#A-TO-Z-CHALLENGE 2020 – LETTER “A” ALLIE

Letter “A” is for “Allie”. Short for Allie Cat; a tuxedo rescue, we acquired at two months. My kitten Allie, aka “Kitten McGrabbyPaws” is something else. She's going to be one year old on the 29^th of this month, and she's not the tiny kitten she was when we first brought her home, but she's the squirmiest, grabbiest kitten I've ever had. She's really the sweetest thing on earth, but not the brightest cat around. But that's okay. She knows what she needs to know to be a cat. She does try to be a person, on occasion however and this is when she's at her funniest.

Here is Allie being a ham, telling me I'm doing it wrong. Check out the fur on her hind feet. All the kittens have this fur, which we have dubbed the "tragedy of cat wool" for some idiotic reason.

It's generally when I'm trying to fold clothes, or walking across the floor. When I'm folding clothes, she'll stand up on her hind legs and try to grab at the clothes. She mirrors my actions and it looks hysterical. I really need to get my fiancé to film this, because it does look so ridiculous. She waves those little paws around like they're little hands. She also tries to “hold” my hand when we're walking side-by-side and she'll try to get up on her hind legs. With very little success, I might add.

I fail to see how anyone could be comfortable sleeping in this position, but she does this on the regular. Help. My cat is broken.

All in all, she's a happy creature and she's not that demanding for a cat. We have a hard time finding treats that she'll like. The others will pile into whatever fishy, stinky thing we find for them, but not Allie. She does try to bury her food, though. I thought this was odd, until I looked it up and some cats do have this atavistic trait of trying to bury their food; it's left over from before their domestication, when they had to kill to eat and they would cover the part of the kill they didn't eat for a snack later. Our cats all have their quirks and I'll be telling you about some of the secret things I've found out about cats as we go through our #a-to-z-challenge! I hope everyone is having fun and staying safe!

She has the most bewitching eyes and she looks right at you! <3

#A-TO-Z-CHALLENGE 2019 - LETTER "A" - AVENUE

This challenge is going to be very different than other challenges that I've participated in, in years past. This year, I am going on a trip of remembrance of my time living here on Nebraska Avenue, thus I'm starting with "A" for Avenue. I'm going to be leaving here and leaving Florida shortly for a new start with a wonderful man and we are going to make a life together in another state. More about that later. I certainly wasn't looking for it, nor was he, I wager, so when it came, we were both bowled over. 

Anyway, "Homeless Chronicles in Tampa" will cease to be, and something else will appear in place. But, on to the "Avenue". Nebraska Avenue is one of the most vibrant, colorful and dangerous places I've ever experienced. I was reminded of this the other day, as some numbskull was tearing up and down the Avenue, belting out his Reggaetone; it was full of life, beautiful, loud, sensual, and annoying all at once. The beat was infectious and I couldn't stop tapping my toe to it, even as I was very glad that this guy wasn't my neighbor.

This 'hood has been like that, since I've been here in 2010, only it's become more so over the years. Chaos pretty much rules here and for those denizens who learn to survive, you either learn to stare it down, or it will eat you alive. I chose to thrive in the environment, and revel in the crazy. I was fortunate enough to experience the "Sharpie Lady", who decided in a fit of DIY that a red and black sharpie were the perfect make-up tools. I survived the two fools who decided in an opportunistic mood, when my door blew open, while I was asleep three Marches ago, to come parading into my house and try to disturb my slumber, that this was a wise move. They lived to regret that move. A stun gun was then in my future. 

But, with all of that, there's the grizzled man on the bus who held a potted flowered plant, gently in his bear-like hands and when we all ooh-ed and aah-ed over it, he said simply "I was just feeling a little blah, today." We all murmured in sympathy; who hasn't been there and we all felt grateful for him having shared his flower with us. 

That's the thing about this place, the lows are really low, but the highs and the good things when they come by are amazing and those are the things I will miss about this stupid, crazy place, most of all. So, this is the first of a good-bye and a love letter to Nebraska Avenue. You've been a great lot of fun!

#ATOZCHALLENGE 2017 LETTER "A" - THE AVENUE, AS IN NEBRASKA

If this sounds a bit familiar, it's because it is. An area so rich in history and characters, deserves to be written about; preferably as much as possible, because there's so much going on here, the overall feel of the place changes from day-to-day, while underneath, it really remains the same, because the human condition and the basic human response to poverty, disease, disaster and hunger doesn't change much. That's not to say that there's nothing humorous going on here. There's plenty of rich humor to be mined here, and it helps to have a good sense of humor, if nothing else, because it can get strange out here on the streets, and along with the humor, you have to have some smarts to survive.

Less than 2 blocks from my house. Too bad we can't see the "Checkers of the Damned".

I'm here to observe and occasionally, to make sure the bad guys don't always win, and also because I can't really afford to move anywhere else. I have the perfect disguise and can stand right out there in public and watch things happen, and no one ever suspects that I know what's going on. But that's a story for another day, and this is just for the A-to-Z Challenge; more fun little stories, some factual, and some totally 100% “fact-free”. I'll be sure and let you know when I'm posting “fake news” as is the current parlance, like last year's “Hysterical Buildings” and the “Community Garden”. Also, this year, I'm collaborating with my “pretend adopted son” Alex, who does go out and about, much more than I do, because unlike me, he doesn't get into fist-fights with the locals.

courtesy of:theouthousers.com  

And yes, gangstas please. Feel free to drive by and share your crappy music with the 'hood, any old time, day or night. I particularly like that one tune that goes, BOOM. . . BOOM, BOOM-BOOM! YO-YO! BOOM. . . BOOM, BOOM-BOOM! YO-YO! eleventy-billion times in a row and does nothing else, especially through your shitty woofers that broke the day after you installed them and blasted them out of existence! Nothing sounds finer!               

We are going to be sprinkling in stories of some of the “local celebrities” of the neighborhood; people who have lived on the streets around here for so long and survived, that they're legends. Alex has a list of questions to ask, and we'll be telling their stories about why they're living on the street and why they prefer it to living in a more “scheduled” manner. These mavericks don't necessarily get Social Security, or food stamps, nor are they always drug addicts or drunks. They just don't want to be part of the system and we're curious as to why. We've already got a few interviews under our belts. Not all of them wants their pictures taken, so it's possible, they're on the lam. Who knows, and Alex doesn't pry.

courtesy:independent.co.uk                                                

I always imagine Alex being something like this, but this is the farthest thing from the truth. This picture actually links back to an article that the UK Independent ran about a guy who was feeding all this sleaze to Fleet Street, yet it was made up of whole cloth. Alex is scrupulous as to detail, and he and I work closely together. He's also from the D.R. (Dominican Republic) and is about 6' 4" tall and can be intimidating.

I'm not going on vacation this April, and won't be traveling again until summer, so I'm looking forward to finishing this and have started writing posts ahead of time; something I've hardly ever done before, but I'm excited about this project for another, secret reason. Anyway, happy A-to-Z'ing everyone! I hope you enjoy this trip down and around Nebraska Avenue!

#A-TO-Z CHALLENGE 2016 LETTER "A"

“A” is for Avenue and not the Madison kind. That kind denotes swankiness, and at the very least, some kind of thought or regard, or tip-of-the-hat to say, “John Madison” and this is not the same at all. This is regarding Nebraska Avenue, running right spang along the eastern side I-275 and parallel to Florida Avenue, which is on the western side of I-275, which runs north-south, in Tampa Florida, of all places. The only tip-of-the-hat to ANYTHING is the name of 21^st Avenue, which beyond all reason is named “Floribraska” Avenue. Why? 'Cause Nebraska Avenue. That's the ONLY answer that makes any sense around here.

courtesy:www.tampa-rv-camp-nebraska.com

Camp Nebraska is still open for business and is a local place for people to camp and visit nearby attractions, like Busch Gardens, our beautiful beaches and Disney World. I couldn't find any information on the history, but it's still open and running. It's probably one of the oldest businesses along Nebraska Avenue. 

Well, not really. Some settlers in the 1870s from Nebraska settled along this route, which has historically been the way most people have traveled to get from the frozen tundra of the north to, well here. I, myself traveled I-75 from Michigan to Florida, which becomes I-275 and runs concurrent with business 41, which is, you guessed it, Nebraska Avenue. Further south, it becomes the Tamiami Trail, which wends its way along the byways of Sarasota, Venice and Ft. Myers, Florida. From there, you have the option of taking Alligator Alley due east across the state to West Palm Beach, or just continuing south-southeast past Naples, all the way across the bottom of the state to Coral Gables.

courtesty:www.tampabay.com

A murder investigation on Nebraska Avenue. These are actually atypical. Most crime involves burglar, petit theft and assault and battery. I have had friends shot though, mainly because they were in places they had no business being. There is a "small town" quality to Nebraska Ave. and several networks of communication between various groups, so that we know where we should or shouldn't be. Of course, there are those, who are out looking to make a buck, either with selling drugs, or themselves. They're a surprisingly wily and healthy lot.

But, Nebraska Avenue is different because it has had the reputation as a hard-living area. The merchants who did settle here, named their businesses after their old home state, and attempts to change the name of the Avenue have been met with stiff opposition, my voice among them. “Nebraska Tires” would seem odd on “Pedro Menéndez de Avilés Avenue”. The idea of a name-change created a firestorm for other reasons as well. Ole Pedro was a 16^th century governor in St. Augustine, Florida. Pedro was responsible for the genocide of French Protestants, so, even though the words “Nebraska Avenue” may connote drug use and 'hos, we aren't quite up to practicing genocide here. Yet.

Not to mention the fact that it would cost thousands of dollars to change ALL of the street signs from “Nebraska Ave.” to “Pedro Menéndez de Avilés Ave.”, so nothing has been heard about this little name change since 2013. On top of that, we'd have to change the conundrum of “Floribraska Ave.” to “Floridro Menéndez de Avilés Ave.”? Not that “Floribraska Ave.” is any prize and I'm really perplexed at the decision to name what is really 21^st Avenue to “Floribraska Ave.” just because it intersects “Florida Ave.” on one side of I-275 and “Nebraska Ave.” on this, the eastern side of I-275.

courtesly:www.google.maps

The first time I saw "Floribraska Ave." on the street sign, I thought it was some kind of mistake. Why on earth anyone thought 21st Ave. needed to be named "Floribraska Ave." just because it was connected to both "Florida" and "Nebraska" Aves. is really beyond any logical comprehension or conclusion I can reach. There are no other streets in Tampa named thusly. Someone in Civil Engineering must have gone on a drunken tear one Friday afternoon, before the naming of street names became something the City Council got it's weasel claws into. 

Just think if settlers from other states had claimed the rights to “Nebraska Ave.”, like say Kansas. “Florisas Ave.” sounds like Sasparilla, or Sarsparilla; something you might sip on of a lazy afternoon, when the bullets have died down. But, I think everyone around here drinks brake fluid, so that's just a southern conceit of mine. Or, say, Texas. “Florixas Ave.” would most likely have people thinking it's Christmas all the time. The combinations are endless and like the “Blips” would undoubtedly sprout its own unique culture, that is already somewhat slightly worse than Cass Corridor in Detroit, but not as deadly as south Bawlmer as depicted in “The Wire”.

courtesy:cltampa.com

This picture was the lead-in to an article "How to Confuse a Hooker" and it was regarding the name change of "Nebraska Ave." to “Pedro Menéndez de Avilés Avenue”. I highly doubt this would work. What mostly happens, is the police chase all the hookers north for a while, and prostitution dies down for a while on South Nebraska. Then, some irate businesses get on the police up on north Nebraska, and the cops go harass the hookers up there for a while. Then, the hookers all run down here, to the southern part of Nebraska. This has been going on for years.

When I lived in the homeless shelter, I spent several evenings being highly entertained by the TPD, as they ran a “sting” near our shelter. We were all sitting on the front porch, the best place to view all the action that goes on at night, right there on the Avenue. At first, we could not figure out, why these two dewds in a huge, lemon of a black Lincoln Continental were backing into our driveway and then pulling out. They did this several times. Me, being about the least street-savvy person (or giving the best impression of one) was yukking it up about what a couple of dim-bulbs these two idiots were. Were they lost?

courtesly:www.google.maps

I lived in the green house next to the white house, when I was homeless. The white house was a notorious whore house way back in the days of Teddy Roosevelt and up into the 30s and 40s, I believe. It is a historical monument, and is part of V. M. Ybor, which is part of Ybor City, famous for its hand-rolled cigars. Now, the white house is respectable, and I can see it from where I live; my "pretend-adopted son" Alex lives there. We're each other's family.

When I lived in the homeless shelter, I spent several evenings being highly entertained by the TPD, as they ran a “sting” near our shelter. We were all sitting on the front porch, the best place to view all the action that goes on at night, right there on the Avenue. At first, we could not figure out, why these two dewds in a huge, lemon of a black Lincoln Continental were backing into our driveway and then pulling out. They did this several times. Me, being about the least street-savvy person (or giving the best impression of one) was yukking it up about what a couple of dim-bulbs these two idiots were. Were they lost?

Across the street, this woman, dressed as if she were about to head into the office and take a meeting was strolling back and forth between the “La Ideal Market” and the Laundromat. No one stopped to talk to her. She strolled back and forth; back and forth, while the dewds backed into our driveway, pulled out, went around the block and repeated the backing into the driveway and, so forth. What we were seeing was the world's most incompetent sting, I believe. I think they picked up one guy, and then they all left. But seriously, TPD, if you're gonna run a hooker “sting”, you need to make your bait look like a hooker, not a CEO. So, that was a fun two hours.

A little while later, 4 guys came up to us, carrying a 40-foot ladder, that they had probably just stolen. They wanted to know if we wanted to buy the ladder for 40 dollars. We all looked at one another. Did we look like we needed a ladder at 11 p.m.? I didn't think so. We sent them on their way. This is as bad as the time my shelter friend Holly's boyfriend asked her if she had a hacksaw in her purse. His name was Ray-Ray; a miscreant's name if ever. More about them, later. Nebraska Avenue is where reality has gone completely out the window and you never know what's around the corner.

courtesy:www.tbo.com

Nebraska Avenue today. This is a mixed-zoning area, which makes it impossible to try and police. Businesses sit cheek-by-jowl with residences and empty lots. The opportunity is here to make lots and lots of money; both legally and illegally. Because it is a "main drag" police have nabbed such luminaries here as Daryl Strawberry, the baseball player and many politicians and other athletes, looking to score drugs and/or hookers. I'm pretty sure you can get anything here, including heavy and illegal military weaponry. 

I'll talk a bit more about that and our own “opportunity zones”, regarding the hookers, that were also a part of that show, later on in the Challenge, But, for now, just revel in the naming of streets and how they do or do not come about, here. 'Cause Nebraska Avenue!