Sticks of Fire: a Tampa blog

Got a new poll up here at Sticks — and you best be quick to vote, because those shopping days are counting down to a precious few! What does Tampa Bay want for Christmas?!

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Before you jump ahead and vote for OTHER because you got no clue why we’d suggest a train set, a fruitcake and a new baseball glove as gifts — these responses are all allusions to other things.

A train set, of course, is alluding to mass transit and rail. A gift card? A stronger economy. Fruitcake with less nuts? Well, seeing fruitcake is a tough holiday treat to swallow as is — we’re talking about government there. “Less nuts” should seem obvious.

Lego blocks? Development. A new hockey stick? Anyone paying attention to the Tampa Bay Lightning’s woes this season will understand the reference. And baseball MITT? Something that surrounds the ball itself — we’re talking stadium…

Of course, there are other allusions for local wants and needs out there that we can’t even begin to imagine — thus the OTHER selection. We’d love to hear your ideas in comments.

You may have read about the fire that destroyed the Imago Art Colony. A fundraiser is being held this Wednesday evening.

If you are not able to attend, but would like to make a donation, please make your checks payable to P.A.V.A., and mail them to PO Box 2665, Dunedin, FL 34697. For more information on the benefit and other volunteer opportunities, check in at the Dunedin Fine Arts Center website, http://www.dfac.org/.

Thanks to Megan Voeller at art squeeze (and the art critic for Creative Loafing, where I interned at this time last year) for posting about the event in her blog.

So after my recent post about the fun to be had downtown in St Pete (as opposed to downtown Tampa which is about as fun on a Saturday as a root canal) I promised that I would also post about the nighttime scene there. Autopsy kindly offered to be my guide since he lives nearby so I grabbed a friend and headed to 727 last Saturday night.

Now I have partied in St Pete before but I never really spent much time downtown. The bars close at 2am after all so really I figured what was the point? Autopsy set out to prove me wrong.

I parked near Central for free. There is a lot of free on street parking downtown but beware, some blocks require a residential parking permit and some parking lots are private proerty and you are taking a risk if you park there. Just pay attention to the posted signs and you’ll be fine. First we all loaded up in the Autopsy-mobile with Mrs Autopsy, us and the Mildred the pit bull. We took a short ride up to Steve’s Bar.

Steve’s is a drinker’s sports bar located on Central between 9th and 10th streets. Pool, jukebox, several flat paneled televisions and a long comfy bar to sidle up to. Mildred the pit bull is at home here and everyone was friendly. The music is low enough to allow conversation and the drinks are priced right too. Actually I could have happily spent the whole night here but we were on a mission. We left the girls at Steve’s and headed east towards the water.

Next on the list was Durty Nelly’s. I liked the feel of this place, like a dark and alcoholic living room. It was too crowded when I was there and we left quickly to check out who was playing at the Emerald. A loud rock band was just what I wanted to hear and the Emerald never fails me. I never get how they manage to squeeze a band in at the end of the bar but it works. It is a bit odd to have to walk between the band and the patrons to get to the bathroom in the back but nobody minds. When they have no bands I am told the old jukebox still works, although I have never been to this place when there wasn’t a band coming on, about to come on, or just breaking down.

After a few more drinks we headed back to the street and walked down to The Lobby to hear some jazz. The Lobby is a rambling affair with several rooms and different themes going on. There is the club area with music and a very cool atmosphere. The patio with its resident jazz band and nice conversation in the chilly weather and a side bar with big tables and air conditioning cold enough to hang meat. I got a little attitude for actually hanging out at the bar here from the otherwise pleasant bartender though which was a little odd.

We hit the road now that it was after 1am and wanted to try one more place. Corrigan’s is not on Central, it is just a block south though on Beach Drive. The good news is that it is smoke free (ok for some that is bad news) but it is a good place to end the night. After last call we walked down by the water to enjoy the pleasant night and the absence of sirens, loud music, and that tense feeling of impending violence that you get some nights in Ybor. If Ybor is Bourbon street then St Pete is Decatur, if you get the reference.

The next time your Saint Pete friends say they don’t want to drive over to Tampa ask if they’d rather stay local. It really isn’t as far as you think and is a safer and cheaper alternative to your regular Ybor/North Tampa/T&C/Brandon hangout. Also I am sure that missed a ton of great places so St Pete residents why don’t you leave some comments with your favorite bar or night spot on your side of the bay.

It’s been a busy couple weeks around here, what with my roommate Jennifer getting engaged, other friends getting married, Devil Rays news, and what have you. This past weekend alone was a fine vignette of episodes that make you kind of appreciate how nice it can be to live here sometimes.

It all started with the phenomenal support Thursday for the Rays’ uniform/branding unveiling which was, to use an accurate and inescapable cliché, fun for the whole family. (See my photo gallery here or check out their promo video and the arrival of the “new” Raymond mascot.) I didn’t stick around for the Kevin Costner concert, but it seemed that most of the 7,000+ attendees were there for some hard-rockin’ action. Yet I was impressed by how many of the Rays took time off from their offseason to come by and model for the fans — and don’t get me started on the news leaked the next day about a new stadium.

Saturday brought the wedding of my friends Brian and Melissa; the ceremony was lovely, and the folks at Maggiano’s surprised me with their attention to detail (i.e. drinks) and terrific food — confirming for me that restaurants can beat caterers at their own game. Things didn’t go so smoothly at the Tampa Doubletree, where no fewer than three of my friends were given rooms (and keys to them) that were already occupied. I’m pretty sure that’s about the worst thing you can do when running a hotel. Personally, I don’t mind if someone barges in on me while I’m in my skivs watching Countdown with Keith Olbermann but I understand that upsets some people.

Sunday, though, was a treat, as I was finally able to catch the curtain-closer of Jobsite Theater’s Gorey Stories. The Grapefruit Gal looked at the program and said scornfully, “You brought me to a musical?” Yet her skepticism was quickly dispersed by David Jenkins’ wonderfully-directed cornucopia of the macabre, and I found it quite unlike anything I would consider boring. The G-Gal liked the costumes, the makeup, and the set design, and I liked Katrina Stevenson’s legs. It was a winner all around!

We topped it off with a visit to my local pizzeria, the Clearwater Country Pizza Inn; I was as skeptical about a Greek-Italian joint as I was about Giorgio de Chirico (Rene Magritte, please) but the quad-cheese pizza is pretty good and the baklava is a great deal at only $2.50.

I know I’ve had my criticisms for aspects of Bay life, but sometimes a fairly mundane weekend can remind you of the little things that give us advantages over, well, places where I’ve lived before. Like Ohio.

A couple of weeks ago (remember the sticky heat of summer?) my girlfriend and I had the bright idea of going to Lowry Park Zoo. Now I have been to the Zoo plenty of times over the years and usually had a good time, the last time I was there was maybe two years ago. The park seemed to have changed quite a bit in the interim and I was sad to see the decline. The heat was oppressive, but I am used the that. Busch Gardens solves that with misters and an abundance of shade. Lowry Park doesn’t have much shade for visitors or their animals. The animals solve this by finding any scrap of shade and not moving at all but we didn’t have that option. The staff of the park was pretty lackluster as well. Very few places were open to serve refreshments due, I assume, to the low attendance. Those that were open were staffed by folks who looked as if they were just there to satisfy the provisions of their probation.

I don’t like to focus on the negative aspects when I write for Sticks so I will cut to the chase. We called it a loss and split for better times.

Wanting a cool treat we headed across the Bay to St Petersburg’s downtown waterfront and Beach Drive. After parking for free we walked along Beach drive and tried Gelato. A constantly rotating array of ice cream flavors is served in cups that can hold three or five different flavors. Caffeine addict? Have a shot of espresso served over you ice cream too. If you still need a pick me up walk next door to Hooker Teas for a chilled drink to walk with. We window shopped at antique stores we could never afford and then walked through the park and took our pictures in front of the majestic and cool Banyan trees. Baywalk is right there too. For a small fee you can take a walk though the Museum of Fine Arts and enjoy art while strolling though air conditioned galleries and cool courtyards.

When you get done with the shopping district hop back in your car and drive further south on 4th Street South and turn onto Roser Park drive. Roser Park is a tiny oasis where the sound of water drowns out any lingering traffic noise and the old brick streets are so uneven that cars cannot speed through and disrupt the peace. Think of it as traffic calming early 20th century style. You can find parking on the street for free and take a walk along the path next to Booker creek. Trees loom over your head and provide a cool shelter from the sun. Sit on a bench and look at the historic homes sitting on top of high bluffs that look utterly unlike anything else I have ever seen in flat-as-a-pancake coastal Florida. So the next day you have off and want to do something local, something to break your routine without breaking your wallet, something to give you a respite from the hot and muggy take a quick drive downtown and think, “Wouldn’t it be nice if Tampa could figure out how they did this?”

BTW- Coming soon (or when I get around to it) “Central Avenue After Dark” or “Ybor Sans Handguns and Omni Parking”

Over and over again lately there have been revelations from Hillsborough County alone with it’s transit planning. Long range planning. Beltway planning. Just today the St. Petersburg Times ran a story about the Tampa Chamber of Commerce visiting Charlotte, North Carolina and being wowed by Light Rail and kept thinking of the Tampa-centric possibilities…

And I worry.

Oh, I’m on board with improvements to transit in the area. But that’s the thing — the area. The region. The greater Tampa Bay metropolitan area. Not county-by-county, separate-but-equal systems that continue the short-sighted, go-it-alone plans that usually end with wider roads, or more roads and complaints that we (read: a single county entity) can’t afford this, that and the other thing, won’t support anything other than roads and citizens should be happy with what they have.

More of the same. More of the insane.

This year, local legislative members in the state house and state senate helped deliver a regional body to organize and govern area transportation needs. The Tampa Bay Area Regional Transit Authority was born during the regular legislative session. Of course, Charlie Crist cut seed money to get TBARTA started, but that was to be expected with a property tax backlash and state budget shortfalls.

With the lack of start-up money in mind, let me introduce you to TBARTA’s web presence.

Also with the state-money-cut in mind, let me remind you who ultimately has control of TBARTA — we do. Hernando, Pasco, Pinellas, Hillsborough, Manatee and Sarasota counties. Where there’s a start-up money crunch, those seven entities could have and should have put forward a pittance of cash each to get things going.

What we’re seeing — though each of those counties are represented in TBARTA by elected officials — is a pittance of faith in the concept. Hillsborough is stressing further go-it-alone planning and approved milking it’s community investment tax money for county road improvements. The other counties continue their day-to-day operations without thought toward this new joint entity.

You’re not going to see administration and coverage coordination in the local bus systems because the counties will keep their transit systems to themselves when it’d be easier to toss that to TBARTA’s rule. Perish the thought that PSTA and HART become a unified entity that is no longer dictated by the whims of close-minded, ideological county commission members. Perish the thought of improved transit between the biggest (population wise) counties of the region. Perish the thought that local officials will put faith in the new organization with responsibilities and funding to pay for them.

Yes, TBARTA is a fledgling entity that has only met a handful of times — it’s next meeting is Friday morning at 9 AM at the Hillsborough County Center in downtown Tampa — yet one has to wonder if local government is going to breathe life into it or condemn it to irrelevance and ultimately death for the sake of traditional go-it-alone bullheadedness?
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Update:: Tampa Rail pointed readers to the Tampa Bay Area Regional Transportation Authority official web site. That is a correction to the web site which I stumbled upon that I thought was TBARTA’s official web presence. The domains were provided by the Tampa Bay Partnership.

What’s the statute of limitations on claiming you’re “new in town”? This past weekend marked a year since I moved to Pinellas from New Tampa, and yet I’m still using the “new in town” trick to explain why I don’t really know anyone on this side of the bay. I made my core group of friends in New Tampa less than a week after moving to Florida; why, then, have I had such a struggle with building a similar social life here in Pinellas?

We ethnographers often use studies in contrasts to better understand the culture we’re observing. By looking at oxymorons or anachronisms we can get to what’s really happening. With that in mind, I headed Friday to Dunedin’s Martini Club to watch my favorite local band, Basic Rock Outfit. Having been juiced by their great performance at the LA Hangout on Thursday night (covered on my own blog) I was excited to see them again, and at a place practically down the street compared to all the way over in Lutz.

The fact I like BRO is itself a contradiction; I’m usually not into the heavier rock styles, but these guys really melt your face off and have some beautiful songs. They’re going to hit it big, and they play shows five nights a week all over the Bay area, so I encourage you to check them out. Dunedin’s Martini Club is across the street from Knology Park, on the currently-under-construction Douglas Ave. Douglas Avenue has been a wreck for months, and I’m told they won’t be able to pave it until a full day comes along without rain, which in August is unlikely, and it was probably not the best idea to execute a street repaving in the summer, but that’s Pinellas County for you.

You might think, given its name, that Martini Club would be a high-class, ritzy place, like Blue Martini or Martini Bar. It is not. I don’t mean that in any negative manner, seriously. Martini Club is more of a “roadhouse” feel, dirty and smoky and filled with trucker-capped mulleted locals, drinking $1.50 PBRs. BRO was up to their usual rockingness, and during their first break I struck up a few conversations, as I usually do in places where I don’t know anyone.

A balding man in a grey tank top and missing a few teeth asked me what I did.

“I teach,” I answered.

“What do you teach?”

“Persuasion.”

“Well how can I persuade you to get outta my f*ckin’ face?”

I felt like I’d fallen into some kind of comedic trap. Yet this is the kind of response I’ve gotten everywhere in Pinellas, be it the bookstore, supermarket, or St. Pete Beach cabana bar. I’m not sure what the hangup is, but it’s some insight into the barriers I’ve found on this side of the bay. (I should note that the Martini Club bartenders were fantastic and the friendliest people in the bar.)

It was nice, though, to see how well people took to the band; most of the bar’s patrons had never heard of Basic Rock Outfit, and I saw several purchasing CDs as the bar was closing (at the odd time of 1:30) which made me happy, though three hours of mingling hadn’t resulted in a single conversation of more than a minute or so. I’ve often compared Hillsborough to Pinellas with a drug reference: “Tampa is to St. Pete as coke is to weed.” After a year of living on this side, I’m not sure the analogy works anymore.

Maybe I’ll figure it out eventually. After all, I’m new in town.

I recently rediscovered the Courtney Campbell Causeway. You rarely hear about this bridge’s beauty these days. Normally the only mention that you hear of it is when there is a fatal crash or a well known figure is arrested there. The causeway is the northernmost bridge over Old Tampa Bay linking Pinellas and Hillsborough counties and is typical of the Floridian idea of a bridge.

Actually composed of several small islands linked by bridges, the causeway is a beautiful stretch of road for a driver. I prefer to go at night when the temperature is more reasonable and the traffic lighter. You can blast along at high speed with the windows down like Crockett and Tubbs in Miami Vice, palm trees zipping by and the night air thick in your hair. Or you can lope along at a comfortable pace enjoying the beauty of the last rays of the western sun hitting the tops of the palms trees and the hotels while down below the cars and restaurants have long since turned on their lights. You can pull off at several points where an access road and parking areas are open all night.

Fishermen launch boats off of the Causeway. Kids come out there to race and show off their modified cars. It’s a popular place to watch or set off fireworks. Couples come out do, uh, couple things. Other people come for the solitude and, I suspect, there are more than a few clandestine meetings here.

North of the causeway is a tangle of mangroves and salty marsh that hide troves of fish. South is the bay, laid out in dark blue splendor reflecting the city lights. Past the water you see the amber necklace of the Howard Frankland Bridge which is a few miles south of the causeway and far more heavily traveled. At either end of that necklace are clusters of city lights from offices, hotels, skyscrapers, malls. The other bridges, the simple two lane Gandy and the massive soaring Sunshine Skyway, are invisible at this elevation.

So the next night you have nothing to do and are thinking of going to Ybor or find a movie that you don’t really want to see anyway remember that there are a lot of fun places to go in Tampa Bay. Take a drive out to the causeway, bring a cooler and a couple of chairs and watch the sunset with somebody you care about because having fun does not always mean you have to pay a parking fee and a cover charge.