Secret Orlando Bonus Content: Happily Never After

Once again I've neglected my blogging. At least this time I had good reason, which was finishing up a full first draft of "Haunted Orlando." All the same though, there was plenty of content from "Secret Orlando" that never made it into print. I was hoping to include a chapter about Splendid China, but, alas, the last remnants of the ill-fated amusement park have finally been swept away. It lives on though, in old photos, memories, and now on Terra Incognita Americanus as well. 

Happily Never After

Why is there an animatronic panda atop a pagoda in the grocery store?

Despite Disney having transformed Orlando into a global entertainment Mecca, under the shadow of Cinderella’s Castle, not all amusement parks are destined for a fairytale ending. Such is the story of Splendid China, the vestiges of which have long outlasted the park itself.

The concept wasn’t novel when the 75-acre park opened in 1993 – it was modeled after the Splendid China in Shenzhen, China and similarly contained more than sixty, one-tenth scale, hand-crafted replicas of important Chinese cultural and historical sites including the Leshan Buddha and the Great Wall. The People’s Republic of China, which owned the park, invested as much as $100 million in constructing it.

From the outset, however, the Chinese government’s foray in the Central Florida tourism market was plagued with challenges. Early on, several of the performers brought over from China seem to have found their homeland something less than splendid when they applied for political asylum in the United States (after which they were replaced with local talent). There were numerous human rights protests and bans, which hurt attendance. The death stroke came in 2000 when the park’s president, Sunny Yang, was recalled to China amid allegations of financial mismanagement.

After the gates closed one final time on the last day of 2003, a horde of looters and vandals descended upon the abandoned attraction, making off with many of its tiny treasures. Next came the graffiti artists and urban explorers, who were followed by bulldozers making way for Jimmy Buffet’s Margaritaville Resort.

Still, remnants of the park linger – most notably within a Winn Dixie grocery store (which occupies a distinctly Chinese-looking strip mall). Inside the store, pagodas now house beer, suntan lotion and other miscellaneous goods while animatronic figures now spend their post-park existence looking down upon capitalism in action with smiles forever fixed on their faces.

The Story Behind the Story: Post Angeles

 As some of you probably know, I've been gradually easing into the writing of fiction. With my fourth book, "Secret Orlando: A Guide to the Weird, Wonderful and Obscure," now in production and a fifth book underway, I'm feeling confident enough in my abilities at last to go from recording my exploration of the external world to documenting the world (or worlds) that exist internally. It's a shift, but one that stems from my historical and travel writing, which I'm finding ways to incorporate and reimagine. Ideas like the uniqueness of locations, the methods and motivations behind curiosity seekers, and ways of conveying wonder all are providing key elements to this new path I've been taking.

Which leads me to Post Angeles, the first of my new fiction to see (digital) print in The City Key. You can read it by clicking here: Post Angeles

It's a short piece (flash fiction, technically speaking), with a somewhat longer story behind it's development. Really it was the confluence of several things including:

1) Some time ago a friend of mine moved to Los Angeles and asked me my thoughts on the city. I hadn't been there in a while, but based on what I recalled, I told him that it seemed like a massive illusion sustained entirely by the power of its fascination with itself. More recently I thought back on that and found myself wondering, what if that illusion failed?

2) I've been reading a lot of fiction lately that's been making me rethink the idea of the city. A couple of the more notable visions/versions of which include The City by Ray Bradbury, about a living city that has kept itself alive for 20,000 years awaiting its revenge on those who depopulated it, and In the Hills, the Cities by Clive Barker, which was such a radically different take on "living cities." If Bradbury's story stretched my thinking on the subject, Barker full on broke it - but in a good way.

3) It was a new way to my non-fiction writing and research to work. After all, I've seen firsthand what happens when cities "unbecome" and leave ghost towns, if even that. Once booming areas that suddenly found the railroads and highways passing them by, or lost their major or only industry. And with large cities like Los Angeles declining in population over the last few years, well, maybe the illusion really is failing. (One reader of Post Angeles commented, "are you sure this is fiction?")

Anyhow, that's where my head was and where it is still going. If and when I have other publications on the fiction front, I'll try to give a bit more context and depth here for you.

Thank you, as always, for reading my mind.

Oldest Tampa Bay Bonus Content: Oldest Stilt Houses

Once again, as with Tampa Bay Scavenger, I failed to find a way to squeeze Pasco County into the book. It wasn't for lack of trying though. In the final rounds of edits, I decided that really this chapter would be a better fit for the Secret or Amazing series, as the stilt houses aren't just the oldest but also, as far as I'm aware, the only of their kind in the area. Still very much worth seeing for yourself, in my opinion, while you can.

Oldest Stilt Houses – 1916 to 1918*
Pasco County Stilt Houses

Typically, homes along Florida’s beaches and waterways are highly sought after, some fetching millions of dollars. But there are always those more affordable structures, built not next to water but rather directly over the water. On the edge of Miami-Dade County’s Biscayne Bay is the cluster of wooden houses known as Stiltsville, Cape Romano has its dome homes, and in the greater Tampa Bay area, near where the Pthlachascotee (aka Cotee) River flows into the Gulf of Mexico, are the Pasco County Stilt Homes. They are the area’s oldest and only such buildings.

Despite the curious appearance of these rudimentary structures, they played a practical purpose as camps built by fishermen, where they could catch and store mullet, snook, and other fish while also staying sheltered from storms. The exact date of their construction has been lost to history, but it is believed that they were first erected between 1916 and 1918. Similarly, credit for who first built them is a matter of speculation —different articles suggest either William John Baillie Jr. and his brother or James Washington Clark Jr.

Prior to Hurricane Gladys in 1968 there were as many as two dozen stilt houses. Following the storm, owners set out to survey and repair them, but the state balked at supporting the “squatters rights” claim that generations of fishermen had been using. After a fight, the state upheld its ban on the construction of any new stilt houses, but relented in allowing previous owners to rebuild them, so long as the owners agreed to lease one acre of underwater land. The Florida House of Representatives approved a bill in 1995 again allowing reconstruction of some homes after a storm two years earlier. Further restrictions have since been added, including being at least eligible for a historic designation.

The Stilt houses’ most famous guests were likely Johnny Cash and his friend Reverend Billy Graham, who visited Des Little’s fish camp in March of 1976. Cash is said to have paid for use of the camp with a Toyota truck.

As of 2022, just eight of the stilt houses remain.

* The houses are believed to have been first built between 1916 and 1918, but a more precise date is not available.


Sidebar:
The easiest way to see the stilt houses is by renting a kayak, paddleboard, jet skis, or boats, or taking the sunset cruise from Gill Dawg Tiki Bar and Grill.

Recommended Reading: Selling Dead People's Things

Reading independently published books seems to me a lot like vintage and curio shopping (and I do a good bit of both). If you’re like me, that means spending countless hours closely examining things that don't always strike your fancy, but you continue to do it because you know that somewhere hidden under that cover or lid is some truly astounding treasure awaiting your discovery. Selling Dead People’s Things by Duane Scott Cerny is that rare gem, it’s the original Highway Men painting tucked away in some bin at the back of a St. Petersburg garage sale. Really, it’s that good.

Collectors are a curious lot, all of whom, for reasons each their own, compulsively return time and time again to that place where obsessions and possessions intersect. Quite possibly no one knows this better than Cerny, who has built an extraordinary career on his keen attunement to such ordinary madness – those (often weirdly) specific needs and desires of his mentors, neighbors, classmates, colleagues and customers. Given his unique window into what motivates his buyers and sellers, maybe its not entirely surprising that what emerges from the pages of his book is hard-earned wisdom, a straight-razor-sharp wit, and a cast of characters more memorably peculiar than any ever assembled in a David Lynch film. 

A brief list of those individuals includes the inimitable Hy Roth (an illustrator who rather than telling former bosses what to go do with themselves drew them detailed diagrams) and his Goth goddess wife Marilyn, an elderly collector in the market for muscle magazines and dentures, an octogenarian ventriloquist and his foul-mouthed, disgruntled dummy, and two very large sisters who may or may not have been the descendants of Mussolini’s gardener.

Then there are the objects themselves, every bit as fascinating as the people connected to them. From part of an iconic jet plane under a porch, to a menagerie of stuffed, two-headed animals, a haunted desk, and what might be the only surviving program from the Iroquois Theater the day it burned down.

Really though, this is a book about more than just things and their people. While Cerny never lets us lose sight of the fact that vintage is a business, beneath the clatter of cold, hard cash, he offers us glimpses of something far softer. Tender, actually. Even as he presents us with a seemingly endless variety of reinventions and resurrections, he reminds us that the prerequisite of each of these is a death. Virtually all of the stories in the book begin where some other person, place or thing has ended. In light of this it would be hard not to reach the conclusion that after all the countless transactions have been conducted, all the many lives altered for what they’ve gained or lost, what remains is the single greatest collection of all – the stories they leave behind.

Get a copy here: https://www.amazon.com/Selling-Dead-Peoples-Things-Objectionable/dp/0999894900/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1527087053&sr=1-1&keywords=selling+dead+people%27s+things 

Eight Years / Writing the Wrongs

It feels wrong in so many different ways. Wrong that so much time has passed now, that the world has changed so much in so many ways you wouldn't have believed and didn't get to see. Wrong that I'll be there (virtually) this Friday for the Bar Mitzvah of your youngest son and you won't. Wrong that I go sometimes weeks without saying your name out loud. Wrong that I still haven't been to your gravesite, that maybe I'm just still not ready to see that and be forced to accept the reality of it. One day soon, I think I will.

But time keeps moving, and I've been moving along with it. My fourth book will be out on shelves soon, so if you were here I'd get to say that you were wrong to think that if something was going to happen for us as writers, it already would have. I'm working on a fifth and sixth book now as well, and suddenly writing fiction again. The floodgates are open like never before and I'm just trying to keep up with all the ideas that are spilling out of my head now. I wish more than anything sometimes that I could share those with you, but that, it seems, is exactly what it cost to find myself here - having left off a life of trying to be some person I thought others wanted me to be in order to become who I was supposed to be after all. To have the faith in my vision. Losing you, my friend, was in so very many ways the catalyst for all the creative success I've had since. It feels wrong that I don't get to tell you that in some other form or format.

And now, somehow it's just a couple days shy of eight years since you've been gone. The world makes even less sense without you, if you can believe that, but I'll try to keep it connected to you, and you to it, the only way I know how. Writing the words to right the wrongs. As best I can.

Oldest Tampa Bay Bonus Content: Oldest Drive-In Theater

This is another chapter I intended to include, but Lakeland was just a bit too far to be included in the Tampa Bay area. If, like me, you are fascinated by Americana and captivated by the magic of nostalgia, it is very much worth visiting.

Oldest Drive-In Theater – 1948
Silver-Moon Drive-In and Swap Shop
4100 New Tampa Hwy., Lakeland, FL 33815

In December of 2021 Fun-Lan Drive-In Theater and Swap Shop rolled the closing credits after 71 years as the oldest drive-in movie theater in Hillsborough County. Within the county, that title will pass to the Ruskin Family Drive-In Theater, which opened in 1952 showing “Singing in the Rain.” If, however, you consider Polk County to fall within the Greater Tampa Bay area, than the oldest drive-in theater is Lakeland’s Silver-Moon Drive-In and Swap Shop, which opened two years before Fun-Lan.

When I. Q. Mize and M. G. Waring opened the theater, the 35-cent admission price included a cartoon, short film, and newsreel, during which vendors would circulate selling popcorn, soft drinks, cigarettes, and snacks. 357 RCA speakers gave credence to the theater’s claim as “Florida’s newest most modern outdoor theatre.”

Mise had a close call when a tornado passed through on May 23, 1950. The screen was damaged, but Mize was unscathed under the office’s concrete roof. In July the theater reopened with “East Side, West Side,” a cartoon and an update on the Korean War.

In 1952 Silver Moon was acquired by Carl Floyd, whose Floyd Theaters chain would eventually own and operate more than 50 indoor and drive-in theaters. A neon marquee sign, modern concession stand, and restrooms were added to Silver Moon. In 1960 Hurricane Donna damaged the screen, which was replaced with an 80-foot-wide curved steel screen.

In 1969 Floyd named Harold Spears as his successor. Spears remained president of Floyd Theaters when a year later the company was bought by Burnup & Sims, Inc. Ultimately though the heyday for drive-ins was in the rearview after peaking at roughly 4,000 such theatres nationwide in 1958. In the early 1990s Burnup & Sims merged with Mastec and first sold the indoor theaters to Carmike before turning the knife to the drive-ins.

To save these endangered species of Americana, Spears formed the Sun South Theatres and purchased both Silver Moon and the Dade City Joy-Lan Drive-In, both of which continue to operate today and have enjoyed a recent surge in popularity as an unexpected silver lining to the COVID-19 pandemic.

Sidebar:
During the COVID-19 pandemic there were some experiments with drive-in concerts. Safety Harbor Art and Music Center took a different approach, creating a mobile, outdoor stage.

Giant's Causeway Pillar (Charleston, SC)

(This piece was previously published on Atlas Obscura. You can see it here.) I've been thinking about a trip Jen and I took to Charleston (probably because I just finished reading "The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires," by Grady Hendrix, which is set there). I've also been thinking about Celtic folklore (which I've been delving into as inspiration for some short fiction I've been writing). Turns out that this little stack of stones I once wrote about stands at the intersection of both of those things on my mind. And now it can be on your mind too!

A stack of stones steeped in Irish folklore, much like the hero they're connected to, hide in plain sight.

Roughly 40,000 Basalt columns formed naturally from volcanic activity rise along the coast of County Antrim in Northern Ireland. Minus, that is, the one found outside of Charleston’s historic Hibernian Hall. The pillar section arrived in 1851, roughly a decade after Irish immigrants began arriving in the Palmetto State escaping the Great Famine. It was also exactly 11 years after Thomas Ustick Walter completed the Greek Revival style building where the column now stands.

According to Celtic mythology the Giant’s Causeway, as the name implies, was constructed by giant/hero Fionn mac Cumhaill (aka Finn McCool). In one version of the tale, he builds the bridge to fight the Scottish giant Benandonner. In an alternate version, rather than battle his opponent, Fionn’s wife disguises him as a baby. Upon seeing such a massive child, whom Benandonner assumes is the offspring of his rival, he believes that Fionn must be a giant even by giant standards and promptly returns to Scotland, destroying the causeway in the process.

Given the frequent and massive labor needed to rebuild Charleston following fires, floods, hurricanes, and earthquakes, it seems somehow a fitting place for the fabled remnants of an Irish hero’s ruined bridge.

Oldest Tampa Bay Bonus Content: Oldest Bookstore (Closed)

I wanted oh so very much to include this chapter in the Oldest Tampa Bay... but I just wasn't sure it would reopen. There were rumors that it would, then that it wouldn't, then that it would again, all of which resulted in probably more ink being spent on any inaccessible trove of literature since the legendary Great Library of Alexandria. Ultimately, it seems I made the right choice to omit it from the book as it has officially closed, but I thought it would be nice to remember it here on my blog.

Oldest Bookstore – 1933 
Haslam’s Book Store
2025 Central Ave., St. Petersburg, FL 33713

The Great Depression, which started in 1929 and lasted through 1941, might seem like a counterintuitive time to have started a retail business, but John and Mary Haslam felt otherwise when they opened a small used magazine and book store. In those lean initial years, they applied creativity and entrepreneurship to keep the business going. Customers could rent books from the store for just two pennies per day, and the owners also sold an assortment of handmade gifts.

As the economy recovered, the business expanded and changed location multiple times. Following World War II, the Haslams’ son and daughter-in-law, Charles and Elizabeth, joined the founding couple in managing the business. At the request of customers, they added technical books, religious books and Bibles, and a full selection of trade books. In 1964 the store moved to its current location in the Grand Central District, with 30,000 square feet and an inventory of over 300,000 titles. Charles Haslam began hosting the Sunday afternoon TV show, “The Wonderful World of Books,” which enjoyed a 15-year run on WEDU.

The same year that the bookstore moved to its present address, beat generation author Jack Kerouac moved in with his mother and his third wife just blocks away. He became a regular at Haslam’s, where it became his habit to rearrange shelves and bring his own books to the front of the store to give them greater prominence. Some claim that he continues this practice in the afterlife as one of the many ghosts alleged to haunt the store.

In 1973 the third generation of the Haslam family joined the business when Charles and Elizabeth’s daughter, Suzanne, and her husband, Ray Hinst, came onboard and continue to own the business today.

Sadly, as of this writing, the store has remained “temporarily closed,” in a COVID-induced coma since 2020. Until such time as the owners announce plans to either reopen or close the store, many (this author included) have expressed hopes that Haslam’s current state will one day be viewed as a prolonged interlude in its long and storied history, rather than its epilogue.

Sidebar:
While Haslam’s remains closed, other nearby options for bibliophiles include Tombolo Books, Oxford Exchange, Back in the Day Books, Books at Park Place, Portkey Books, The Gilded Page, Book +Bottle, and the Paperback Exchange in Port Richey.

Airstream Ranch

While I'm working on a few updates for the second printing of Secret Tampa Bay, I thought I'd shift gears slightly with a poem remembering one of the many roadside attractions that has vanished during the course of my time here in Tampa. Blink and you'll miss it - that's what someone said to me about Florida when I moved here. How very right they were.

Airstream Ranch

There it was planted
Between billboards
Like a question mark
At the end of wordless puzzled glances
From those zipping past on I-4.
Less than a footnote now,
A background blur in an overexposed polaroid photo
That belongs to the age of
Garish pink painted pachyderms and
Mediterranean revival style
Shopping mall food courts.
Our roadside temples of the mysteries
Raised on the bones of conquistadors
Fading faster here in the sun,
A heap of broken images
Uploaded to the cloud
And then carted away for scrap;
These memories of minor monuments
That have at last outlived
Even their own uselessness.

Oldest Tampa Bay Acknowledgements

This has been a long while in coming, in no small part due to the slightly overwhelming number of individuals and organizations that provided me with critical insight, documents, photos and support throughout the process of writing Oldest Tampa Bay. With each book I write, it seems the list of those deserving mention grows, while the space in which I have to thank them does not. So I thought to use this blog to try and name as many of those as I can – almost inevitably there will be some person or persons who very much deserve a thank you and find themselves missing from this list. For any such omission(s), I apologize in advance.

To begin with, The Hillsborough, Pinellas, Manatee and Sarasota library systems, TampaPix, and Florida Memory (the State Library and Archives of Florida) were all absolutely essential for research and photos. Just as indispensable was the input I received from the Tampa Bay History Center, Nevin Sitler and Rui Farias at the St. Petersburg Museum of History, everyone at the Clearwater Historical Society, the Dunedin History Museum, Susan Carter and Melissa Sullebarger at the Henry B. Plant Museum, Monica Drake, Sandy Bozeman and everyone at Heritage Village and the Pinellas County Historical Society, Robert Austin and everyone at the Weedon Island Preserve Cultural and Natural History Center, Krystal Miner and Rachel DesRosier at Manatee Village Historical Park, and Catherine Wilkins and Bob Grunow at the Gulf Beaches Historical Museum.

A great many local businesses, organizations, families and individuals also generously shared their time, stories and photos with me. This includes Doris DuBose, Pastor Alan Harris and the committee at Beulah Baptist Church, Rob Feierstadt of Blue Devil Tatoo, “Jungle John” Paner, Vasile Faklis, Dan Hayman, Carl L Zielonka, DDS, Jason Alessi and everyone at Alessi Bakery, Jenny Noell at Treasure Island Fun Center, Doug Morgan, Bob at Bahi Hut, Aaron Virgin, CEO of Save Our Seabirds, Inc., Jim Brady and family, Joseph Vars at the Belleview Inn, Gil Bakshi, Kelly Fairchild at The Circus Arts Conservatory, Cathy Salustri, Brandy Stark, PhD,Bob Feckner and Allan Hurd at the Blueberry Patch, Mike Kush at Lake Como Co-op, Inc., Phillip Cacciatore, J.C. Newman Historian and Museum Curator Holden Rasmussen, Jennifer Tyson at Sunken Gardens, Don Taylor, Cherie Jacobs at Tampa Electric, Nina Acevedo, Ward J. Friszolowski at Harvard Jolly Architecture, Brian Schaefer, Paul Zitzer and everyone at Skatepark of Tampa, Scott Fairbairn at Tampa Yacht & Country Club, Florida State Historical Marker Program Director Michael Hart, and Nainan Desai at the Hindu Temple of Florida. James Crouch at Hillsbrough County Parks and Recreation deserves an extra special mention for helping me identify the oldest dog parks in the county (no doubt one of the stranger questions he’s been asked). Similarly, Richard Fifer shared with me rare first-hand experience and photos from the early days of the phosphate mining industry.

I cannot adequately express my thanks to all of the fellow authors, writers and historians who came to my aid in many ways on multiple occasions. Craig Pittman reminded me that Centro Asturiano de Tampa has a theater, Josh McMorrow-Hernandez very kindly reviewed an early draft and made several suggestions which considerably improved the work. Local food guru Andrew Huse answered several of my questions, as did Kristen Hare (and even though I haven’t definitively figured out the area’s oldest Chinese restaurant, I had many very good meals in the course of my search).

Reedy Press could not have been more supportive through the process, even when it looked like my efforts might go off the rails. Josh and Barbara very patiently talked me off the literary ledge, Jill and Jennifer worked through more edits with me than any of us probably expected, and Alex, Kaitlyn and Mischelle have done an extraordinary job of getting the book in stores and in the news. A better relationship with a publisher I could not hope to find.

Then there are all the friends and family (both work and blood relations), who have been there for me time and time again. Gary Silber, Jacob Gehl, Bobby Conway, Jason Ewing, Larry Hayward, Barry Mac, Andy Tschudy, Tom and Candy, Debbie and Howard, Andy and Bob, David and Myrna, Ali, Jeremy Seth and Adam, Jon, Jeff, Jenna, Barbara and Jon, My Tiger Dust friends, my Grant Thornton family, my Your Signature Resume colleagues, Mike, Krista, Rochelle and everyone at the Jolley Trolley and anyone else left unnamed here – you known who you are and what you mean to me.

Saved for last is unquestionably the one most deserving of thanks – my wife, Jennifer Weiner, without whom I would be at best eloquent but dysfunctional. Your love and support is without measure or comparison, and I appreciate it always. Tinker Bell the Shih Tzu, our fearless protector, has also earned a mention here for helping me stay mostly sane these last few books and years.

Recommended Reading

There's nothing quite like a major hurricane to put a crimp in one's exploration of weird and unusual places. Such is the case for me at the moment - with Hurricane Ian barreling towards the Tampa Bay area, my wife and I decided to heed the evacuation order. With our fierce and fluffy companion, Tinker Bell the Shih Tzu, we made our way up to Jacksonville, where we are currently hunkered down for the next few days. And even though I may not get a chance to check out Chamblin Bookmine, Sally Dark Rides or the pink dinosaur known as "Sexy Rexy," one thing I can do is catch up on some reading. Another thing I can do is write a blog post. In fact, I could write a blog post about some of the reading I've caught up on lately. And so I have. Here are just a few of the books I've been impressed with lately. I hope that you'll check them out and, if you feel so inspired, maybe leave your own review of a book that you enjoyed.

Book: Abandoned Florida: Sunshine Sentinels
By: Thomas Kenning
Originally Reviewed On: Amazon

The massive military fortifications of centuries past were no doubt intimidating and awe inspiring displays of might in their prime, but as Kenning reveals in words and images, they can become something far more wondrous as they quietly crack and crumble. Eerily beautiful in decay - such is the state of these seemingly impregnable behemoths designed to halt the marching of armies, but not the march of time. Kenning has done a really spectacular job of capturing and conveying that magic as nature conquers and reclaims these man-made marvels of engineering. Whether a seasoned or first-time seeker and explorer of modern ruins, this book will have you packing your gear, planning your route and pining to experience the desolate splendor of these places for yourself, long before you've turned the last page.

Book: Curveball at the Crossroads
By: Michael Lortz
Originally Reviewed On: goodreads

I went in without expectations and found a new twist on the old "deal with the devil at the crossroads" that was much more fun than I expected. As someone interested in vintage Americana, including baseball, blues music and especially America's unique modern mythology, Lortz's book appealed to be on multiple levels. But none of it would have landed for me without such clear, clever and entertaining storytelling - the style reminded me a bit of Christopher Moore. A fast read that relies on good solid storytelling; a modern fable that swings for the fences and delivers. Go read it already.

Book: Eerie Appalachia: Smiling Man Indrid Cold, The Jersey Devil, the Legend of Mothman and More
By: Mark Muncy & Kari Schultz
Originally Reviewed On: goodreads

I just finished reading Eerie Appalachia and the first (literary) foray outside of the sunshine state for author/illustrator duo Mark Muncy and Kari Schultz is a fast and fascinating deep dive that picks up where their previous works left off at the Florida state border. Their latest work expands the scope of strange encounters to include not only well-known cryptids like the Moth Man, the Jersey Devil and the Sasquatch, but also hauntings, hyper-local holler legends, UFOs and one of Muncy's own personal experiences on his family's land in Kentucky. As with their previous books, Schultz's illustrations were phenomenal and Muncy was able to construct concise and well written tales from reams of research and often conflicting first-hand accounts. Whether you're new to the world of cryptids and creepy creatures, a paranormal enthusiast or a seasoned legend-tripper with your gear already stowed and ready to go, this book will give you all the reasons you need to start planning your own excursion deep into Eerie Appalachia.

Sir Winston Churchill's Lion 'Rota'

This one is a bit older - one of the first of my published submissions to Atlas Obscura, but it seemed like a logical follow-up post to my recent one on Big Cat Rescue. Have we seen the tail end of such posts and puns? Maybe to the first part of that question and decidedly not to the second... after all, a leopard, as the saying goes, never changes its spots... 

Lions and Tigers and Servals, Oh My A lion given to the prime minister somehow got stuffed and sent to Florida.

What do you get for the victorious allied commander and British prime minister who has everything? A lion, apparently.

Rota, an African lion, was originally won in a bet by a London businessman. Once he outgrew his backyard cage, he was presented to Sir Winston Churchill to commemorate his victories in North Africa during World War II. Tame enough to let curious visitors reach in and touch him, Rota resided for a time in a cage outside of Churchill’s property, before finally being relocated to the London Zoo.

That wasn’t Rota’s last stop, however. It’s not exactly clear how the stuffed lion made his way to Florida, but travel over the ocean he did. He was first exhibited at the Lion Hotel in Saint Augustine, but too many visitors pulling at his fur led the owners to donate him to the avid collector, Otto C. Lightner.

Housed in what was originally the Alcazar Hotel built by Henry Morrison Flagler in 1888, the Lightner Museum showcases its original patron’s vast collection of pretty much anything and everything. It includes the second largest assemblage of American-made crystal in the world, a pipe organ-themed desk (which may have been used by Napoleon’s brother), Tiffany stained glass, Victorian-era scientific equipment, an Egyptian mummy, early automated music machines, and Rota, the lion who once belonged to Churchill.

Today Rota stands behind glass with his monstrous maw preserved in a permanent roar—or yawn, perhaps.

Tampa Bay Scavenger Storyline

At various times in my life, I've been a video gamer. One particular MMORG, Everquest, held my fascination for years. I recalled how every once in a while, a player or team of players, or guild, would unlock some new content, or there would be some special event, triggering a game-wide message. I decided to apply this to Tampa Bay Scavenger - whenever a player unlocked one of the four puzzle pieces and solved the final riddle, I posted a game update to the Facebook group (https://www.facebook.com/groups/2812736358967184). Below are those updates, which essentially create a separate, interactive storyline.

Following the unlocking of the first puzzle piece by a player, this update was issued on October 14, 2021.

----------GAME UPDATE----------
All players and adventurers suddenly pause simultaneously, sensing a shift in the air around them. One by one they realize that it's the stillness, the silence, that has grabbed their attention. Everything has gone eerily quiet except for just one sound, which echoes out from the heart of the labyrinth. It is the unmistakable sound of metal against metal. It is the sound of a key opening a lock, setting something new in motion as hidden gears rumble to life and begin to turn...

...Somewhere, someone has unlocked the first puzzle piece...


Following the unlocking of the second puzzle piece by a player, this update was issued on November 18, 2021.

---------GAME UPDATE----------
The blind seer sits at the small, circular wooden table in the center of her cabin – close enough to the docks that she can sometimes hear snippets of conversation and quarrels, but far enough removed that no one stumbles upon her abode without seeking it. Moonlight pours in through the sheer curtains by the window and pools on the uneven tiles of the floor. She knows that the moon is full not by anything her eyes tell her but rather by the cycles within and around her, as she prepares for her nightly ritual.
From the creased and worn deck she draws three cards, running her weathered fingers over each one as she turns it over.

The first is the Ace of Wands, indicating that a fateful step has been taken, setting in motion a chain of events that will lead one to their desired outcome.

The second card she reads by touch is the Seven of Pentacles. The road ahead will be long and arduous, requiring patience and dedication.

The final card takes her just a moment to recognize as the Wheel of Fortune. It’s been some time since it last turned up in one of her nightly readings. She knows that it heralds change, but for good or ill she cannot say.

“Tell me witch, what does this bode?” The voice belongs to a figure who has until now been concealed in the shadows behind her. She cannot see him and does not know if he is a corporeal being, a shade or just some figment conjured from her own fragmented memory. She long ago ceased making any such distinction, as she has discourse with all of them equally. In this instance, however, her reply is simply a broad grin, for she understands precisely what the cards have revealed…

…Somewhere, someone has unlocked the second puzzle piece…


Following the unlocking of the third puzzle piece by a player, this update was issued on December 27, 2021.

---------GAME UPDATE----------
The water is calm and quiet, as the two men stand fishing side by side from the deck of their small vessel. They've been doing all they can of late to increase their catch as the nets have been nearly empty every night these last many. There's been talk and rumors that the waters have been cursed, that those adventurers who have of late descended upon the bay area seeking clues and treasure have unwittingly unleased something darker upon it.

The two fishermen are not immune to such superstition - each of them have been making extra offerings to their chosen deity in hopes of restoring harmony and good fortune. As they go quietly about their business, a thick fog rolls in and engulfs their boat. They turn towards each other in confusion as they realize that the fog is moving against the wind, towards the shore.

Before they can say anything, they notice a shape rising from the depths off the starboard side. They rub their eyes in astonishment, for what they see is clearly impossible. A rotted and decaying ship, rising from the depths without creating a sound or disturbing the surface of the water. Seaweed hangs and billows form the masts in lieu of sails, and as it passes alongside their craft, they feel chilled to the bone.

The crew is composed of skeletal pirates, reanimated and called up from their slumber at the bottom of the sea no doubt by that which is happening on land. At the helm, Gaspar the Undying points his rusted saber towards the port and urges his crew to make haste, lest they be beaten to their prize. The pirate captain's empty eye sockets glow red as if illuminated by embers and he lets loose a cackle that is the sound of nightmares as he speeds past the fisherman.

The fishermen wait for the ghost ship to pass, put away their gear and decide to call it a night. Neither one has any desire to speak of what they just witnessed or to be out on the water at night again anytime soon. The older of the two sighs, realizing that there will be no peace or normalcy until the hunt has run its course, and that for those competing to complete it, the dangers will only increase the closer they get to their goal. A goal, he muses, rubbing his grey beard between his fingers, that at least one seeker has just drawn closer to...

...Somewhere, someone has unlocked the third puzzle piece...

Following the unlocking of the fourth and final puzzle piece by a player, this update was issued on April 11, 2022.

---------GAME UPDATE----------
The wind that began as a mild breeze picks up and becomes a howl, bending and uprooting trees. Like a droplet of black ink, a roiling storm cloud spreads across the sky. It blots out the sun, turning afternoon into the pitch black of midnight, split by bolts of lightning so bright that they leave an afterimage in the eyes of those watching. The waters along the bay become turbulent, pounding the shores and docks, surging against stone walls. Waterspouts dance over the sea in the darkness. All man-made structures, even the ground itself, seems to tremble from the force of the tempest.

And then nothing. As quickly as it formed, the storm dissipates and when the late day sun breaks free from the clouds that confined it, it shines all the more brightly on one adventurer. Everyone throughout the land reaches the same conclusion...

...Somewhere, someone has unlocked the fourth and final puzzle piece...


Following the deciphering of the final secret message (once the four puzzle pieces were assembled) by a player, this update was issued on July 20, 2022.

---------GAME UPDATE----------
All enemies defeated, all clues solved, ZooTech stands before the ancient doorway that leads to the Keeper of Secrets, and of course, whatever treasure he has been guarding. She takes a deep breath and enters, winding through a maze of passageways, sometimes having to retrace her steps. At last she sees the flicker of torchlight up ahead. The passageway opens up into a circular chamber. At the far side sits a figure wearing a hooded cloak. Between them, in the center of the room are a series of letters and in the very center of the room, a massive wooden chest, bound shut with metal chains and a lock.

“Welcome,” the figure says. He rises slowly, as if he’s been seated there waiting to be found since the very dawn of time. “You have proven yourself courageous and curios in solving my riddles. Now there is but one final challenge.” He gestures to the letters throughout the room.

ZooTech notices that they seem to shimmer as she approaches. She studies each carefully, and then it comes to her – the final phrase. She whispers it to the figure and though she cannot discern his face, she has the distinct impression that he is smiling. He takes a key that hangs around his neck and places it in her hands. “Thank you for freeing me,” he says and then begins to dematerialize before her eyes, until all that is left is a dark swirling vortex of dust and the key in her hands.

Cautiously she approaches the chest and detecting no traps, places the keys into the lock. It springs open and the chains loosen and fall away. She lifts the lid and inside she finds… nothing! Wait, that can’t be right, can it? She looks again and feels around in the dark wood. This time she feels something in the corner and pulls away a false bottom, which reveals a ladder descending into the darkness below.
Determined not to have come this far without claiming the treasure, she climbs down into the unknown. At the bottom she finds herself in another circular room, but this one is lined with portals – dozens of doorways glowing blue, through each of which she can see a different path. Though this particular quest has ended for her, the adventure continues without end…

…And isn’t that really the best treasure of all?

Congratulation to ZooTech on being the first to solve all the riddles and the final phrase.

Now, who will be next?

Secret Tampa Bay Bonus Content: Lions and Tigers and Servals, Oh My!

 

Originally I planned to include this chapter about Big Cat Rescue. Jen and I had gone on a tour there previously - it's located in Citrus Park just about ten minutes from where we live. Unfortunately, in response to both the COVID-19 global pandemic and, as I was told by staff there, to a certain Netflix show, the organization decided to close its doors for tours out of concern for both animals and humans. Consequently this was one of the chapters I opted to trim from Secret Tampa Bay, as I felt it made more sense to focus more on things and places that people can see for themselves. Perhaps one day it will reopen to the public. Until then, you can visit the cats virtually and via my description here.

Lions and Tigers and Servals, Oh My!

Where can you find Tampa’s most unique and exclusive retirement community?

Founded in November of 1992 just miles from Downtown Tampa, Big Cat Rescue is one of the world’s largest accredited sanctuaries for exotic cats—including lions, tigers, leopards, lynx, servals, bobcats, cougars, ocelots, and caracals—who live out the rest of their nine lives peacefully on 67 sunny acres in the Citrus Park neighborhood.

A nonprofit 501(c)3 charity, Big Cat Rescue is accredited by the Global Federation of Animal Sanctuaries and includes full-time homes for big cats as well as rehab and medical facilities, a rotational “vacation” area, and a “kitten cabana” for socializing and supporting smaller cats.

Residents at Big Cat Rescue come from a wide variety of backgrounds and circumstances, some abandoned or abused by owners, others retired from performing acts or rescued from being made into fur coats. Still others, whose names have been changed, are there as part of what might be called “the feline witness protection program,” having been seized during raids or drug busts and now awaiting trial … as evidence.

Some of Big Cat Rescue’s more famous inhabitants include Zabu the white tiger, Kali the tiger, Cameron the lion, and of course Pharaoh and Tonga—the only two white servals known in existence anywhere on earth.

In addition to providing a home and care for its animals, Big Cat Rescue is involved in championing legislation to end the ownership and trade of exotic felines in the private sector. The bill, known as the Big Cat Public Safety Act (H.R. 3546) is currently in the US House of Representatives.

Other local animal encounters include the Suncoast Primate Sanctuary in Palm Harbor, Golden Spirit Alpaca Ranch in Odessa, Gypsy Gold Farm for horses in Ocala, and ZooTampa at Lowry Park.

Paws and Appreciate What: Big Cat Rescue Where: 12802 Easy St., Tampa Cost: In person tours are not currently being offered.   Pro Tip: There are numerous ways to get involved and support Big Cat Rescue’s mission, from donations to email campaigns to volunteer and internship positions. Visit its website for more information.

Valhalla Can Wait

“Hey…. Pssst… Hey, are you awake?...”

It’s the voice of my friend Steve, cutting through the pre-dawn darkness. As kids, during any sleepover, I was usually the one, lying on the red fold-out seat, who could talk until the first shades of deep purple spread like a bruise across the sky, whereas Steve would be asleep and snoring like clockwork within a half hour lying down. Death, it seems, has reversed our roles and it is now my friend who possesses the sort of boundless late-night energy that he did not have in life.

“Hey… are you there?... Wake up.”

I mumble something along the lines of, “do you know what time it is?” but consciousness is seeping in, under my eyelids. Somewhere in the back of my brain an engine sputters a few times and finally kicks on to those two words.

Wake up.

Mmmuumph, hmm, what? I must have dozed off, my index finger still between the pages of a book I was reading. At some point during the night my wife must have turned off the lights and a small warm, furry creature, Tinker Bell, has relocated from being in the crook of my armpit to laying on her back with my left ankle as her pillow.

Some thirty years on from my childhood, it’s a lot harder to keep my eyes open. Sleep is no longer the enemy it was back then. It’s taken the form of a Valkyrie, ready to lift me gently from my body and carry me off to some version of paradise. The temptation to drift back off is so strong, all the more reason I have to ball my hands into fists, dig my fingernails into my palms and summon all my resolve. I swing my legs over the side of the bed, rise and stumble down the hall to my office, managing to bang my shins only a couple times before sitting back down in front of the computer, to stare at a blank page.

I consider anew just how easy it is to go back to sleep. Even as I start typing and working on an upcoming presentation, a big one, I know in some ways though I’m already sleep-walking again. That story of how grief became a catalyst and how I came to reawaken to the wonder of the world around me, after nearly three years has been refined and told so often that I could recite it in my sleep. Which means that I am probably doing just that - the story of waking up has itself become a sort of lullaby mantra, luring me back into a different version of the same trance I fought so hard to break free from.

I’ve made a start though. A good start. I’ve put three books on the shelf and I’m into a fourth. Wrote a ghost tour and working on others. But it’s neither the time nor the place to plant a flag, it’s just the first basecamp and the summit is a long way off in the distance. A start, even the very best of starts, is still just a start. Time now to stop starting and start in on the second act. The climb gets steeper from here, the oxygen gets thinner and there are fewer footsteps to follow.

The Valkyrie isn’t going anywhere. Over my shoulder, I can sense her disapproval of my efforts – she thinks I should just call it a night and be satisfied with what I’ve accomplished. And with what's left unfinished. She doesn't say any this, of course, she doesn't have to - she’s the strong, silent type. Though she is in virtually every way the inverse of my friend Steve, she is no less a member of my party; with me now for the duration of the journey.

Time to delve deeper, to push myself harder, to stay awake and stay focused. There are strange lands yet to traverse and wonders waiting to be revealed before I’m ready to cash in whatever cred I’ve earned as a seeker.

Valhalla, at least for now, is just going to have to wait.

Burger Museum

(The piece below was previously published on Atlas Obscura. You can see it here.)

Memorial Day presents itself to me as a holiday with a bit of a multiple personality disorder: on one hand it's a time to remember the dead - those who lost their lives in active military service. Yet it's also the unofficial start of summer - beaches, pool parties, beer and yes, hamburgers. This last item has me reflecting not only on service members who have passed on, but also on wonders that exist now only in memory. Hence my post of this previously published piece on the Burger Museum.

Though the museum is no more, it served as one distinct stage of the evolution of "Burger Beast" who I've come to know and appreciate for his extraordinary and highly specialized expertise. He continues to blog, he has a book that you should check out, he's opened a restaurant and he keeps serving up the freshest burger-related wisdom anywhere on planet earth. Who knows - maybe one day the museum will return. In the meantime, you can always revisit it here.

This shrine to bovine consumption and all things fast food is a slice of culinary history both rare and well done.

In a 1984 Wendy's commercial, actress Clara Peller carved out a permanent place in pop culture by asking, “Where’s the beef?” Some three decades later, we have a definitive answer in the Burger Museum at Miami’s Magic City Casino.

The museum, created by Sef “Burger Beast” Gonzalez, began as a blog documenting and celebrating his lifelong passion for burgers. When a friend familiar with Gonzalez’s particular obsession sent him an old Burger Chef restaurant sign, it sent him on a path toward amassing an extraordinary collection of all things burger-related. When his collection outgrew his old, unused bedroom at his parents’ house, he pitched the city’s Magic City Casino on the idea of leasing him space to showcase his fast-food fascination. The casino agreed, and in December of 2016, the Burger Museum was born.

Today the collection includes over 3,000 artifacts and collectibles, not only from the larger chains such as Burger King, Wendy’s, and McDonald’s, but from lesser-known restaurants (including a sign from the failed Burger Queen chain—no affiliation with the King) and “mom and pop” shops as well. From vintage uniforms and menus to dishware, toys, and statues of mascots (the Hamburglar, of course, makes an appearance), the vast collection tells the story of America’s enduring love for the ground beef patty on a bun.

Update: The Burger Museum closed its doors on September 29, 2019.

Finding, Losing and Restoring Balance (My COVID-19 Experience)

It's a lesson you might think I'd be better at by now. Looking around at my peers for comparison (something I generally try to avoid doing), it seems like many, maybe most of them  have worked out some approximation of a balanced between work, family and leisure - although it's hard to tell how much of that is real and how much is illusion. It's also easy to forget that many of them have a very different life than I do - in middle age now, most of them probably have a somewhat clear picture of how things will unfold in their ideal scenario. I, however, just upended everything again over the last few years - out the window once again went all plans and predictions. And balance. Of course, I was never great at maintaining that in the first place - no doubt part of why I gravitated to a creative project-based lifestyle - as it allowed me to hyper focus, work like mad, and then move on to the next project.. For a good ten years or so I found, if not what most would call balance, than at least some lifestyle that was workable for me and one that gave me the time and space to discover, cultivate and indulge a passion for seeking out curiosities and wonders.

Now though, in a manner truly reflective of my current home, I've introduced some new species into the delicate ecosystem of my daily life. It started with the first book, "Secret Tampa Bay," which created a new pattern, alternating between creating and then marketing and promoting, my work. With one book that was pretty simple. "Tampa Bay Scavenger" made it a bit more complicated - now producing a new book started to overlap with promoting the first. As I near completion of "Oldest Tampa Bay," I can see how this will become increasingly complex. Three books, still manageable I think. But I'm also starting work on a fourth, and in early talks about a fifth... and bit by bit, word by word, page by page, I can just start to make out the shape of a new life as an author. 

The introduction of the first tour for the Clearwater Jolley Trolley opens up yet another new doorway, one that I am eager as ever to explore. Again though, this alters my trajectory and with each new opportunity, I need to go back and measure it against what's already on my plate. That's not a complaint, in fact, it really just serves to highlight the benefit of having a portfolio of endeavors rather than just one job with a clear, linear path and progression. I get to pick and choose, I just have to be smart and careful about what I commit to.

The factor that most blindsided me though, the one I didn't see coming, was COVID-19. Jen and I both got it back in March of this year, despite having been vaccinated and boosted. It wasn't too bad for us, no worse than a mean flu. Most of our symptoms resolved after a few days - some hung on for weeks (in the form of a secondary sinus infection), and one has continued to linger for months now. Exhaustion, fatigue, whatever you want to call it. I've been feeling like an old cell phone that suddenly has a smaller battery capacity, can't seem to fully charge anymore and loses that charge much faster than it used to. For the first time in my adult life, naps have become not just a regular feature but a necessity. 

I was starting to wonder if maybe there would be no bounce-back. Maybe old age just showed up early and I'd have to get used to it. Just when I was starting to give up hope, something amazing happened the other morning. I woke up feeling rested. For the first time in months, I actually felt my energy at a pre-COVID level. So there's hope that things will improve, but in the mean time, I've had to learn some new tricks: 

1. Prioritizing projects and deadlines - I've been doing this for years, but now I've had to become much more accurate and realistic with my projections. In the past, if I needed to put in an extra hour, or three, or ten, with enough pitch black coffee I could get it done. That's no longer been the case and some things (this blog being one of them), have had to take a back seat.
2. Managing my energy - As previously mentioned, this wasn't really an issue before. I've had to  think now not in 8, 10 or 12 hour days but rather in 2, 3 and 4 hour mini-shifts factoring in rest breaks. 
3. Sometimes just saying no - This is maybe what I've historically been worst at. I juggle something like five or six very different streams of revenue and my nature, my inclination, is to keep on adding to them. But I've had to turn away projects more frequently - grit my teeth and bite back the frustration at not being able to bill every moment of my day. 

Making these changes has been tough, but I think I am ultimately better for it. As my energy level returns, little by little, I plan to hold on to what I've learned. It will make me more efficient, it will allow me to focus on fewer things, thereby increasing their quality, and it will also allow me to increase the quality of my own life. 

Certainly the experience could have been worse - I am, after all, still very much alive. I did not need to be admitted to a hospital or put on a ventilator. Every moment of every day, I count myself lucky in this regard. But it hasn't exactly been a walk in the park either. Its lingering effects have reshaped my world - and I'm still trying to get my head around that. I feel like if I can learn something of value from this, it will feel like picking the pocket of the armed robber that burst into the bank and made off with my wellbeing. 

It's my way to take back just a tiny bit of what was stolen. 

I hope, if you need to, that you can do the same.

Who is What

It's been a while since I shared some poetry here, but lately I've been generating quite a lot of it. Here's just a little taste for you - I hope you enjoy it.

Who Is What

“Dining,”
I said into the phone.
No response.
“Dining,”
I repeated and waited.

“You know this is a real person, right?”

I started to apologize
But the voice cut me off,
“Just kidding,
you said ‘Dining’ -
let’s get you to the right place.”

Wait, what?

Did a machine just pretend
to be a human?
Did a person just impersonate
a recording?

My confusion lasted
exactly as long as it took
to connect with the
restaurant reservation system;
just as millions of dollars
in research and consumer analytics
no doubt predicted it would.

Riddle Me This: How "Tampa Bay Scavenger" Came To Be

Like solving riddles? Assembling puzzles? Decrypting coded messages? Well here's a conundrum for you - when is an activity book not an activity book? That's what I'm hoping "Tampa Bay Scavenger" will solve when it comes out in just a few short weeks. There's more than one right answer to that question I've posed, and I'll give you some of them below as a means of both recounting the book's genesis and providing a deeper, more personal perspective.

Answer: When it's a marketing idea that takes on a life of its own.

I feel for anyone who tried to release a book during the first several months of the COVID-19 global pandemic. Putting out a local travel book was especially challenging as most venues either cancelled their events or moved them to zoom and other online platforms. Thankfully, Secret Tampa Bay still met with more success than I expected, and I dug deep into my entrepreneurial bag of tricks to come up with clever and safe outdoor events. I had the idea of turning a couple dozen of the places and items from Secret Tampa Bay into a scavenger hunt, so I set about composing a series of rhyming riddles, leading people to parks, monuments and other spots throughout the area. Due to a spike in COVID cases, I was never able to get it off the ground, but I had shared the riddles with my publisher and they responded with a great deal more enthusiasm than I had expected.

"These are really good... do you think you could produce more of them?"

"Sure," I said, "I could crank out another couple dozen pretty easily..."

"How about another three hundred and forty of them? An entire book's worth?"

"Um," I really wasn't sure that either I or the Tampa Bay area could produce that many. "How long would I have?"

"Six months?"

Ok, I thought. That's simply impossible. Even if everything aligned perfectly, which it seldom ever does, it would push me well past the far reaches of anything similar I'd ever attempted before. I couldn't suppress the grin that spread across my face - how could I resist it? "I'm in."

Of course, at that time I hadn't anticipated how quickly things change, and that I would go from covering seven counties down to just four, having to adapt and reshuffle riddles as I helped pioneer a what has become a new line of books for Reedy. Even as I raced to complete the riddles, the things and places I had written about just weeks or days earlier were demolished, removed or closed their doors for good. 

In the end, it would take 12 drafts, roughly 500 riddles and something like 1,500 photos, but I did it, and whatever any critic may say about it, I am very proud of the final result, which I'm fairly certain is the largest and most elaborate scavenger hunt ever created within the Tampa Bay area.

Answer: When it's the next chapter in a larger story and another pathway back into your own childhood.

It seems to be the case in my life of late that the path forward sometimes begins behind me. With my first book, it was my desire to recapture some childhood magic and wonder following the death of my friend that set things in motion. This latest work similarly has its roots back in my past, deeper even than those memories which spawned my last book. I had to think back to a time when I would draw elaborate mazes on graph paper or take turns trying to stump friends with riddles - some from books like The Hobbit by Tolkien, and some that we created ourselves. I had to revisit that time in my early days when I would spend hours working on puzzles that provided glimpses into fantasy landscape and other worlds. I incorporated elements from roleplaying games, video games, treasure hunt movies (like "Goonies" and "Raiders of the Lost Ark") and books like "Ready Player One" and "The Thrill of the Hunt." Thus, at the age of 45, I have at last fulfilled the dream I had as a fourteen year old of being a real life dungeon master.

Answer: When it's an opportunity to explore your surroundings in a new way.

Each of the books I've produced for Reedy Press has allowed me to see and understand the place I live from a new perspective, like looking through a multifaceted gemstone, each time seeing things reflected in a new way. Secret Tampa Bay honed my ability to pick out what is odd, concealed and unusual. This time around, Tampa Bay Scavenger has enabled me to think about a place as something playable - the Tampa Bay Area as a gameboard or setting for an adventure. In short order I'll be putting on my time traveling gear to write Oldest Tampa Bay.

Answer: When it's a bridge between where you've been and where you're going.

Tampa Bay Scavenger forms both the connective tissue between Secret Tampa Bay and Oldest Tampa Bay, but also serves as its own standalone work. It can be used as an activity and scavenger hunt book, as a guidebook to the area, or even just as a 357 verse love poem to the place I live.

It also forms a bridge between my own past and future - between the person I've been and the one I aspire to continue becoming. In seeking to open up a new way to experience the area for readers, I have also opened up a whole new realm of possibilities for myself - as a writer, as a curiosity seeker and as a human being. It also marks the fist time I've connected with a cause - I'm donating a dollar from every book I sell directly (at events and through the website www.secrettampabay.com). 

Creating Tampa Bay Scavenger has pushed and broadened my skills, challenged me in new ways, and unexpectedly shown me a new way forward by reaching further back into my past. I hope that it will prove every bit as challenging and compelling for everyone who chooses to explore its contents.

The Obscuratorium

About the Obscuratorium

The Obscuratorium is essentially a window Wunderkammer; a mini-museum display that The Paperback Exchange Bookstore has been kind enough to allow me to curate and display at their store. It also represents a new step in my own journey from seeker of curiosities to writer of the weird and wondrous, to creator of a small oddity of my very own. It is the confluence of a few different streams, or themes, for me, which include: recapturing and sharing wonder, the seemingly bottomless rabbit hole of strangeness that is the place I live (Tampa, Florida), and something I participate in every year called GISH (aka the Greatest International Scavenger Hunt).

The idea of capturing and sharing wonder has become one of the central themes in my own story - following the death of my close friend Steve (which I've written about elsewhere in this blog), I set about trying to reconnect with that unique sense of exploring the unknown that we shared as kids. Along the way I discovered a number of resources to aid me in my quest, especially Atlas Obscura, which I began not only using (perhaps somewhat obsessively), but also contributing to. This, in turn, put me on the path to writing #SecretTampaBay (Reedy Press, 2020) and more recently #TampaBayScavenger (Reedy Press, 2021). As I researched and visited the various places to include in my writing, I began to accumulate a fairly sizeable collection of strange trinkets and curios, which were piling up in my home office. Some of these objects, specifically Olga the haunted doll, were objects that my wife would rather we not have in the house, so I began thinking about a better place for them. I was familiar with various window galleries, like Portland's Windows of Wonders and the Windows for Peace in Vienna, so I approached Joaner Hempsworth about utilizing the windows of The Paperback Exchange for such a purpose. Joaner was enthusiastic about the idea and I suggested the name "The Obscuratorium" as an homage to the site that helped kickstart my passion for exploration. Many of the objects displayed are, not coincidentally, from other sites in both Florida and found on Atlas Obscura.

The idea might have stalled if not for GISH, which is the unique creation of actor/author Misha Collins (of Supernatural fame for his role as the angel Castiel). Each year he creates a list of items that teams must create or accomplish and document over the course of a week, with emphasis on strangeness, absurdity and compassion. During the August 2021 hunt, one of the items was as follows:

Item #118: A lot of countries are in lockdown due to COVID, leaving people thirsting for roadside attractions. Fill the void: Invent an amazing roadside attraction and create it in your neighborhood. Bonus points if you get it listed on Atlas Obscura. If you can’t leave your house due to COVID or other issues, you can create this in your home, but don’t list your location on Atlas Obscura. - inspired by Monica D.

This was precisely the extra push I needed to make The Obscuratorium a reality. while initially it started on the shelf of one of the bookcases, it has made its way now to the front window where hopefully it will help make wonder more accessible and perhaps inspire others to seek it out as I have.

Contents (Left to Right, on Top of the Cabinets)

1. Tiki Salt Shaker
2. Tinker Bell
3. Can of Florida Sunshine
4. Weeki Wachee Mermaids
5. Coral Castle Postcard
6. Edward Scissorhands 
7. Faygo Rock & Rye Bottle
8. Hong Kong Willie Postcard

Contents (Left to Right, Inside the Cabinets)

1. Whimzeyland Postcard
2. Rick & Morty Tiki Glasses and Lei
3. Carved Wooden Pirate #1
4. Blenheim Hot Ginger Soda Bottle
5. Dinosaur World Wrist Band
6. Olga the Haunted Doll
7. Coral Castle Paper Pop-Up
8. Carved Wooden Pirate #2
9. Vimto Can
10. Absinth Spoon
11. 2016 GISHWHES Bumper Sticker
12. Castiel Plush Doll
13. Sock Monkey Popsocket 
14. Captain Memo Pirate Cruise Souvenir Goblet 

#Obscuratorium #AtlasObscura #GISH #SecretTampaBay
#TampaBayScavenger #ReadMoreSleepLess