waterfront. I never thought I’d see the day, but St. Petersburg is fast evolving from “God’s Waiting Room” to “Yuppie Playground.”
I have to admit that the part of me that wonders about the days of the green benches is a little bit heartbroken. That part of me that, ten years ago reveled in the gritty debauchery of Club Detroit (itself a reincarnation of St. Pete’s first hotel, the Detroit) is sad to see an era come to its end. In a few years, there will be condos clamoring for space next to the State Theater (if the State can survive) and I’m sure that even Janus Landing’s days are numbered.
As Florida’s thirst for new construction outstrips its respect for the old, I will simply have to satisfy myself with the few salvaged pieces of our past. Who knows? Maybe somebody will restore the YMCA building.
But, after all, you can’t stand in the way of progress. And, until I can set foot in the Sistine Chapel, I can at least stick a spoon in some awesome gelato.
Published in The Gabber Newspaper, Gulfport, FL 8/2/07
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