People here in the future (I’m not allowed to say exactly what year, but it’s the same as the number in my TempoNaut JumpCode ID) always ask me why, when given the opportunity to visit anywhere, at any time in the history of the universe, I keep coming back to Tampa Bay, Florida.
It’s kind of a tough question to answer.
I guess it’s because the real history of human culture — the nuts and bolts, the day-to-day — is carried out in places like Tampa, St. Petersburg, Clearwater. The big moments, the book moments, may transpire in huge centers of commerce, or capitals, or on the plains and sands of faraway lands. But it’s places like this where the cogs of human interaction turn — where people live and work and sleep with one another and drink and bitch and watch movies and sunsets.
The little things matter — at least as much as what we learn as embryos in our IncuPods. I just enjoy finding out what regular people were doing, reading, liking, hating.
But how do I find out what the people of any given year are doing, eating, reading, liking, hating?