Peter B. Belmont
Attorney
St. Petersburg attorney Peter Belmont straddles two worlds. In neither is his chance of success much better than a manatee outliving another boating season.
A preservationist, Belmont often represents fellow environmentalists who challenge government permits to pollute. "It's hard to win," he said. "On the other hand, it seems like, for whatever miraculous reason, you are allowed to win by the system just enough so that you don't give up."
When he isn't banging heads with big law firms and their big fee-paying corporate clients, Belmont may be in Bradenton, sticking up for other citizens without much clout. He defends indigents in Manatee County felony courts.
Believe it or not, Belmont said, there is an upside to holding down such a thankless pair of jobs. "When you get so frustrated in one, you can maybe focus more on the other for a little bit," he said. "At times, it's refreshing."
His quixotic efforts on the conservation front have not gone unnoticed. Last year, the Sierra Club bestowed a national award on Belmont, 47, for his two decades of legal work to protect Florida wetlands and other wildlife habitats.
"Peter is highly respected and valued throughout the state as a committed, intelligent and knowledgeable environmental advocate," public lands protector Judy Hancock told the Sierra Club's Florida newsletter.
Most of his environmental cases find him fighting for causes outside of the Tampa Bay area. Around his hometown, Belmont is best known for his attempts to save St. Petersburg's beautiful open spaces and old buildings.
Belmont is perhaps proudest of helping get the city to require voter approval for permanent changes in the use of public parks and waterfront properties. That came out of legal skirmishes over restoration of the Vinoy hotel a decade ago.
His biggest disappointment was the City Council's refusal in 1987 to grant landmark protection to another hotel of St. Petersburg's 1920s-boom period. The Soreno was demolished five years later. The BayWalk entertainment complex, around the corner from Belmont's home, takes up the former hotel site today.
The Eckerd College graduate earned his law degree at Florida State University and was admitted to the bar in 1981. One of his early successes was getting Florida judges to liberalize the standards for deciding if citizens have legal standing to oppose state sanctioning of industrial pollution.
Florida lawmakers, under the spell of business lobbyists and their campaign cash, have been working to undo that ever since.
Green on the ca mpaign trail, many state lawmakers turn on true environmentalists once in Tallahassee, Belmont said. "How do we have a Legislature in the state of Florida in the shape and form that it is in?" asked Belmont, who has lobbied himself at the Capitol. "I mean, it's just horrendous for the environment. As far as I'm concerned, it's been a disaster up there for a fair number of years."
Cleaning up elections is the only solution, according to Belmont. "Until we have some type of campaign finance reform," he said, "we're going to have a hard time electing people who truly act on that public interest."
Florida criminal courts are also in decline, Belmont said.
"It's a very nasty system," he said. "We may have a good system in that people are presumed innocent and people are entitled to have trials by juries. On the other hand, there's a lot of unfairness. And it's getting worse all the time.
"It's not a very humanistic system and it's tremendously costly," Belmont added. "We have worse education and worse social services available to people because we spend so much on what we call the criminal justice system."
Against these odds, any triumph — whether as a public defender or an environmental attorney — is sweet for Belmont.
Years ago, Belmont and an attorney friend prevailed over a Mobil Corp. subsidiary that mined phosphate. A state lawyer read a sports magazine throughout the hearing while a polished team of Holland & Knight lawyers and paralegals defended his agency's issuance of a mining permit to the company, Belmont said.
The Mobil unit took the first round, but the bearded, long-locked Belmont won on appeal. "Sometimes, when we win," said Belmont, "we wonder: "What does a high-powered attorney tell a big client when they lose to us?'"
Developers and other foes enjoy reminding Belmont of his won-loss record. "I tell them that it may be difficult for us to win, but we do win every once in a while," Belmont rejoined. "And your case could be the one."
Marcus and Rose Hampton
Weep for the paucity of Bay area jazz venues. Rail at WUSF-89.7 FM for relegating jazz to the obscurity of graveyard air shifts. Don't get us started on "smooth jazz," the made-for-radio mongrelization of America's classical music. There is much to bemoan about what passes for a jazz scene in these parts. But Marcus Hampton tired of grousing and decided to do something about the sad situation. The Tampa horn player took matters into his own quite-capable hands — and, more precisely, into his back yard. Marcus and wife Rose Hampton open their Seminole Heights home to dozens of in-the-know jazz enthusiasts for periodic showcases of the best local and visiting players. Vocalist Turk Nelson, bassist Kenny Walker and guitarist Larry Camp are regulars at what has been dubbed the Hampton House of Jazz. They perform the real, straight-ahead stuff. That's Kenny Walker, not Kenny G. At a weekend-long gala in May, Marcus Hampton brought in his famous cousin, trombonist Slide Hampton, to jam with local musicians from as far away as Sarasota. Radio voices Vic Hall, Nick Lagos and Bob Seymour, among other area jazz luminaries, often make such events. Marcus Hampton takes a solo or two on trumpet. But he has been limited by partial facial paralysis since last winter. Off the bandstand, Rose Hampton leads an orchestra-size contingent of family members who feed the crowd. The buffet usually includes chicken and ribs, vegetables, salads and a variety of desserts. Wash it all down with your favorite beverage. Many nights, Rose Hampton comes out from behind her apron between sets to ask guests how they like the food and what else they need. Rose, we need more nightspots around the bay where we can hear real jazz. Until that blessed day, thanks for what you and your husband do to keep the music alive.
Joe Haskins
Bike Shop Owner
Color Lloyd Goldstein impressed. Recently when he was at Joe Haskins Bike Shop, "to find out about a seat with cut-out to protect the privates," he picked out a model reasonably priced, or so he thought, at $40.
Joe Haskins redirected him to a cheaper one with equal private-protecting powers, telling him, "This one's only $18."
Attempt to spend too much of your paycheck in Haskins' shop, says a bewildered Goldstein, and Haskins will talk you out of it. The shop has been at the corner of Florida Avenue and Columbus Boulevard for more than 20 years, but it has been in existence since 1916, when it was the Tampa Cycle Co. Joe bought the business from an uncle in 1958.
The air in the shop smells like rubber. Shiny new bikes line the floor in rows of three, with bikes on racks over the back row, and yet more hanging from the ceiling like bats over them. Two chairs on either side of the door hold waiting customers and loiterers alike. One guy in sunglasses looks as if he's paid by the hour just to sit and make sarcastic remarks.
Joe himself is humble, nonchalantly shrugging off and half-smiling at the praise Goldstein has heaped upon him.
Haskins' wife, Dorothy, likens the family business — one of their six kids started working at the shop six years ago, and so did Dorothy up until a car accident in '94 — to an old barbershop, "with the guys going in, and they chew the fat," she says.
"And we have a lot like him in here," she says, aiming her voice at a guy sitting in one of the chairs by the door. "Some just stop by to say hello to Joe."
They've been coming by all day this Monday, mostly to check on Joe. He was out a few days the week before, having laser eye surgery, and the regulars were thrown into complete disarray. They're used to having Joe around six days a week to patch tires and replace pedals. "Instant repair," Dorothy calls it.
Shortly after his eye surgery, Joe is out front, wearing large black sunglasses, helping a customer whose bike lies lamely on the sidewalk along Florida.
"He shouldn't even be out there with his eyes like that," Dorothy says. Joe gives personal help to the residents of Tampa Heights, who might spend all of a dollar or two in the shop. And they help him too.
"We never had any trouble in here, at all," says Dorothy. "All of 'em around here, I think they protect our shop."
Despite its proximity to downtown, Joe Haskins Bike Shop isn't just frequented by locals and 9-to-5ers. "They come from all over," says Dorothy.
"St. Pete, Zephyrhills, Brooksville, Lakeland. In fact, one guy (from Lakeland) passed away now, but he wouldn't let nobody else touch that bike but Joe. So he would ride his 3-wheeler, at 2 or 3 in the morning, just to get here to Joe."
"I rode from Key West this morning," says the squatter by the door.
"No you did not, Booger."
Finally, Joe has a minute to talk about his bike shop. "Like any business, it goes up and down. Lean years and good years."
"You never know what's gonna happen. Sometimes you have nice, restful times." His left eye glows red and watery.
"You gotta take care of 'em in a personal way. Everybody's got a little different problem. And we don't ignore it," he says and chuckles.
A salesman walks in with a shipment of riding gloves with "Sheriff" imprinted on them. Joe does a lot of work with police departments.
After it's a done deal, the salesman opens up his big surprise: An air seat.
Joe laughs. He's seen 'em before. Not like this one, he's told.
"Sitting on air," Joe says with a laugh.
"Cops'll like that," says Dorothy.
"Everyone will like that," Joe shoots back.
Joe Haskins Bike Shop is at 2310 N. Florida Ave., Tampa. 813-229-8409.
Tyrone Keys
Founder, All Sports Community Service
If Tyrone Keys had ended his NFL days about 10 years later, he might be sitting around the manse, counting his money. But probably not. Even though he retired from the San Diego Chargers in 1989 — and was a member of the Super Bowl-winning '85 Bears — his life's calling would prove far more profound than playing defensive end.
In 1993, Keys, a Mississippi native living in Tampa, formed All Sports Community Service, an organization dedicated to mentoring at-risk teens, placing them in college and arranging financial aid. Most of All Sports' clients are first-generation college students. Many, but by no means all, are athletes. All that Keys asks in return from his charges is that they mentor for a new generation of All Sports kids.
On a recent afternoon, Keys' office in Tampa had received three calls on its 800 number from homesick students at college. So the mentoring and support continue through school. Keys estimates that since '93, 70 young people have completed college under the All Sports aegis. The program has seen 350 kids go through its ranks. Each year, about 40 All-Sporters head off to college, while 20 to 30 are at each level. All Sports has raised and dispersed $14-million in scholarships and aid.
In 1992, Keys helped Albert Perry, one of the top running backs in Hillsborough County, arrange to attend Texas Southern University. Keys assumed that someone would set up a way for Perry get there. But the young man never arrived at school because he couldn't manage transportation. Perry told Keys that if he didn't leave his hardscrabble neighborhood, he'd end up dead. The following week, Perry was shot and killed on the same mean streets he so desperately wanted to escape.
Contrast that tragedy to a current All Sports story. One candidate, not an athlete, was particularly active in community service. All Sports sent a video featuring his volunteer work and public speaking skills to North Carolina State University. The school came through with around a hundred thousand dollars in scholarships, and the student is entering his senior year.
Keys has been a leader virtually all his life. In the third grade, he wanted to become a traffic "patrol boy." Problem was, you had to be in the fifth grade. Undaunted, and big for his age, Keys got his hands on a patrol belt, had his mother drop him off a half mile from school, and helped kids cross the street.
His neighborhood in Jackson, Miss., did not have a youth football league, so at age 10 he and some friends organized one, including a player draft. He wrote a sixth grade report on the NFL draft. "I found out that it was established to create parity," Keys says, "so that weaker teams had a chance to grow stronger. That's how I look at the whole concept of what we're doing. You take kids from tough environments, the ones who show desire and will, and will follow our guidelines, you teach them how to be grateful, and you give them a chance."
All Sports is always in need of corporate sponsorship and volunteers. To contact the organization, call 813-348-3729.
State Sen. Tom Lee, R-Brandon
It's hard to find a state legislator nowadays who inspires confidence. Lobbyist-paid-for legislation has become such a norm that the senators and representatives pout with feigned offense if a voter suggests there's something wrong with the practice.
And term limits — proposed as a way to curb power brokering — have only added to the problem. The final terms for veterans are marked by frenzied payoffs to special interests and backroom deal making.
So, it is refreshing to find someone like Tom Lee who still views the job of being a senator as a public trust.
Lee, a Brandon Republican, has earned highest points on the bloody battleground of growth management. Florida has long taken a modest approach to managing development. Cities and counties must devise plans and make an attempt, even if halfhearted, at adhering to the growth blueprints. Many critical services — although, significantly, NOT schools — must be addressed by developers under what is termed "concurrency." If roads are inadequate, for example, builders must contribute to improvements necessary for their developments. Impact fees, although they clearly offset only a tiny portion of the cost of growth, are imposed on new construction.
The fact that the growth laws are minimal and easily circumvented — and almost never deter construction — isn't enough to mollify Florida's avaricious developers. Beginning with the election of Jeb Bush to the governor's mansion, the GOP-dominated Legislature has been yammering to gut the growth management laws.
For the last two years, Sen. Lee — a builder himself — has kept his fingers in the dike. Some of what he has done has been a holding action, successfully advocating for a commission to study laws rather than just tossing them out. But, probably without Lee and a handful of other legislators, Florida's citizens would now be defenseless against uncontrolled development.
It's worth noting that Lee talks intelligently about reforming the laws. One change that has been recommended would be full-cost accounting for new development. Lee, and even Bush, correctly saw that the concept might have merit, but without strict definitions, developers would turn it on its head, claiming the "benefits" of more concrete far outweighed the costs of new roads, schools, sewers, etc.
Lee has not backed off, despite pressures from the business community. Earlier this summer, he told one rural Hillsborough audience: "Growth is not paying for itself, and the more we grow the more we get behind."
The common sense behind that statement is obvious — everywhere but in Tallahassee.
Lee was first elected to the Florida Senate in 1996, his first run for elected office. He had no opposition last year for re-election. He is principled, which in the Legislature makes him somewhat of a maverick.
Last year, Lee was appointed by the Senate president to chair the powerful Senate Committee on Rules and Calendar. As chairman, Lee is responsible for establishing the Senate's legislative agenda.
In many other areas, Lee has shown initiative, such as sponsoring legislation to rein in the soaring cost of prescription drugs.
The senator has won many awards, but one stands outs for this Republican businessman: The Sierra Club of Florida's Legislator of the year.
Pam Iorio
Florida is enshrined in the history books. For 36 torturous days last year, we couldn't tell the rest of the nation who the next president would be.
Our state's top election official, Katherine Harris, was clueless. Confused, re-count-weary election supervisors barricaded themselves in county courthouses to escape media queries they were getting no help answering.
Into that vacuum stepped Pam Iorio.
The Hillsborough County supervisor, by virtue of her presidency of a statewide association of election officials, was left to explain why a 537-vote difference between major-party candidates would have exposed ballot-counting flaws just about anywhere.
Florida's presidential election fiasco tarred many of our public officials. But Iorio came across as a calm and articulate counterpoint to the national perception that every politician in Florida was a chad-deranged boob.
Iorio answered more than 700 media inquiries from all over the world — morning, noon and night for five straight weeks.
"New York Times, Wall Street Journal, L.A. Times, the French newspapers, the London Times," she said. "It was constant."
After the U.S. Supreme Court gave George W. Bush the White House keys, Iorio really got down to work. This year, she lobbied voting reforms through the Legislature and assisted with guidelines that she hopes will keep Florida out of the headlines in future election years.
Like her colleagues, Iorio had failed for years to get her county commission, where she used to serve, to update equipment and procedures. "When it comes to elections," Iorio said, "there is a sentiment that you only do it once every two years and please do it as cheaply as possible and don't bother us."
Nothing like worldwide humiliation to loosen the purse strings.
"This past election revealed that we have not made an investment in our election administration and it caught up with us," said Iorio. "It doesn't matter whether it's an event that you do every 20 years. If it's the foundation of your form of government, then it needs to be adequately funded."
Iorio has become a vocal proponent of touch-screen voting, even though the equipment is roughly four times as expensive as optically scanning ballots, the chief alternative if punch cards are abandoned.
"One of the things that we learned from this election was that the paper ballot was unreliable," said Iorio. "Voters make errors on paper ballots."
Iorio said touch screens eliminate over-votes, which disqualify a ballot when two choices are inadvertently marked in a single race.
"The technology cost is a price we should all happily bear in order to ensure that all votes are counted and that we have a system that all voters can easily use and that's completely accurate," said Iorio.
The Hillsborough supervisor hopes to complete her master's degree in American history this fall.
Her thesis was going to explore Hillsborough's deplorable history of discouraging black voters. (Iorio has long advocated restoring voting rights to felons who have served their sentences.) After Nov. 7, Iorio switched to a study of the re-counts from the viewpoint of Florida's 67 county election supervisors.
Iorio interviewed the most famous supervisor, Palm Beach's Theresa LePore, on her local cable show. Dubbed "Madame Butterfly," LePore wanted to make her county's ballot easier to read. Instead, fellow Democrats blamed Al Gore's defeat on the "butterfly ballot" she created.
"Just as one human being to another, I look at her and I feel awful for what has occurred," said Iorio. "Her life will never be the same, and I feel for her."
When asked about her own future, Iorio points to a water-filled glass orb on the table and laughs. It contains a replica of downtown Tampa, including city hall.
"Isn't that a perfect crystal ball to have?" Iorio asked. She is widely expected to announce for the 2003 Tampa mayoral race early next year.
BEST FRIENDLY EMERGENCY ROOM STAFF
Tampa Memorial Hospital
2901 Swann Ave.
Tampa 813-873-6400
Yes, we know alarmist-types rush to the emergency room at the first sign of a sniffle, and we acknowledge this would indeed annoy the hell out of us, too. But — and listen carefully, nurses, doctors, et. al — you've chosen this profession! Tell us, readers: How many times have you sat for hours in an emergency waiting room, only to find your fever reduced by the chilly demeanor at the reception desk? Listen up, staff: People are (or think they are) sick. That's why they go the emergency room. And your shitty, stop-being-such-a-pussy attitude does not help. But the kind folks at Tampa Memorial, for the most part, are not only decent, helpful human beings — they try their best to comfort each sad case that limps through their door. And that's more important to the healing process than an entire pharmacy full of painkillers. Well, almost.
BEST LOCAL BOY MAKES BAD
Johnnie B. Byrd
Johnnie B. Bad. Actually, the name of the next Florida House speaker is Johnnie B. Byrd. The Republican attorney from Plant City apparently won't be ushering in a new ethical era in Tallahassee after November 2002. Byrd is taking justifiable flak for operating a little slush fund that pays his personal expenses on the way to the top. Local GOP moneybags Sam Rashid and Weekly Planet investor Dick Mandt helped Byrd seed the thing. Byrd has since collected $200,000-plus to fan his political ambitions. The future speaker wants you to give him a hand for disclosing who donated. State law doesn't require it. Byrd says he tried to make it a requirement but failed. Democrats favor keeping the donor lists secret because they say the GOP-led Legislature will punish their givers. Such a thing happens in Tallahassee? Wonder if Byrd is going to do anything about that when he becomes speaker?
BEST DRUG WAR CZAR
Bob Taylor
Florida Drug Report'
P.O. Box 28
St. Petersburg 727-866-9856
How would you expect a chronicler of drug-enforcement excesses to look? Like a young raver? An aging stoner? Bob Taylor recently celebrated his 71st birthday. He looks 20 years younger. Trim and tan from thrice-weekly tours of local tennis courts, the St. Petersburg semi-retiree keeps active doing things besides perfecting his serve. Taylor blasts the war on drugs with every bimonthly issue of his Florida Drug Report. "I find current drug policy — drug policy for the last 30, 40 years — appalling and surrealistic," he said. "It's absolutely goddamn crazy." Whether it's police fattening their budgets with dubious asset seizures, recreational users doing mandatory prison for simple possession, or everyone's civil liberties eroding in service to the drug-enforcement state, Taylor's plain and simple newsletter is usually there to cover it. Sometimes, he doesn't need to travel far. In June, Taylor interviewed hip-hop producers whose music studio was torched in a botched south St. Petersburg drug raid. City vice detectives tossed in a "flash-bang" device to distract the occupants. Instead, the device set the place ablaze. The cops thought their suspicions were confirmed when young black men fled the building. A victim told Taylor: "Look, I'm sitting there playing video games. All of a sudden, I hear this thud and then the wall bursts into flame. What would they expect me to do?" No drugs were found and the rap producers denied having any. "Even if they did, there's no excuse for this kind of behavior," Taylor said. Taylor said he seldom does illegal substances himself and has had no run-ins with the law over it. "I've had very little personal experience with drugs," he said. He has a different motive. "It's the injustice of it that bothers me," Taylor said. "I hate, above all, bullies. And there's something so bullying about this.
BEST 'WEEKLY PLANET' FAN
Jerry Nixon
Dick wasn't the only tricky Nixon. Ask any of the myriad media losers in Tampa Bay, and odds are most of them have heard of Jerry Nixon. Short in stature and long on e-mails, Nixon has a love affair with the media, specifically radio. In his manner, attitude and nonstop activity, Nixon strives to turn that love affair into a working relationship. Man-oh-man does he want a job in radio. A morning show, to be specific, though he says he's not really a morning person. He sees himself as producer or on-air sidekick. He says things like, "I'm funny. I'm a good writer," but he'll tell you a moment later that he's not that good a writer, that he's not funny enough to be the main guy — a Bubba — but he'd make a good second. But as Stephen Stills irritatingly sang, "If you can't be with the one you love/love the one you're with." This disingenuous seduction, loosely translated from free-lovin' hippie-speak into modern terms, means "knock boots with whoever's wearing boots." Perhaps only because we at the Weekly Planet have nice boots and e-mail addresses listed online, Nixon bombards the Planet with e-mail and, occasionally, phone calls. He shows us the love often, such as when he wrote a piece about Stefanie Kalem's departure, quoting various musicians and barflies around town as each weighed in on Ms. Kalem. Our reaction: Is he stalking us? He could probably pick any of us out of a police lineup ("That's Fran Gilpin over there between Andy Summers and Stewart Copeland"). For now, the 30-year-old Connecticut transplant is just left of where he wants to be, promoting and pitching DRD Productions' parties and other club events. The true target of his affection is 97X, though, not hair bands at Frankie's Ybor. "Things are up in the air with that," he says. When it comes to Tricky Nixon, resistance is futile. His loss of his laptop hasn't deterred him, and he freely admits that a lot of his work is conducted through the computer labs at colleges he does not attend. Nixon knows the ropes, the shortcuts, the back alleys. He's been asked to stop sending e-mails by a few, blocked by others, including yours truly, and he still can't keep from clicking send. He wants a radio job so bad. So far, he hasn't had much luck. In the spring, he dreamed up a scheme for radio guys to come to his house for a $5 car wash that included Nixon's Ramen noodle salad, resume and demo tape. You either love or hate a guy who won't go away. Thing is, though, he's thinking of going away — back to the cold north. Back to Connecticut. What does he want the reader to know? "Just go to our (DRD) events." If you don't, and if someone doesn't fork over a radio job soon, Nixon's outta here. But not without sending more e-mail magnum opuses, you can safely bet.
BEST CORPORATE FREELOADER
Richard Korpan
Florida Power Corp. has been canning union electrical workers by the dozen at its power plants during the past year. Gotta stay lean, you know. If the St. Petersburg utility is so concerned about keeping trim, though, why did the guy who delivered Florida Power's parent into the arms of a North Carolina power company last year cash out with $15-million? Oh, almost forgot. Dick Korpan, 59, gets an $828,845 annual pension for the rest of his days, too. Korpan engineered the Carolina Power & Light takeover after saying for years that Florida Power was gonna be a contender in the brave new world of deregulated energy. Must have seemed too much like work. Florida Power electricians weren't the only ones who got taken. State regulators have ordered Florida Power to set aside $114-million while they calculate exactly how much the utility's customers were overcharged in 2000.
BEST LEGISLATOR
State Rep. Sara Romeo, D-Dist. 60
When Florida House Speaker Tom Feeney praises a Democrat, that must be some kind of Democrat. Rep. Sara Romeo is some kind of public servant, period. The freshman legislator from Lutz had headaches early in the legislative session in March. Romeo thought it must be stress. A scan revealed a tumor on her brain stem. Romeo worked for more six weeks in Tallahassee. The benign tumor was surgically removed in May. If operated on earlier, Romeo would have missed most of her first session because of the recovery time. Others with serious medical problems would have lost. Gov. Jeb Bush signed a Romeo bill protecting the long-term ill from utility shutoff when they cannot pay their electric bill. Romeo amazed her colleagues. "This would have been an excellent reason for most people to do a mediocre job," said Feeney. "Instead, she's been an intense advocate for what she believes in."
BEST REAL ESTATE INVESTOR
Alan Kahana
Ybor City Ybor City developer Alan Kahana, a.k.a. the Weekly Planet's landlord, made a killing this year on one of his properties in Tampa's Latin Quarter. He, his partners and his lawyers should thank the taxpayers of Tampa for the judicially compelled generosity. In 1996, Kahana bought a couple of triplexes between Eighth and Ninth avenues for $185,000. A good place for a hotel, Kahana thought. City officials had other ideas. The officials, their Ybor yuppification plan in need of parking on the Quarter's west end, decided the parcel was just the spot for a garage. But Kahana turned down their offer of around $250,000. The city went through a condemnation suit to get the property. In the end, Kahana walked away with $1-million. The city is picking up his legal bills too. After quintupling his money, Kahana should have enough dough to sweep up the broken beer bottles in our parking lot.
BEST REASON TO LIKE BILL MCBRIDE
This managing partner of Holland & Knight supported the law firm's move to raise their minimum wage to $12 per hour. The law firm partners will pay for the raise. McBride was quoted in the St. Petersburg Times as saying, "Most of the partners make too much money anyway, at least compared to the value we give back to society." Words of a master politician? Maybe. But they show he at least knows about humility. And he did put his money where his mouth is.
BEST MEDIA SLUT
Michael Sterns
author of 'Kokopelli and the Butterfly'
It's paradoxical. You want to sort of strike out at the Best Media Slut, but by writing about the best slut, you are giving the slut more press. Sit down, Nancy Alexander. This isn't about you. Love him or hate him, former Weekly Planeteer Michael Sterns is right at home in a literary world-gone-Hollywood, where moxie, a cell phone and connections mean everything. There's self-promotion, which understandably a guy's got to do when self-published, and then there's out-and-out sluttsville. Not reluctant to refer to himself as a writer on the merit of one self-published and — hate to say it, but must — poorly written, poorly researched kids' book, Sterns aims for his baby to be purchased, read and loved. Its environmental message is abundantly clear, but the book's blood-ties (and tremendous style debt) to Disney's Pocahontas are hard to ignore since it's also one of the book's selling points. After five years of hard work, Sterns was really excited to have published Kokopelli and the Butterfly, about an animal lovin' flute tooter. And everyone in Tampa Bay heard about it at Sterns' many appearances, including our personal fave, a reading at CORE, the Center of Radical Empowerment. We've seen stickers about Kokopelli. Fliers too. And his yellow Bug is a rolling ad for the Web site. But you have to give the man credit. Sterns did manage to see — everyone now — his dream come true. His hard work, perseverance, infectious energy and tolerance for the sound of his own voice have paid off. Sterns cajoled us, his former colleagues, to write not just a review but a whole article, then phoned to express his displeasure about what we wrote. Something tells us that John Updike and Gore Vidal are way too mannered for those kinds of moves. But then, excluding Shel Silverstein and a few other notable exceptions, children's authors generally are to serious fiction writers what kite enthusiasts are to astronauts. Every washed-up actor worth his weight in plastic surgery bills blurts out plans to write a kids' book, whenever they're being interviewed on the Today show. Sluts.
BEST MOMS
Developers love Florida, and generally, Florida loves developers. But not always. Three Valrico PTA moms, Debbie Fabrizio, Jennifer Faliero and Angie Piche, made headlines earlier this year when they dropped the bake sale and delved into grassroots politics. (Ever since Harper Valley PTA, media goobers have loved stories about PTA mamas, and we're no exception.) Their gripe: If new development would further crowd existing schools, already packed gill-tight with students, they would like, um, for governments in Hillsborough County to tell said developers where they can stick their new edifices. However, the proposed loophole — imagine that, developers having to jump through loopholes — would be if they helped, um, build new schools. Smile when you say these moms' grassroots are showing: As Faliero told the Times, "I like the fact that they think we're just a bunch of moms. That's to our advantage. They just don't know what we're capable of."
BEST KIDS' THERAPY
Traverse
10730 N. 56th St.
Temple Terrace 813-980-3488
Nicholas Cordero was 17 when he was clubbed to death with a baseball bat by another youth at his family's Town N Country apartment complex in 1998. His sudden death devastated his mother. But Barbara Cordero also worried about the reaction of her surviving child. Peter Cordero, then 10, told her that he wouldn't talk about Nick for two years. "I thought if he kept all this repressed that he would have a hard time dealing with it later," Barbara Cordero said. "I was so afraid of losing him, too. I didn't want him to go around with a lot of hatred inside." Grief counselors and a homicide detective recommended Traverse, a program of equestrian therapy for traumatized children. For nine months through June 1999, Peter Cordero and a handful of other youngsters spent two afternoons a week at a Thonotosassa ranch. They learned to groom, ride and eventually bond with horses. In Peter's case, it was a moody steed named Stinger. "I saw him change, from being quiet and depressed and not wanting to do anything, to caring," said Barbara Cordero. Learning to ride lures many a withdrawn youngster to the program. "No child wants to be in therapy," said Traverse co-founder Glenda Henderson. But children are required to set personal and educational goals. The children spend a half-hour together at the end of each session. "You talk about what's bothering you," said Barbara Cordero. "That's what Traverse is about," added Henderson, "solving problems and becoming a better person." Peter Cordero eventually confided that he picked Stinger because the horse reminded him of his baseball-star brother. "He was sometimes feisty, sometimes nice," said Barbara Cordero. Out of his shell, a cheerful Peter has emerged. He even adorns the cover of a Traverse brochure, smiling atop Stinger. "He's a natural horseman," his proud mother said.
BEST HOLISTIC-HEALTH RADIO PERSONALITY
Joel Chudnow
Hawk Radio HCC
WXYV-1520 AM
Noon-1 p.m.
Wednesdays and Fridays
When we asked Joel Chudnow how he became interested in holistic health, his response was as truthful as it was simple. "I got sick," he replied. Suffering from several ailments, including arthritis, Joel was barely able to walk. He felt tired. His doctors gave him little relief and even less hope. That's when he turned to alternative medicine and became a connoisseur of holistic-health education. He attended countless lectures, read countless books and for over a year consumed little more than fresh vegetable juice. At the end of his first year of healthy living Joel was better, but he still wasn't well. After re-evaluating his life, he realized that though he had always considered himself a healthy person, he did little in the way of spiritual practice. He began meditating, he says, achieved enlightenment (on his 51st day of meditating) and less than a week later he was well again. If seeing is believing, Joel is undoubtedly a believer. After 348 hours of radio time advocating healthy bodies, spirits and minds, Joel continues to positively affect the health of Tampa Bay.
BEST HOLY ROLLERS
Without Walls International Ministry
2511 N. Grady Ave.
Tampa 813-879-4673, ext. 273
Don't be dismayed by the flashy, jewel-bedecked co-pastors Randy and Paula White. At first glance, they seem like the typical well-coiffed, 40-something Barbie and Ken couple you catch on The 700 Club. Though they appear to be raking in the dough, the work going on at their church shows a much different side of them — dare I say, a Christian side. The Whites started Without Walls in a big white tent in a parking lot near Tampa International Airport 10 years ago. Now the organization, popular with Tampa Bay Buccaneer players and other Bay area illuminati, stands strong as a behemoth of Jesus love in the former Canada Dry building. It's impressive in the way it attracts an evenly distributed cultural mix that numbers in the thousands. Services at Without Walls are entertaining and uplifting. The choir, led by Javen Campbell, is backed by a tight R&B/Gospel band that puts the soul in spiritual. In addition to their charismatic services, the Whites have developed a reputation for helping underprivileged children by delivering busloads of clothes and school supplies, and helping single mothers get off welfare. The church's Feed the Children event on March 17 attracted more than 5,000 people in need, and provided semi-tractor trailers of food, clothing, hygienic supplies, medical exams and haircuts. Without Walls also offers trade schools and a doctor on staff.
BEST BIG BROTHER CRIME PREVENTION
"You! Yes you! Stay right there! We're coming to get you!" booms an ominous voice. Cool, you think. Someone found a vintage Mr. Microphone! Next thing you know, instead of a convertible loaded with nubile young party nymphs, a paddy wagon rounds the corner, a buncha cops in mirrored sunglasses jump out and "click" go the cuffs over your Gucci cufflinks. This is not cool, you think as you're hauled off to the hoosegow. All this harrassment because some face recognition software (under the obnoxiously name "FaceIt") mistook you for a drifter wanted for shoplifting Spaghetti-O's from the U-Save on Nebraska. Welcome to Ybor City in the 21st century. Gone are the hardworking immigrants and handy cigarmakers, present are cloistered cops spying on you via surveillance cameras. Under the guise of keeping the public safe, yet another freedom, privacy, fell by the wayside when 36 surveillance cameras were wired to a polizei computer, using the same controversial technology employed during this year's Super Bowl. An editorial at the Times aptly called it "a digital police lineup." Citizens, the smart ones anyway, were pissed enough to stage a few protests — while wearing gasmasks and bandannas, of course, for their spots in the crimelight. Dick Greco, the man with the final word on the matter, slept restfully.
BEST IMITATION OF A POLICE STATE
Legends Field
1 Steinbrenner Drive
Tampa
June 4, 2001
Around dinnertime, George W. Bush was in the house that Hillsborough County taxpayers built, spring baseball home of the Yankee Doodle Dandies. But it could have been Augusto Pinochet or some other dissent-crushing despot up on the podium, judging from the crowd control. A brave trio of anti-Bush protesters carrying placards supporting gay rights and questioning the 2000 election results stood among mostly Republicans. GOP operatives Bill Bunkley and William Cordova didn't appreciate the minority sentiment and got Tampa police to haul Maurico Rosas, Sonja Haught and Janis Lentz off to the slammer. Pro-Bush signs in the crowd waved their concurrence. When the St. Petersburg Times exposed Bunkley's role in the arrests, he said no political signs of any kind were supposed to be displayed. Before the fracas, Bunkley claimed to have seen no Bush signs anywhere. Time to be fitted for a prescription pair, Bill.
BEST SIGN THAT DEMOCRACY MAY STILL WORK
It's not easy getting the ship of state turned around in the right direction. But that's what Floridians did in April. The Legislature was about to legalize the untested practice of storing wastewater in the aquifer for later use during dry spells. Gov. Jeb Bush was ready to sign the bill. The practice, called aquifer storage and recovery, or ASR, was cheaper than surface reservoirs, Bush said. Green lobbyists wanted scientific assurance that the wastewater wouldn't contaminate the freshwater aquifer. They got none. Bush and pro-ASR lawmakers were criticized by thousands of constituents urging reconsideration. To the surprise of environmentalists, Bush buckled and Senate sponsor Ken Pruitt, R-Port St. Lucie, withdrew the proposal. "Hysteria prevailed over science," whined Pruitt. Bush said he didn't want to expose his allies to "distorted" attacks. Translation: We better forget this until after the next election because the voters don't look like they're going to.
BEST TWISTED LOGIC
Tampa City Attorney Jimmy Palermo has been pilloried enough for trying to get a cut-rate, tax-funded pension. But Mayor Dick Greco's tortured arguments for it haven't gotten the recognition they deserve. Greco wanted a special law for Palermo, who makes $121,000 annually, so the 63-year-old barrister could buy a $43,000-a-year lifetime pension for $95,000. Palermo declined twice to join the retirement system at usual rates. As opposition mounted in Tallahassee, Greco whined to The Tampa Tribune: "It's not fair to punish him just because he happens to be a friend of mine." Huh? Greco's friendship was the only reason the bill got to the Senate floor, where it passed despite objections from some brave city employees and others. The House killed it. Greco's post-mortem for the St. Petersburg Times: "There are a lot of people who are not happy with Jimmy right now, i.e. the nude club owners." Last we checked, Joe Redner's influence at the Capitol was — shall we say — minimal.
BEST MEDIA FEEDING FRENZY
Sharks!
All right, who threw the chum in the water? Just when you thought it was safe to turn on your TV this summer and watch the evening news, you were treated to visual upon visual of Sharks! feeding. "Sharks eat?" we seemed to be saying. Even a wittle baby sperm whale who got bit by a shark made headlines as it was trucked in to Clearwater to recuperate at Fort Harrison Hotel. (For L. Ron's sake, hang up the phone; we're just kidding!) That's life in the big sea, kids. Although what with all the attacks this summer, including one on an 8-year-old and a slew of others on surfers (including six in one busy weekend at New Smyrna Beach) the sharks may seem to be actively seeking press, it is far more likely they are actively seeking food. Hell, think how hungry you are after a day at the beach. Word to the wise: While the Sharks currently have the edge, don't count the Jets out just yet. They've kicked sand in the Sharks' gills before, and word is they're about to break out into some beautifully choreographed song and dance routines that'll send those Sharks scurrying for deeper water with their tailfins between their … fins.
BEST WAY TO SILENCE YOUR CRITICS
Sue 'em! That's what one half of Tampa's two-company taxicab cartel did. Nancy Castellano, general manager of Gulf Coast Transportation Inc., sued a couple of her drivers in February after they decided to try to compete against United Cab and the other Gulf Coast taxi fleets. Castellano wants $5-million from John Bailey and Frank Dunn because she says they defamed Gulf Coast by telling unspecified "others" that her company is mobbed up and cheats drivers. Bailey and Dunn do think they were getting the short end of taximeter at United. They filed suit to be declared Gulf Coast employees covered by wage-and-hour laws. Castellano considers them independent contractors who get neither an hourly wage nor fringe benefits. It won't be easy starting a new cab company in Tampa. Besides a Byzantine approval process, the drivers must overcome a government-sanctioned stranglehold that the cartel enjoys at Tampa International Airport.
BEST FEDERAL RECLAMATION PROJECT
Office of the United States Attorney
Middle District of Florida
Tampa
By many accounts, the local U.S. Attorney's Office has been in a shambles since before Chuck Wilson left to take a federal appellate judgeship in 1999. A politically sensitive case gets dropped unexpectedly (ex-Tampa Councilman Ronnie Mason). Prosecutors get censured for tolerating or making false statements (Karen Cox and Michael Rubinstein). Others in the office stick with pitifully weak wiretap evidence from hearing-impaired detectives until the embarrassment can be spread around (Steven and Marlene Aisenberg). These may be isolated cases. But that isn't what we're hearing. The secrecy shrouding Department of Justice business makes these kinds of determinations largely guesswork. But it is safe to say the Tampa federal prosecutor's office could stand some improvement. The new Bush team coming in has a golden opportunity. In a town like Tampa and in a state like Florida, making white-collar and political crime a true priority again would be a nice start.
BEST UNINTENDED IMPRESSION OF MAX PATKIN
Tampa Bay Devil Rays
1 Tropicana Drive
St. Petersburg 888-326-7297
The late "clown prince of baseball" lives on at the Trop, in the bumbling nine who take the field as the Tampa Bay Devil Rays. Patkin moved on to the big diamond in the sky in 1999. For five decades before that, however, he entertained minor-league crowds across the U.S., including here in Pinellas County. After allegedly entering the bigs, who'd have thought we'd be laughing harder — to keep from crying — at a ballpark in St. Pete than when Max was goofing around? The joke has grown stale for all but diehard fans. The Lightning may draw better at the Ice Palace than what the Rays pulled in this summer. The guy responsible is, of course, Vince Naimoli. His Rays partners have taken a bath with the former corporate raider. But they have yet to complete a hostile takeover of the Rays and send Vince to the showers for good.
BEST STUNT WEDDING
Chad Williamson and Heather Smith
May 27
Before you can take the plunge, you have to walk the plank, right? That's just what Chad Williamson and his bride, Heather Smith, did when they got married aboard that weird-looking boat at one end of Raymond James Stadium on May 27. Despite the usual pre-nup stress of picking out tuxes, dresses, flowers, cake, swords and eye-patches, the couple still took time to put out a commemorative press release titled "Couple Exchanges Vows Buccaneer Style." Omigah! That's so, so Tampa! However, we were saddened somewhat by the lack of RSVP boxes, because we most definitely would have checked the "will not be attending, but will check it out on Storm Team 8" box. Now let's just hope they don't have a stormy marriage and rock the boat. Oh, jeez, we could go on for another hundred words. If we have any advice at all for the young love albatrosses, it's this: It's not the size of your boat; it's the motion in the ocean.
BEST WATER-SAVING LANDSCAPE
Legends Field
1 Steinbrenner Drive
Tampa 813-875-7753
The Yankees' 31-acre baseball complex is home to a landmark water conservation project jointly sponsored and administered by the Tampa Sports Authority and the Northwest Basin Board of the Southwest Florida Water Management District. The complex is built on top of an underdrain system that captures stormwater runoff from the fields, parking lots and landscaped areas, routing the stormwater to one of several retention ponds. En route, the water travels through swales designed to trap many of the worst pollutants, and as the water stands in the ponds, other pollutants sink. The water at the surface is pumped for irrigation of the fields and grounds, and except in extraordinary circumstances, all of the water used to irrigate the fields and the grounds is recycled water. Also, the plants lining the landscape are xeriscape plantings, which require very little water. Thus, the project allows for the conservation of millions of gallons of Florida groundwater over the next 30 years.
BEST COLUMNISTS
Robert Trigaux and Robyn Blumner
'St. Petersburg Times'
Not the highest profile columnists at the St. Petersburg Times, Robyn Blumner and Robert Trigaux nonetheless add measurably to the quality of information in the Tampa Bay area. Trigaux, a veteran financial reporter, is not the usual business shill. Rather, he provides intelligent and often offbeat commentary on business matters. Many of Trigaux's best columns are social commentaries, often very progressive. Blumner, a former American Civil Liberties Union official, has staked out liberty as her personal beat. She is uncompromising in defense of constitutional rights and personal freedom, and for that every citizen owes her a debt.
BEST DAILY NEWSPAPER
'St. Petersburg Times'
The Times should be better than it is, especially considering that, among all U.S. dailies, it has a unique form of ownership, an independent journalism think-tank. But that very strength is also the Times' weakness; it has evolved as a management culture obsessed with its own prestige and power. Still, compared with the rival Tampa Tribune, there's little question that the Times is a far superior newspaper, able and willing to commit great journalism.
BEST NEWSPAPER REPORTER
Jeff Testerman
'St. Petersburg Times'
Veteran investigative reporter Jeff Testerman sensed something wrong with the Seminole Tribe of Florida in 1996 and began a series of reports that have continued to expose problems within the tribe. Early in reporting, a Testerman colleague embarrassed the paper through some letters urging Seminoles to commit what were certainly unethical and possibly illegal actions; the Weekly Planet vigorously criticized the Times for the letters. But Testerman stayed with the story, and he has led every reporter in the state in uncovering unsettling news about the Seminoles.
BEST TELEVISION REPORTER
Steve Andrews
WFLA-Ch. 8
The big story last year in Tampa was the political collapse of State Attorney Harry Lee Coe and his eventual suicide. Steve Andrews drew the ire of Coe's pals, who blamed the reporter's pursuit of a story for the tragedy. Just the opposite was true. Coe's own faults caused his downfall and death. Andrews represented the best traditions of journalism, investigating corruption and misuse of power by a public official. There is poignancy in the fact that Andrews discovered Coe's body under an overpass. But that is just a reflection of the doggedness with which a top reporter sought to protect the public by tracking a disgraced politician.
BEST TELEVISION STATION
WTVT-Ch. 13
It's tough being No. 2, and Ch. 13 has been fighting from the underdog position for years. It's starting to pay off, however. The area's top station, WFLA-Ch. 8, has been diverted from what TV is best at — hard, breaking news — by its obsession with "convergence" with The Tampa Tribune. Meanwhile, Ch. 13, even without a major network affiliation, is knocking at the door of ratings leader.
BEST METEOROLOGIST
Dennis Phillips
WFTS-Ch. 28
About the only difference among the weather guys is the quality of their blow dry. However, Ch. 28's Dennis Phillips adds a touch of credibility to his report.
BEST NEWS STORY INVOLVING FRUIT
The Pineapple Man
First, a disclaimer. Murder suspect Scott Lang sounds like a seriously troubled 17-year-old, and our hearts go out to all the survivors affected by the tragedy that occurred in the May 22 shooting of Richard E. Hosking, 55. We can only imagine the anguish and heartbreak families and friends of the accused and the deceased have been going through. That said, the fact that Lang was obsessed with pineapples — yes, pineapples — as reported in the St. Petersburg Times May 24 and 25, brings to mind the DeSillers Effect. Dave Barry coined that one at least 10 years ago in a fantastic Miami Herald piece about life in Miami. A woman named Maria DeSillers first made headlines raising money for her son Ronnie's kidney transplant back in 1987. Ronnie didn't make it, though, and the public's collective heart broke the way it seems to only for suffering animals and children — after all, Ronnie was only 7 years old. End of story? No. It later came out that Mama DeSillers bought herself a fancy car and other treats using the almost three-fourths of a million bucks for herself, tainting the whole spirit-of-giving zeitgeist that had swept through like a hurricane and ensuring that it would last about as long as one. The DeSillers Effect occurs, then, when you thought you were done with a news story, but it later takes some weird twist and again rears its head. The DeSillers Effect was supposed to be exclusive to Miami, but it may be migrating north. While pineapple obsession itself is not enough to make headlines anew, it is weird enough to take attention off of the shooting death of Hosking, not to mention Lang's flight to Georgia, during which he sent e-mail talking about how he was going to drop off Hosking's car at the "Cocoa Beach Yacht Club in South Miami." Either Lang flunked geography or wanted to mislead the coppers: the yacht club didn't exist, at least not in Dade County. Try a few counties north, in Brevard. Wrote Times reporters Chris Tisch and Leon Tucker: "The e-mail was signed with the phrase, "If I had a pineapple for every time someone asked me why I'm obsessed with pineapples, I'd have about 87 pineapples.'"
BEST COVERAGE OF GOOD SAMARITAN GESTURE BY A FUGITIVE GONE TERRIBLY AWRY
Angela Moore
'St. Petersburg Times'
Alert staff writer Angela Moore reported fugitive Tony Musmian was captured when he flagged down an unmarked police car to warn the occupants they were traveling the wrong way on a one-way street. Turns out the occupants were detectives working for the Tampa Bay Fugitive Task Force who had tried to arrest Musmian earlier that day. Moore even supplied readers with this choice detail: When officers had questioned Musmian earlier, he told them his name was Jack Daniels. "The detectives suspected that he was not named after a brand of whiskey," proving once again that, as dumb as cops sometimes act, they are still smarter than your average criminal.
BEST REASON TO DOUBT JANET RENO
OK, there's Waco and a host of other gaffes (some lethal) that besmirch the former attorney general. But one that has received considerable attention in Australia, but little in America, concerns a Reno political foe in Miami, former state Sen. Joe Gersten. According to documents that came to light in Australia, where Gersten now lives, and according to a scathing report by a U.S. Congressional panel, Reno wrongfully used her power to hound Gersten into exile. As Dade State Attorney, her office and cronies in the federal government even participated in an attempted frame-up of Gersten for murder. Documents relating to the frame-up have been illegally removed from files in Miami. Long after the Dade and federal officials knew they had no case against Gersten in what appears to be another frame-up — for an alleged sex and drug orgy — they remained silent and failed to clear the politician's name. Reno told the Weekly Planet that as U.S. Attorney General she took no part in the harassment of Gersten by federal officials as he tried to establish a life in Australia. However, documents from Reno's attorney general days obtained by the Planet show her handwriting and initials micromanaging the crusade against Gersten. Meanwhile, the Miami Herald, a blood enemy of the Gersten family and a longtime ally of Reno's, has failed to give even a passing glance at the substance of the case against the former attorney general. It's no wonder Jeb Bush hopes Reno is his opponent for governor.
BEST REASON TO DOUBT THE 'ST. PETERSBURG TIMES'
The Devil Rays have been awful on the field, worse at the box office, and maybe even worse still in the front office. So it was no surprise that the team's name came up as a candidate for "contraction" — a fancy term for folding up underachieving, financially strapped teams. It apparently was a surprise to the Times. Contraction talk about the Rays had been gurgling nationally in any number of media outlets — and MLB commissioner Bud Selig had even discussed it in general terms (never dismissing the notion) — but there was one dismissive mention in one column, before the Weekly Planet cried foul ball. Could this owe in part to the Times' cozy marketing arrangement with the Rays? Would the paper that had been a powerful force in bringing big league baseball to St. Petersburg end up red-faced if the team vanished? There must've been a whole lot of rationalizing going on in the Times newsroom. "Why should we print this non-story? It'll never happen," might've been the refrain. True enough, MLB would have to clear gargantuan hurdles before simply shutting down the Tampa Bay club. Ultimately, though, didn't the Times readers have a right to know that the dissolution of the hometown team was at least being bandied about? The Times' first serious discussion of the issue came when sports columnist Gary Shelton scoffed at the whole concept, dismantling the arguments one by one. Seems like there should've been some news coverage first. The debate over contraction continues, not that Times readers hear much about it.
BEST BILLBOARD TO HAVE MIXED FEELINGS ABOUT
'It's the driver, stupid! Are you next?'
On U.S. 19 in Clearwater
If you live in Pinellas County, your blood probably begins to boil at the mere utterance of U.S. 19. The words evoke images of road rage, accidents, traffic jams and the endlessness of commercial retailers. It's a dangerous trail through a concrete jungle. But according to a billboard sponsored by Sen. Jim Sebesta, chairman of the Transportation Committee, the cause of daily mayhem on U.S. 19 can be summed up in four words: "It's the driver, stupid!" Lurking high above the blacktop, this roadside banner depicts the Grim Reaper, scythe in hand, looming above a road on which sits a U.S. 19 sign. "Are you next?" he breathes through his rotten, yellow teeth. Now, drivers are the cause of most accidents. When six Q-Tips packed into a Town Car pull out into the fast lane from the center median without bothering to wait for the other six cars already waiting in the median to go well, of course it's the driver's fault! However, the road's poorly thought-out construction and the serious lack of alternative routes play a substantial role in the daily chaos. Putting all the blame on drivers is just plain wrong, man.
BEST REASON TO READ THE SPORTS PAGES
Hubert Mizell and Tom McEwen (or the lack thereof)
After nauseating amounts of ink honoring their respective exits, Tom McEwen retired in February, followed by Hubert Mizell in May. The St. Petersburg Times feels lighter without Mizell's bombastic, preachy prose larding up its pages. On the other side of the Bay, McEwen's "Hey Tom" folksiness somehow made Tampa come off a little more provincial than it should have; ironic considering that without his sports championing, Tampa wouldn't have so much as a miniature golf course — at least to hear the Trib tell it. Wrote Frank Sargeant in February: "Tom's support for the first Tampa Super Bowl was a major factor in bringing it here. Ditto for pro football, come to think of it. And for pro baseball and so on." For chrissakes, he's a sports columnist; this was his bread and butter (in more ways than one). Was he supposed to be against these things? "I'm Tom McEwen, and I say, take your stinkin' Super Bowl to Orlando for all we care, ya bums!" On to greener passages, we say. Let's hope McEwen's absence from the sports section of the Tribune and Mizell's from the St. Pete Times will allow real live and quite good writers such as the Times' Gary Shelton and Trib's Martin Fennelly a little more breathing room.
BEST USE OF THE FIRST AMENDMENT FOR PERSONAL GAIN
Thank God for the First Amendment. Otherwise, Luke Lirot might have to buy suits off the rack and toil in obscurity that would waste his gangster-movie-star good looks. As attorney to flesh peddlers Joe Redner and Rick Melfi, owner of Taboo Tampa swingers club, Lirot gets plenty of attention, claiming violation of First Amendment rights for his clients. But Lirot's not just keeping freedom of sleaze alive while making obscene amounts of money; he also used his high profile tactics to get media coverage for the demonstrators who were arrested at a rally for George W. Bush and charged with trespassing after refusing to relinquish signs that Bush supporters didn't like. You've gotta give him some credit for that.
BEST PAIN-IN-THE-RUMP SPEED HUMP
Intersection of First Street and 25th Avenue Northeast
St. Petersburg
If you want to experience the latest in drive-by protest (non-automatic weapons category), have your city erect a speed bump by your home. Scott Huffman has been ducking the beer bottles, shielding young ears from the insults, and trying to sleep through the nocturnal horn-blaring as people hit the speed bump in his neighborhood. "There's a lot of angry guys over 60," Huffman has observed. Engineers recommend driving over the hump no faster than 15 mph. Fortunately for auto-alignment shops, few heed the advice, let alone First Street's posted speed limit of 25 mph. Neighbors doubt the hump has discouraged speeders. The city chickened out early and smoothed the jolt. A professional actor, Huffman almost seems to relish the abuse. He is puzzled why it is directed at him. There are benefits, however. Huffman phoned a complaint to a pest exterminator who had cursed at him. "The guy felt bad and gave me a great deal on a treatment," said Huffman.
This article appears in Sep 20-26, 2001.