BEST SLICE OF RURAL FLORIDA IN AN URBAN COUNTY
Ok, so I have a whopping conflict of interest on this one, but here goes.
In 1932, one of my grandfathers bought 20 acres in northwest Hillsborough County, most of which he planted in citrus. But he left a ring of natural woodlands around a crystal clear lake. And in a partially cleared grove of oak and pine trees, he and two other men built a cypress log cabin. Some of my best childhood memories were here: learning to fish with my grandfather and father, swimming and cavorting with siblings and cousins.
Fast forward 71 years. The old cabin burned down in the 1970s, while I was away at college. But I bought my mother's 5-acre remnant, along with a much smaller cabin, in 1996. To afford it, I live in a small condo in town. At the lake, I swim in water so clear you could drink it. At sunset I sit on my dock and watch ducks, herons and hawks make their evening migrations. Late at night, the noise from nearby Gunn Highway dies down, and the only sound comes from crickets, tree frogs and whippoorwills.
All this takes place less than 30 minutes from downtown Tampa.
Thanks to several generations of family stability, I'm a fortunate man. But I'm not the only person who cherishes the relative peace of this, one of the last "underdeveloped" sections in the Bay area.
My fellow members of the Keystone Civic Association (an assortment of old Crackers and an increasingly diverse set of newcomers) are well known for the tenacity of their opposition to suburban sprawl. Sometimes they get a little shrill, but they know what a precious and dwindling environment they live in, and they aim to protect it. For several years, the association has worked with county planners to write and enforce a community plan that prohibits strip commercial development and restricts new residential lots to five acres or more.
Just before the plan took effect in 2001, a big developer tried to put a Publix shopping center smack dab in the middle of it. I'd say "in the middle of nowhere," except this shopping center was going to be across the road from one of Tampa Bay Water's regional well fields — and, not insignificantly, next door to me. Its septic tanks, naturally, would percolate into my lake.
For most of a year my neighbors and I researched and developed arguments against it. County planners, then a hearing officer, sided with us. When it came time to appear before the County Commission, however, we were surprised to find carloads of northwest Hillsborough residents who'd been enticed to support this new shopping center, because it would be more convenient.
If it was convenience they wanted, why didn't they move into town?
Thankfully, all seven of the County Commissioners voted against the development. We beat Publix (still my favorite chain grocery). And our pastoral corner of the county was preserved from suburbia, at least for now.
Every few months, a persistent real estate broker calls and asks if he can stop by for a visit — just to tell me, you know, how much my property might be worth.
I always tell him I don't need to be told.
BEST GAY BAR
CitySide Lounge
Anyone's favorite bar depends on what you want out of it. For dance clubs, I prefer Club Chambers because it's gay every night it's open, and it gives support back to the community. Georgie's Alibi combines a dance floor with an inviting neighborhood eclecticism. For an adventurous and manly clientele, there's 2606; and for the late night crowd whose, um, appetites remain unfulfilled, there's always Metropolis.
But for now, top billing goes to the new CitySide Lounge , which this summer renovated and moved into the old Jungle, which was famous for having the most indifferent and disorganized bartenders in town. CitySide enlarged the all-important customer circulation areas and spiffed up the décor, which in turn re-attracted a handsome crowd. Lesbians and straight folks are welcome, of course, but it's mostly a gay guy's bar.
One night this summer I drove to CitySide in my ex-partner's Miata. (My truck was in the shop and he was out of town.) He'd warned me that his spare key didn't quite fit, and sure enough, when it came time to leave, I couldn't get it to work. I took a cab home and left the car there. I was too busy with work all the following day and evening to take care of it, so the next morning, one of the bar's managers called me at home — I'd left a note with the car — to say he was about to have it towed. I called back, explained the situation and asked for another day. No problem, he said.
That's the kind of consideration you want in your friendly neighborhood watering hole.
CitySide Lounge, 3703 Henderson Blvd., Tampa, 813-350-0600; Club Chambers, 1701 N. Franklin St., Tampa, 813-223-1300; Georgie's Alibi, 3100 Third Ave. N., St. Petersburg, 727-321-2112; 2606, 2606 N. Armenia Ave., Tampa, 813-875-6993; Metropolis, 3447 W. Kennedy Blvd., Tampa, 813-871-2410.
BEST CONCERT HALL
Ruth Eckerd Hall
In a rush of competition, Tampa, St. Petersburg and Clearwater all built new performing arts halls in the 1980s. The first and least expensive one, Ruth Eckerd Hall (which is celebrating its 20th anniversary this year) remains by far the best.
The Tampa Bay Performing Arts Center is busy but has all the charm of an airplane hangar. The inside of the Mahaffey Theater in St. Pete looks like the set of a Cole Porter musical, but who ever goes there?
Acoustically, Ruth Eckerd is the best place to hear classical music, although, regrettably, except for The Florida Orchestra those offerings have dwindled in recent years. Still, Ruth Eckerd produces a nice program of pop, jazz, dance and Broadway touring shows, and it has so mastered the art of promoting classic rock concerts that it now presents them both at home and on the road.
Ruth Eckerd Hall, 1111 McMullen-Booth Road, Clearwater, 727—791-7400 or www.rutheckerdhall.net.
BEST ARGUMENT FOR FREE ENTERPRISE (PIZZA DIVISION)For 15 years I had a favorite pizza joint. Not one of the chains, mind you, but a single location that pioneered locally the use of nontraditional ingredients. They delivered, of course. Eventually, a deluxe version of this pizza (six items for the price of four) became my favorite comfort food. I could come home late in the work week, completely spent, and place my phone order secure in the knowledge that within an hour or so, I'd be watching Friends and Frasier or Will and Grace, and chowing down on something familiar and wonderful.
The ritual was as satisfying as the food. Even when the generosity of the ingredients seemed to diminish or when they stopped offering coupons good for a free pizza after you bought five, I stayed loyal to this place. And I always gave a good tip.
Then something happened. A year or so ago, they sent me the wrong pizza. I called and politely pointed out the mistake. The voice on the other end of the line was apologetic. "The next pizza's on us," he said, promising to put a note in his computer. That was nice.
Six months later it happened again. Only this time, the guy on the phone was surly. "What do you want me to do about it?" he said.
How about a free pizza? "Nope," he said. Because I'd really been counting on a veggie-laden pizza, not the sausage and pepperoni artery-clogger they sent me, I reached into the freezer and defrosted something else. The next day I took the uneaten pizza back to the store and asked for my money back. They offered a free pizza next time instead.
Unbelievably, that very next pizza, about two weeks later, arrived with only three of the six ingredients I ordered. I called again. The guy put me on hold. A few minutes later, the same guy came back on the line and said I ought to just accept what I was given. "Dude, you got a free pizza," he said. Not exactly. I was still trying to get the one I'd already paid $20 for. I asked for the manager. He said he was the manager. I was starting to lose my cool, and he began to taunt me. In the background, I heard laughing.
I couldn't believe that these half-wit, spaced-out, underpaid pizza jockeys had turned me into a version of Frasier Crane. I felt silly and old.
Needless to say, I never called Sally O'Neal's Pizza Hotline again. But the death of one relationship always makes room for others. I've discovered a number of other good pizza purveyors in south Tampa: The Gourmet Pizza Company, Cappy's Pizzeria and Cesare's of New York Pizzeria are all stand-alone establishments that use good crusts, fresh ingredients and chipper service to please their customers. Lenny & Vinny's is part of a chain, but their pizza is good and the people who take my order always get it right. I haven't settled on a favorite yet; right now, I'm just playing the field.
And if whoever owns Sally O'Neal's wants to let unsupervised children chase off her best customers, well, who am I to argue? It's a free country.
The Gourmet Pizza Company, 610 S. Armenia Ave., Tampa, 813-258-1999; Cappy's Pizzeria, 309 S. Howard Ave., Tampa, 813-254-4948; Cesare's of New York Pizzeria, 2117 S. Dale Mabry, Tampa, 813-254-2141; Lenny & Vinny's, 533 S. Howard Ave., 813-254-3929.
This article appears in Sep 25 – Oct 1, 2003.