Tampa: Mecca of the Avant Garde

Those of you who once perused my long since defunct "Florida Follies" Web site may remember my cataloging of what passes for culture down here. We have, for example, the Big Daddy Don Garlits Museum of Drag Racing. Off of Highway 41 as it crosses the Everglades is, or perhaps was, the Skunk Ape Museum. And one might still observe faux mermaids performing their underwater synchronized swimming choreography at Weeki Wachee, where Johnny Weissmuller filmed his Tarzan movies.

Don't even get me started on Orlando.

Locally, my favorite newspaper columnist, Daniel Ruth, has oft times waxed poetic over the extensive collections of paper clips and belly button lint on display at Tampa's answer to New York's Museum of Modern Art. Dan'l is that rarest of human beings, a liberal with a sense of humor. I know, I know--how oxymoronic!

Despite its many attempts over the decades to transform itself into a cosmopolitan centre of the arts, Tampa is still known nationally as the nudie bar capital of the country. Neither New Orleans nor Las Vegas has anything on Tampa when it comes to pole and lap dancing.

In an effort to change its image as a T and A theme park, an advisory committee to Tampa's City Council suggested designating the Cuban as the city's signature sandwich.

"I have been to Cuba, I have been to Miami, and neither of those places serve a good Cuban sandwich," said an artist whose research into the history of the Cuban was used by the committee. "This sandwich was very influential to everybody who came to Ybor City or to Tampa in the early days of our city, starting in 1886 when Ybor City was founded."

Now, don't get me wrong. I love a good Cuban as much as the next guy. I've had them at all types of culinary establishments, from the Sand Key Columbia's to the storefront eatery around the corner from our casa, and several places in between. Can't say I've ever had a bad one, nor could I tell the difference in taste of one properly put together from one just slapped between two slices of pressed bread.

I am essentially an omnivore, not a gourmet. I did draw the line at eating bowls of noodles from the boiling pots in the back alleys of Taipei, though. You see, the water comes from the open sewer the locals call the Tamshui River. Also, no anchovies on my pizza, thank you very much. And after learning what I might have to eat to survive in the event our aircrew had to 'chute out or ditch in the jungle, I made up my mind that I was going to die. But otherwise, I'm pretty much open-minded. I just won't eat anything I can't identify.

Is this really why our elected officials are forming committees, holding meetings, seeking input from the public and calling for votes? Do they think the Cuban is going to replace the pasties and g-strings in the consciousness of tourists? Seriously?

Tampa is a city of 336,823, not counting its surrounding bedroom communities. Isn't there more important Council business than deciding which sandwich best enhances its cultural identity?

Well, if you're actually going to go this route you'll need a slogan. I suggest, "Forget Disney's Magic Mountain! Forget Universal's Harry Potter! Forget Sea World's Shamu! We have the Cuban!"

Yeah, that's the ticket. That'll have folks changing their airline reservations from Orlando to Tampa in droves.

Anybody reading this have a better one?

How to Self-Destruct

Last year, at the age of 21, Brittany Miles ended her life. Given that the life expectancy of women in Florida is 82.59, she has a good chance of being a dead woman walking for the next 61 years, maybe longer.

She is now, in a very real sense, a zombie.

On May 10, 2011, Brittany, daughter of a Hernando County deputy sheriff, mother of a young son, and former stripper, got all Lindsay Lohan, climbed into her truck, and went careening down the highway. A Pasco County deputy pulled her over in Hudson, arrested her on a suspected DUI, handcuffed her, and put her into a squad car.

In Florida, first-time DUI offenders are looking at a max of six months in the slam, $1,000 fine, temporary loss of driver's license, and a requirement to attend classes to learn why they shouldn't be DUIers. Or, they could simply get probation. It all depends on what the blood alcohol content reading is.

At the time she was placed into the patrol car, Brittany still had a future. Sure, she was going to have to spend the rest of the night in jail, hire and pay an attorney, maybe pay a fine, and have to go to school for a few hours to get her head straight. But so what? There was light at the end of her tunnel.

You would think she would accept her situation and take her lumps, wouldn't you? Well, you would be wrong, Jim Beam-breath.

Brittany managed to work one hand free of the cuffs. While the deputies were confabbing, she reached through an open squad car window and opened a door. She then ran off to her truck, hopped in, and floored it.

Sheriff's deputy Ashley Grady jumped up on the truck's running board and reached through the window to grab the keys. Brittany pushed the deputy off the truck and into the traffic lanes of Highway 19.

Highway 19, for those of you who do not live here, is one of the deadliest roads in Florida, perhaps the country. It is often either a raceway or a parking lot, depending upon the time of day. Luckily for the deputy, this was in a relatively rural area during the wee small. As it was, the deputy suffered cuts, bruises and a broken leg.

Brittany sped off, deputies in hot pursuit, and was doing 100 mph when she collided with a 67-year-old motorcyclist at an intersection in Hernando County.

You can check off the bad decisions Brittany made before doing her Danica Patrick impersonation. They alone demonstrate that her thought processes are seriously flawed. But then her brain completely locked up, earning her a shot at a Post-Partum Abortion Award.

Apprehended a second time and jailed, she called the father of her son. Her jailers recorded the conversation, during which she blamed Ashley's injuries on Ashley.

"As far as the deputy, you know, she jumped on the truck, you know what I mean? It's not like I hit her. She fell off. Like it was her decision to jump on the truck," Brittany rationalized. "She just jumped on the f*ing truck while I was f*ing driving. I mean, what was I supposed to do?"

Well, call me crazy, but how 'bout, uh, stop?

Earlier this week she pleaded "nolo contendre" to attempted murder, escape, fleeing to elude law enforcement, possession of methamphetamine and DUI. She is looking at a maximum sentence of life.

"Nolo contendre," or "no contest," means she accepts that authorities have enough evidence to convict her, but she does not admit to having done anything wrong.

It gets worse. See, the motorcyclist died. Now Brittany will go on trial in Hernando County for first-degree murder and aggravated fleeing and eluding.

Good strategy, there, Britt. I'm sure your refusal to admit guilt and your lack of remorse will weigh heavily with the judge while he ponders your sentence.

The Anti-Common Sense Gene

Two years ago, scientists at both UC San Diego and Harvard University concluded that "ideology is affected not just by social factors, but also by a dopamine receptor gene called DRD4."

People "with a specific variant of the DRD4 gene were more likely to be liberal as adults," they said. The effect is caused by a neurotransmitter in the brain called DRD4 which could be simulated by the novelty value of left-of-center opinions. The research suggests that some people have an inherent bias against conservative thinking that is independent of their education or upbringing.

It is important that we examine the phraseology used in these studies. May we conclude, for example, that "dopamine" is a derivative of "dope?" I think so.

People "with a specific variant of the DRD4 gene...."--can we interpret "variant" to mean "deviant?" "Mutation?"

"Novelty value of left-of-center opinions;" i.e., opinions the only value of which is that they are different from those mainstream.

"[S]ome people have an inherent bias against conservative thinking that is independent of their education or upbringing." In other words, in spite of how they were raised, and irrespective of what they should have learned at university, the corrupt gene prohibits their application of common sense to social problems.

Which largely explains the rants of liberal newspaper editors and columnists in general, and Tampa Bay Times resident lefty Robyn Blumner in particular.

Robyn personifies the DRD4 gene run amok. Look up "socialist dogmatic" in your Funk and Wagnall and you'll likely find her picture. She sees fascists, racists, ageists, elitists, homophobes, sexists, and male chauvinist pigs behind every tree.

She can't help it; she possesses the defective DRD4 gene.

What one cannot understand is how, after her malfunctioned genetic condition was scientifically diagnosed, she still is afforded space for her "novel" views. Consider her latest rant, published March 11.

"Florida and its women are being attacked," she wrote. "The state's Republican leaders are laying the legal groundwork for the day Roe v Wade is overturned by the Roberts court."

What Florida's Republicans are in fact trying to do is bring the state in line with the US Constitution. In Roe v Wade, the then liberal majority on the US Supreme Court found an implied right to an abortion as part and parcel of another implied right, that of privacy. 32 years ago, Florida Democrats amended Florida's constitution to include an explicit right to privacy. This has been interpreted to include a woman's right to an abortion. In the event Roe v Wade is overturned, Florida's constitution would then be at odds with that of the US. Even high school civics students know that the US Constitution trumps state constitutions.

Such imagery, Robyn. Florida women are not being "attacked." In the first place, not all women agree with Roe v Wade. It is superbly ironic that "Roe" herself later repudiated the Court's decision in her favor. Moreover, disagreement does not equate to physical assault. Do you actually believe Republicans want to subjugate women, many of whom are among their own ranks? Seriously?

Perhaps the DRD4 gene also is responsible for inculcating paranoia.

You Can Take the Hick Out of the Sticks . . .

Folks move into cities for many reasons. They want to be close to shopping. They want options for entertainment. They want cultural opportunities. They want easy access to hospitals and social services. Some even just want to get away from the smells of the country. Ever drive through Indiana in the spring with the windows down? If you have, you know what I'm talking about.

With the faddish obsession for all things "green," it has become trendy of late to try to bring the country into the city. And the livestock of choice? Chickens.

Certain Tampa residents are pressing city administrators to review rules which limit the ownership of chickens and, while they're at it, other livestock (see last week's post, "The Pig and Pvt Pyle").

"I think it's a really good thing to have your own eggs," said the vice president of a local civics association. "It's also an image thing...."

What image would that be, Farmer Bob? The image of a major metropolis awash in chicken dooky?

You know, there's a reason those rules have been in place for decades. As a professor of planning at the University of Florida explained, they were developed to limit the risks of transmitting animal-borne diseases to people.

One county commissioner scoffs at that rationale. She said the risk to public health from bird flu or other diseases is minimal to nonexistent.

"Hens don't carry bird flu," she said. "Like anything else, they have excrement. But proper hand-washing prevents any problems."

How many of your constituents do you know, Ms Commissioner, who purposely play with poultry poop? If this is the way you really want to go it would make more sense to wash your feet. In an area where flip flops and sandals are haute couture, they're the body parts that are going to need disinfecting. Are you prepared to legislate a requirement for foot baths at the entrances to restaurants? Or will it be socially acceptable to track in pollo guano as long as one's hands are clean?

She said Hillsborough County has already changed its rules because so many people were already keeping chickens illegally. Using that logic, why not legalize crack, ecstasy, heroin and crystal meth as well?

Here's a thought: So many folks run red lights; why not just do away with them?

Sue Carlton, a Tampa Bay Times columnist, has taken up the pro-chicken cause.

"In case you hadn't noticed," she pens, "chickens are hip."

"Hip?" What, they wear berets? They dig jazz? They throw raves and body surf?

"Chickens are hot," she goes on. "Chickens are all about the local movement. Their presence no longer makes yours the kind of city where folks put on their good overalls for a trip downtown."

Well, I'll grant you city folks here don't wear overalls. No, they're more apt to go about wearing cargo shorts with argyle socks and black wingtips. There's a real shortage of clothes horses here, no doubt about that.

Want to see what happens to a city that falls in love with its chickens? Drive down to Key West, which has been overrun with them for years. And when you go, heed this advice from your ol' Uncle Dave--either wear waders or stay on board the conch train.