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What's Brewing

Yes, we survived the big G

By SUSAN THURSTON
Published February 4, 2005

Recovered from Gasparilla: one wallet with ID, insurance card and auto club card.

Still missing: one pair of favorite sunglasses.

The fallout from Gasparilla lasts long after pirates invade the city and parade down Bayshore Boulevard.

There are the dreaded but deserved physical effects - the sore feet, scratchy throats and fuzzy heads - which eventually go away.

Then there's the more permanent stuff, the memories you wish to save or erase.

THIS YEAR, I spent the day with a friend relatively new to Tampa. She had heard the horror stories about parking and peeing but was still eager to give it a try. I felt it my South Tampa duty - and honor - to show her around.

We planned to meet at my place near SoHo at 11 a.m. Miraculously, Moses must have parted the sea of cars on Kennedy. Kelly arrived ahead of schedule.

Heeding my advice, she wore comfortable, closed-toed shoes. Only fools wear sandals, I warned. You could catch a disease from the yuck on the streets.

She smartly packed water, a disposable camera and rain ponchos in case the forecasters' predictions of sun, clouds and showers came true.

The day turned out to be perfect. Warm enough to shed the jacket. Cool enough not to cause heat stroke.

I TRIED IN VAIN to explain about the pirates, the ship and their filching the keys to the city. It's kind of absurd when you try to dissect it. So I summed it up as a tradition that's been around for a gazillion years. Locals get extremely excited about it. It's what makes Tampa Tampa.

We walked for hours, taking note of the bizarre to ridiculous.

Sightings of people "sleeping" along the parade route actually outnumbered those of women baring their breasts. Gasparilla's beads for boobs reputation seems more legend than reality these days. No one really wants to see the chests of the women willing to flash.

Besides, there's no shortage of beads.

One fat guy and one hairy guy tried to bargain skin for beads. Not pretty. Another guy tried to lift Kelly's shirt. Her reaction was not pretty either.

In all, we counted six grocery carts filled with beer, including one decorated like a pirate ship. People actually plan for this. Impressive.

Every dog, and there were a bunch, wore beads. As did the babies, who were better off left at home.

Kelly's assessment of the women: lots of Courtney Love look-alikes.

A highlight was finding a Port-o-let on Packwood Avenue, which appeared like a vision at a time of great need. Some kind homeowner had set it up for weary Gasparilla goers. Clean, with toilet paper. We considered leaving a thank-you note. Nah.

We called it a night about 1 a.m. Walking home from the Hyde Park Cafe dead tired, I mumbled, "Gasparilla's definitely not for the meek."

Nope.

We never figured out what happened to the sunglasses. The wallet turned up at Mangroves bar the next day.

Thank goodness there's time to rest up for the Knight Parade.

THE LAST DROP: The Tampa Theatre was named one of the 10 great places to revel in cinematic grandeur in a recent USA Today feature. The 1926 theater shares the distinction with other movie house biggies, including Grauman's Chinese Theatre in Hollywood. And to think the theater was headed for demolition in the '70s.

Susan Thurston can be reached at 226-3394 or thurston@sptimes.com

[Last modified February 3, 2005, 10:01:08]