Yoga is all about breathing. So take a deep one. That's it. Innnnnnhale. Now, exhhhhhhhhale.

Great. You're ready to take your first yoga class. I went to introductory "gentle yoga" at the city of Tampa's fitness and wellness center on Ballast Point.

Don't be put off by the trendiness of yoga in places like south Tampa. "It's like Hula Hoops," said one of my classmates. The ancient joy of movement has survived much and yoga will survive the ignominy of being a New Age curiosity in Hyde Park and Palma Ceia.

A dozen of us assembled in an exercise room at the rear of the newly renovated center. Shimmering Hillsborough Bay was visible out the open back door.

We paid either $3 or $4 (depending on whether we were current with our individual $10 monthly memberships at the center). That's a very fair price for almost 90 minutes with a certified yoga and rehabilitation counselor who was trained in India.

She looked like a yoga teacher, too. Her long, curly hair dropped freely to her shoulders. She was barefoot, dressed in loose pants and an embroidered top. Her lithe body moved fluidly from one hyperventilating beginner to another, softly coaching proper technique. Her tranquility and patience might be suspicious to a harried 21st Century American. But those qualities were welcomed by struggling yoga novices like myself.

My classmates and I each retrieved a cushioned floor mat and folding chair from against the wall. After some easy stretching while standing or lying on our backs, we kneeled in front of the chair and stretched some more. The teacher had us extending our arms limply across the chair seat through the opening under the backrest.

The trickiest part of yoga for me was coordinating my breathing with the cycle of each exercise. In some cases, I inhaled as I approached what seemed the most difficult exertion points. That contradicted everything trainers have told me about the right way to take in oxygen while lifting weights or engaging in other aerobic activity.

With a spacey cheerfulness, our teacher tried to make it simple for us. "What feels good is good," she instructed, as we went through our poses. "What feels lousy is bad."

I couldn't remember any personal trainer ever saying that. I liked yoga already.

For the last 10 or 15 minutes, we got down again on our mats. Some of us curled up on our sides in a fetal position. The teacher suggested that we close our eyes and focus on our breathing. Intermittently, we raised our arms in a circular motion over our heads.

The spiritual aspects of yoga were left for another day. All first-timers like myself knew was amazement at the end of the class when we realized how serene and yet energetic we felt.

The Tampa City of Recreation, Interbay Center, Ballast Point Fitness & Wellness Center is at 5212 Interbay Blvd., Tampa. Call 813-832-1207.

--Francis X. Gilpin

Yo Ho Ho!
CAPTAIN MEMO'S PIRATE CRUISE

May I be blunt? I LOVE THIS CRUISE! Captain Memo's 72-foot-long, super clean ship (a replica of Columbus' Santa Maria dubbed "Pirate's Ransom") is staffed with a crew that is certifiably insane. It packs in more fun in two hours than most people have all weekend. Boarding the ship at 10 a.m. one recent sunny Saturday, my companion and I were immediately hustled for a photo op with Capt. Dastardly Dan (pics go for $10 at the end of the cruise) before being ushered to the bar. Bar? At 10 a.m.? You betcha! It's all about fun on this pleasure cruise, and for adults that means complimentary beer, wine and soda. Woo-hoo! Chalk one up for Capt. Memo.

This being a morning jaunt, most of our dozen-or-so fellow passengers were of the family ilk, but the day was filled with activities to thrill both kids and kids at heart. Think crew members Stowaway Steve and Devious Donovan are gonna let you off that ship without a painted-on mustache or beard? Think again. Figure you'll just enjoy the view instead of getting completely doused in a water pistol fight? Yeah, right.

The same goes for the treasure hunt, the limbo, the conga line, the chicken dance Jewel Thief Julie, Wandering Juan and the rest of the motley crew don't let you rest for a second. And the guests can't get enough. You haven't lived till you've seen a bunch of adults with painted faces ducking sprays of water and doing the Electric Slide. And, according to Stowaway Steve, this was a tame afternoon. The boat can comfortably accommodate more than 100 people, and frequently does. Capt. Memo also rents out his ride for school groups, company parties and weddings (Capt. Dastardly Dan, who's wed about 500 couples, encourages them to "take the plunge" at sunset).

We did manage to hang on the second deck for a bit and, standing at the bow, wind whipping our hair and the shimmering Gulf disappearing beneath us, it was damn hard not to throw arms wide and scream, "I'm the king of the World!" (We have the pictures to prove it.) We even saw a porpoise or two, gracefully swimming back and forth in front of the Pirate's Ransom as it sliced through the water.

Back on land, as you drive home with paint smeared all over your face and your crumpled, crooked pirate hat falling off your sun-beaten head, you'll have had just about the most fun you can have on water. And, if you're like me, you'll already be making plans to attend the adult-only, evening-time "booze cruise."

Captain Memo's Pirate Cruise takes off from Clearwater Marina, 25 Causeway Blvd., Clearwater. Daytime cruises depart at 10 a.m. and 2 p.m. daily, year-round. "Champagne cruises" depart at 4:30 and 7 p.m. daily, April through August. Tickets cost $28 for adults ($30 for champagne cruises); $22 for seniors and ages 13-17; $18 for kids 12 and under. Call 727-446-2587 or visit www.captainmemo.com.

--Kelli K

Make Like Spider-Man
INDOOR CLIMBING

If you're going to take up a new sport during the summer, the availability of air conditioning has got to be one of your first considerations. The only running you want to do outdoors is from your air-conditioned house to your air-conditioned car. Yes, the emissions from all of that Freon will eventually kill us all, but so will heat stroke.

With indoor rock climbing you don't have to feel guilty about exercising in the cool indoors since Florida lacks anything resembling a real mountain.

Vertical Ventures has Tampa's only indoor climbing facility. There are other climbing walls in Tampa -- single walls that may occupy neophytes for a few minutes -- but Vertical Ventures has a hardcore setup. Walls are about 22 feet high and climbing holds stretch across the ceiling. You can also boulder, which is climbing up to 12 feet sans gear. But to hell with that. The best thing about dragging your ass up a wall using holds so small you have to hang on with a fingernail is getting to slide down the rope like a paratrooper once you get to the top.

Before you get to do the paratrooper bit you have to take a 30-minute belaying class to make sure that you don't drop your fellow climbers like water balloons from a roof when it's your turn to hold the rope. The belay device is what keeps climbers from becoming former climbers. The floor of Vertical Ventures has chopped-up tires to absorb the shock in case of a fall. But I have 20 bucks that says a 22-foot drop will be a painful jolt anyway.

VV climbs vary in skill level from the beginners wall that slopes and has stair-like holds, to straight vertical walls with holds that look like they could be slight flaws in the concrete. The walls also have little pieces of colored tape -- called "routes" or "problems" -- that more experienced climbers can use when they get bored. The point is to get from point A to point B following the specified route. With no previous climbing skills I clambered up the beginners wall like a pro and worked a problem on that same wall with nary a slip.

Next was the more advanced wall. I managed to move about a foot before I hit the floor along with my cocky attitude.

It generally takes a couple months of twice-weekly climbing before you really acquire some skills, says staffer Joshuah Keal. A one-day climbing pass costs $11.50 on weekdays and $12.50 on weekends. Buying monthly or annual passes will make it cheaper. It could be worth it, though. With your new climbing skills you could scale a bank wall and help yourself to enough loot to move someplace with real mountains.

Indoor Vertical Ventures is at 5402 Pioneer Park Blvd., Tampa (813-884-7625).

--Rochelle Renford

Real Football
WORLD CUP AT THE PUB

The world over, they play football. But it's not the same game that our Bucs play. In the earthly minority, we call it soccer.

Yet American football and that other football feature many of the same strange customs. Fans get drunk and engage in ugly stadium brawls at the game (or match), for instance.

Luckily, there are more pleasant similarities.

Both kinds of football fans like to dress up in their favorite teams' uniform jersey and, as they say in some parts of the British Isles, drop down to the pub to cheer their club on the telly.

That sounds like a lovely setting in which a dedicated American football fan could begin to learn the finer points of the other football. This summertime pursuit has the added advantage of giving you a bona fide excuse to drink beer as the sun comes up.

In case you haven't heard, this is a World Cup year. Well before NFL training camps open in July, the broadcast, cable and satellite channels will be filled with live football from the 2002 World Cup host countries of Japan and Korea. The first match is May 31 in Seoul.

But we recommend waiting until June 2, when England gets in the game, to gain full exposure to real football fans. Her Majesty's Club takes on Sweden in Saitama. Local Japanese kickoff time is 6:30 p.m. Back on Pinellas County's beaches, that would make it 4:30 a.m. at the Red Lion Restaurant & British Pub.

Doesn't matter. The Red Lion will open early and serve breakfast for World Cup fans at $10 a mouth.

The Red Lion is one of few Tampa Bay area pubs left that still show satellite feeds of the English Premier League every weekend. If you warm to World Cup, come back next year for top-notch English football.

I recently popped in at the Red Lion to spend Saturday breakfast with a respectable turnout of diehard fans of Manchester United, the Green Bay Packers of English football.

The eyes of about 20 fans, mostly expat British men, were glued to a giant screen as United hosted Middlesbrough at venerable Old Trafford. Alas, United fans saw their boys go down to a nil-one defeat at the toes of 'Boro.

Frankly, United fans aren't much for chat at 10 a.m., what with the match and the Red Lion's hearty artery-clogging fare before them. But this pub is a good place to make friends at almost any other hour, with 60 brands of beer, darts, pool and Gulf beach access almost directly across the street.

The Red Lion pub is at 1407 Gulf Blvd., Indian Rocks Beach. Call 727-596-5411 for the weekend's satellite football schedule.

--Francis X. Gilpin

Vain Attempts
POSING

(Warning: Do not attempt posing without a sense of humor.)

Whether you'd like to blend in with, be seen by, or just dress up like a segment of Tampa's social upper class, be sure to do your homework beforehand. Nothing could be more embarrassing than exposing yourself as a poser, especially among a crowd of posers. Start by learning some of the predominant lingo: Grande means "medium" in Starbuckese. Ciao means hello and goodbye -- but only say it in parting. Then teach yourself how to walk fashionably, be it the Euro-trash Italian-leather-walking-shoe shuffle or the unhappily married trust-fund daughter's lonely-as-a-cloud, where-did-I-park-my-Pathfinder wander.

The following illustrates a few more things to remember on your posing endeavors:

Posing is all about accessories. House painters accessorize with red, paint-splattered kerchiefs. Professors accessorize with light tweed jackets bearing elbow patches and cigarette burns. So too must you accessorize with a dog and cell phone when getting coffee at the Starbucks on South Howard Avenue.

Posing is all about wearing the right shoes. Car salesman that approach you on the lot size you up based on your shoes. Everyone including nuns and the blind size you up based on your shoes. Therefore you must only wear footwear advertised in Vanity Fair when shopping for footwear advertised in Vanity Fair at International Plaza.

Posing is all about keeping your shameful finances to yourself. Upon applying for a loan to, say, buy an old BMW just to say you drive a "beamer," the bank runs a credit check. When applying for a Victoria's Secret card in order to save 10 percent on a negligee set, somebody, somewhere, wearing a telephone head set, contacts your bank for a credit check. But to nurse a gin and tonic at Bacchus and smugly smoke cigarettes, there is no credit check -- just poor service, depending upon your shoes.

Remember to bring a fun-saver camera to document any pseudo-celebrity sightings during your adventures into hip society. After all, what good is posing if you don't pose for posterity? But if all this posing stuff sounds too involved, just put on a mustard-stained T-shirt and go bowling. It's Tampa, for crying out loud! (Oh, make sure your T-shirt's mustard stain is the right brand. French's is in. Grey Poupon is so last year.)

--Cooper Cruz

Get Spooked!
SPOOK HILL

It was a dark and stormy night. Black clouds, heavy and pendulous, hung in the night sky above our heads, stealing what little light the moon provided. The wind whipped and whistled a lonely moan and nary a soul could be seen as we traveled the worn road in the forgotten town of Lake Wales. The moody atmosphere leant credence to our trepidation as we approached our destination: Spook Hill. What perils awaited us on our journey? Would we reach our destination safely? Would the ghost of the Indian chief made famous by Spook Hill's legend punish us for trespassing on his land? Would our car REALLY roll up hill as if pulled by some mystical force?!

Um yes and no. But that was a nice build-up, wasn't it? With exploring Spook Hill in mind, my two companions and I thought it would indeed be nice to wait for a treacherous night to check out the famed "mystery spot." But deadline restraints and boredom weighed heavily upon us, so, with a grand and glorious sunset at our backs, we headed for Lake Wales one balmy Saturday evening.

What did we find when we arrived? Well, the road Spook Hill sits on is indeed lonely. Bordering the town's namesake lake, the road is flat before rising to become what could be considered a steep hill by Florida's standards. On the side of the road sits a wooden sign telling visitors THE LEGEND OF SPOOK HILL. Something about an Indian chief who took on a huge 'gator that terrorized the village once upon a time. The sign also suggests you approach the white line painted across the road, put your car in neutral, and allow it to roll backward.

And we won't tell you what happens next because, really, where's the fun in that? You'll just have to take the drive and see for yourself, but we can tell you this: The drive is easy and uneventful, if not pleasant. And, like a second sign near the site says, "What comes down, must go up!" Keep those words in mind as you park on the line, keep your eyes trained on the very top of the hill and prepare to be spooked.

Spook Hill is located on Wales Drive in Lake Wales. Take State Road 60 to Lake Wales, turn left on First Street, right on North Avenue and left on Wales Drive. Call the Lake Wales Chamber at 863-676-3445.

--Kelli K

Shore 'Nough!
A DAY AT THE BEACH

Doesn't the idea of a Florida summer tourist season seem ridiculous? Who comes here? South Carolinians? That's like someone from Idaho taking a January vacation in Wyoming. Summer temps in Tampa Bay stay in the mid 90s, the humidity hovers at 100 percent, and the sun feels likes it's coming through a magnifying glass. Each breeze is like a giant dog breathing on your back. Some of these tourist crazies come to endure Disney World. Around here, we can only presume they come to the beach. Last time I heard, they have beaches up north with waves and balmy climes and water that doesn't feel like it was just drained out of a bathtub.

But let's back up a bit. Maybe these southbound lunatics are on to something. Maybe Bay area beaches are beautiful beyond our comprehension. Maybe our dashes from air-conditioned houses to air-conditioned cars to air-conditioned offices are just a lot of wussiness. Perhaps we should embrace the beach as a year-round destination. Let's all make a pledge to load up the SUV and head out to Pass-a-Grille on, say, the 15th day of August. We'll meet out there, OK? It's a date.

The last time I was at the beach after Memorial Day was some time in the '80s, probably, and they had to pry my hands from the door jambs. So, in case you're out of practice too, don't forget some essentials. Most important is shoes. Thick-soled sandals are best or old sneakers. Perhaps you know the feeling of crossing the beach parking lot barefoot, high-stepping along the asphalt in some bizarre modern dance, standing on that sliver of shade from a palm tree, trying to build up the courage to dash to the next shady dot. You might as well turn back because once you reach the sand it doesn't get much better. Oh, and don't detour into a grassy area -- sandspurs are a lot worse than scorching sand.

Let's see, what else: Bring sunscreen, of course, and a trowel to apply it. Better yet, bring a beach umbrella and someone strong to shove the stake into the sand. Better yet, bring one of those beach tents and a living room set to put inside it, and a battery-powered TV, boom box and fan. Bring a cooler with plenty of cold drinks and ice to rub on your forehead.

Better yet, stay home -- or book a vacation in Maine or the barrier Islands of North Carolina. See you at Pass-a-Grille around Halloween.

If you should feel so intrepid as to head to the beach this summer, check out the Summer Guide's extensive beach directory.

--Eric Snider

An Eye on the Secondhand
THRIFTING

As most die-hards and semi-professional bargain hunters already know, the Golden Age of Thrifting is over. And while it's really funny to hear someone say "Two fifty-five? Three years ago, I coulda got this Spuds McKenzie Spring Break 1987 T-shirt for 60 cents," it's also true that those days are gone. Several Bay area thrift stores have gone under in recent years (including the late, lamented Sunshine Thrift on U.S. 19 and 22nd Avenue South in St. Pete), and those still standing have raised their prices in a ratio inversely proportionate to the availability of shit you'd actually want to buy.

So you might have to get your Dickies and work shirts at Hot Topic. That doesn't mean, however, that there's nothing cool to be found on the shelves of your local used-crap emporium; it just means that you need to update your focus and your methods.

First of all, toss out the idea that you're going to find that one piece of indescribably hip clothing that will make your life complete. It ain't gonna happen. Once you've cleared your mind of inane fashion-related objectives, you'll realize that thrift stores have all kinds of cool stuff for your apartment, rather than your torso. Vintage bar sets, dartboards bearing the face of Lenin, those cool Tiffany-style Coke glasses from Shakey's Pizza ... I scored a left-handed sand wedge for a buck. While most stores' hanger-racks quit yielding killer jackets a long time ago, their junk shelves are still loaded with the kinds of items that make your abode so much more than a place to pass out.

Secondly, be prepared to make a day of it. Get up early, hit the known spots, and then look for the unknown spots. Get off the beaten path. See if you can find that shop you drove by once in Gulfport. We all hate like hell to cross any of the Bay's bridges more than once a day, but the true bargain hunter must make sacrifices. If you're at the South Dale Mabry Sunshine Thrift, and overhear a conversation about an assortment of Jimmy'z Velcro-fastened pants at the 66th Street Salvation Army in St. Pete, are you just gonna let it slide? You better not, or some emo kid will show up at the next Orpheum show sporting your heart's truest desire.

Most of the Bay area's bigger, more well-known thrift stores, from the Salvation Army locations at 13910 N. Nebraska Ave., Tampa; 5885 66th St. N., St. Pete, to the Kidney Foundation's Tampa location (4304 S. Dale Mabry) still harbor a prize or two. But for the killer finds, one must investigate the smaller independent junk-o-ramas, like Palm Harbor's Last Chance (36500 U.S. 19 N.) or Holy Trinity (35204 U.S. 19 N.). Happy hunting.

--Scott Harrell

Hook Up With Jaws
SHARK FISHING

Sure, you could stretch out in that chaise lounge this evening, killing some mosquitoes and daiquiris while watching that bitch-goddess sun knock off for the night. Or, you could take on the ocean's most feared predator in a primal battle of brute strength, animal cunning and sheer will. The choice is yours. Should you accept nature's challenge, be advised that in hunting the hunter, as in all things, there's a wrong way and a right way to go about it. While they're both exciting, adventurous and suspenseful, one is certainly more likely to get you fined, arrested, sued, bitten or killed than the other. Then again, one is much less expensive than the other. Try and guess which one I did.

THE WRONG WAY: Find a friend with a boat, a thirst for hops and a less-than-cautious demeanor. If he doesn't ask you what you know about fishing licenses and boating procedures, don't you bring it up, either. Load beer, bait, a few blocks or buckets of chum (that's bloodied, pulped and pressed fish parts to you, pal) and fishing gear much too light for sharking onto the boat, then leave the dock about an hour before sunset. It doesn't matter where you go. It's summer, it's Florida, and you've got bloodied, pulped, and pressed fish parts. The sharks will come to you. Anchor up. Ladle that chum. Drink beer and catch blacktips in the 1- to 4-foot range until a) a Fish & Game officer cruises up and asks to see your fishing licenses; b) another boat crashes into your boat because your boat doesn't have any lights; or c) you actually hook a full-size shark. In the case of The Wrong Way, c) is often the worst thing that could possibly happen, so be careful what you wish for, keep your tiny wits about you, and for God's sake, don't try and bring that thing into the boat. Not only do they bite -- they pee.

THE RIGHT WAY: Hire an experienced guide, and do what he says. You won't have to worry about gear, licenses, or sitting around wondering why the boat 50 yards away is catching fish (yes, sharks are fish) and you're not. Some guides tolerate or even encourage moderate bevvie quaffage, but if he doesn't bring any beer along, do not make a joke about "the nearest convenience store" after a couple of hours on the water. You'll enjoy yourself, you'll catch more and bigger sharks, and you won't have to ladle your own chum.

Either way, don't be an agent of revenge. Beating juvenile sharks to death before throwing them back doesn't make you righteous, it makes you an ignorant asshole. But feel free to keep one healthy specimen for grilling -- nothing tastes quite like something that might've tasted you under different circumstances.

Several reputable fishing guides offer sharking as an option, like Capt. Paul Hajash of Clearwater's Reel Florida Adventures Fishing Charters (727-251-2623).

--Scott Harrell

The Surreal Thing
SALVADOR DALI MUSEUM

Trying to cut back on those biweekly doses of hallucinogens? Quit, even? Well, step this way for a natural trip. It's been 20 years since the Salvador Dali Museum opened, shocking the then-backward burg of St. Pete -- not because the art was particularly scandalous in the early '80s, but that a cultural institution of such cachet could actually crowd its way among the green benches.

Two decades later, it's like we take the place for granted. When was the last time you went? It's still gorgeous, stately, hip and extremely cool. A sublimely highbrow way to kill a dog day afternoon.

Dali, who was born in 1904 in Figueres, Spain, and lived till nearly 85, was one of the most provocative artists of the 20th century. A one-time member of the surrealist school, he was banished in the '30s and embarked on a highly successful career that made him one of the few visual artists to become a bona fide celebrity. He was arrogant, tempestuous, brilliant, flamboyant and a little fucked up in the head. He was also extremely smart: well schooled in Freudian psychology, subliminal images permeate his work. He was big on painting dream scenarios.

OK, OK, this is good info and all, but you're wondering: How do you really appreciate the Dali Museum? For those of you who are not art aficionados, who can't stand and stare at a painting for hours analyzing its texture, message and subtext, who often see little more than pictures in a frame, what's the secret?

This is what I wanted to find out -- how to come to the Dali and not feel like a clueless boob. I asked Peter Tush, the museum's education curator, and, well there's no easy formula. But he did give me some insights. First of all, a lot of Dali's work is fun. It's "representational," not abstract, which means it's a picture of something, or usually a lot of somethings.

Dali did a lot of "double image" paintings -- you know, the ones that change what they are (a mountain range, a face) depending on your perspective -- and you don't have to feel like a dummy just trying to figure those out. He was also a bit of a perv, and there are a number of paintings that capture some pretty nasty stuff -- not porno, really, but certainly risque. Try this: Walk up to one of the silver-haired docents and ask, "Can you point me in the direction of Dali's dirtiest shit?" For starters, check out The Font (1930).

I tried another technique. You know when art snobs talk about the inherent emotion in a painting? I picked out a large Dali piece that I found particularly alluring and stared at it for several minutes. I tried to blot out analytical thought and just let the experience wash over me. It didn't really work, but was a pretty cool sensation. I'm going to try it again. You should try it too.

The Salvador Dali Museum is at 1000 Third St. S., St. Petersburg (727-823-3767). Admission is $10 for adults, $7 for seniors, $5 for students with ID, half price on Thursdays from 5-8 p.m. Hours: 9:30 a.m.-5:30 p.m. Mon.-Sat. (till 8 p.m. Thurs.), noon-5:30 p.m. Sunday. www.salvadordalimuseum.org

--Eric Snider

Phantasm Voyage
GHOST HUNTING

It was a dark and stormy night actually, around here it's more likely to be a dark and stormy 40 minutes right around five p.m. But that doesn't mean the Bay area is without its own creepy corners. We're not exactly Salem, Mass., but ours is a region steeped in history, and where you've got history, you've got ghosts. With some free time and a little detective work, almost anyone can find something to either pique their own innate curiosity, or scare the bejesus out of someone they love.

Ever been to the Tampa Theatre? It's reported to be haunted. How about St. Pete's venerable Haslam's New and Used Book Store? Likewise. West Central Florida is rife with tales of paranormal activity, from the Ringling Brothers School of Art and Design in Sarasota to Bradenton's Curry Mansion to the Safety Harbor Spa. The X-Files may be, like, soooooo '97, but a good ghost story, especially a good local ghost story, never goes out of style. Like the one about the blond female hitchhiker who waits for a ride at the top of the Skyway on foggy nights, only to vanish right in front of the good Samaritans who pick her up. Or the one about Thomas J. Rowe: The original owner of the Don CeSar Hotel, who died in 1940, still occasionally walks the fifth-floor hallways.

Intrepid haunted house hunters will discover some tantalizing starting points in books like Joyce Elson Moore's aptly-named Haunt Hunter's Guide To Florida, and Bill Miller's poorly edited yet engaging Tampa Triangle: Dead Zone, as well as any number of sources from a local library. Can you find the two-story Old Northeast home where there's an apparition of an old woman wearing a red-flannel wrap? What about the western Pinellas County abode haunted by jealous twins? There are plenty of dots, in text and story, waiting around for various bold souls to connect.

You can spend hours poring over newspaper stories and reports, or you can spend 10 minutes on the Skyway giving yourself the creeps. Either way, uncovering some of the area's ghastly, grisly or ghostly bits of history -- and discovering where they went down -- is always a rewarding pursuit. If you're into that kind of thing. And we all are, a little bit. Aren't we?

--Scott Harrell

Batter Up!
BATTING CAGES

Batting cages are all about men hoping to awaken some latent power-hitting ability that has lain dormant beneath a half-inch of atrophied muscle until a fated day when, through some miracle, they realize a surge of untapped potential and become the latest sensation in the clean-up spot of the New York Yankees. Never mind that we have to warm up in the medium pitch cage before moving on to the fast cage; surely Derek Jeter whiffs at a few 40-mph creepers each morning.

Guys who take their hitting ambitions seriously don't want to go someplace with cages paired alongside a golf driving range or miniature golf course, where fogies and toddlers make it painfully obvious that it's not the batter's box in Yankee Stadium. Granted, at batting cages, there are always Little Leaguers learning the rudiments of batting -- how to adjust one's crotch, how to take intense practice swings loaded with purpose -- but these youths are always the first to stop and admire some bigger person who can make good solid contact with the ball, crack and line it out toward an imaginary upper deck. Summer awakens men's desires to be big league players (whatever the sport), because summer was the best playtime when we were boys. And that's really what guys are -- overgrown boys.

The Hitting Zone, 8328 N. Florida Ave., Tampa (813-931-1272). Hours are 2 to 9 p.m. Monday through Friday, 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. Saturday, and 1 to 7 p.m. Sunday. Cost: $1 per batting cage token (15 pitches), $5 for 6 tokens and $10 for 13.

The Strike Zone, 7235 W. Hillsborough Ave., Tampa (813-884-1700). Hours are 2 to 9 p.m. Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 9 p.m. Saturday, and 9 a.m. to 8 p.m. Sunday. Cost: $1 per token (12 pitches), $20 per half-hour in a private cage (as many pitches as you can swing at).

--Cooper Cruz

Medieval Rubdown
BRASS RUBBING

Mother's Day was right around the corner and I wasn't prepared. No, I'm not a natural procrastinator: The woman has 17 kids, making unique gifts almost impossible to find. I was in search of something out of the ordinary, something none of my older and infinitely more wealthy brothers and sisters could give her. So, one minute short of cutting my heart out and wrapping it in a velveteen box, I headed to Thee Museum Shoppe in Tarpon Springs.

This claustrophobic little spot on Dodecanese Boulevard has always been one of my favorite Tarpon haunts. The reasonably priced statuary and intricately carved Polish boxes appeal to the spendthrift in me. This time, however, I had a mission: I would attempt a brass rubbing for my dear ol' mum.

For those unfamiliar, brass rubbing is exactly that: rubbing a carved brass plate with wax in order to make an impression on paper. Thee Museum Shoppe has offered brass rubbing since 1976, and is quite proud that it's among only a handful of shops in the country still offering this fun and easy pastime with a history spanning nearly 10 centuries. Customers can choose from an extensive collection of replica brasses ranging in size from two inches to 30 feet, featuring religious iconography, medieval images, Florentine letters and more.

After perusing the plates, I settled on two small, 4-by-6 inch astrological images: Gemini for my mom, and Leo for my boyfriend. A friendly Museum Shoppe staff member cleared a small space behind the counter for me to work on, carefully covered the plate with white paper, and offered a bit of instruction. Having already selected gold wax (from a choice of gold, silver or bronze), I started rubbing away lightly, feeling vaguely Martha Stewart-ish and thoroughly delighted with myself as the twins that symbolize my mother's birth sign began to appear on the paper. About 10 minutes later, when the light image had reached a rich, golden hue, I was finished! A bit of matting, a nice frame, and Mother's Day was in the bag! I had succeeded in finding a unique and interesting gift for my mum, with the added gratification of creating something with my own two hands.

Thee Museum Shoppe is located at 822 Dodecanese Blvd., Tarpon Springs. Hours are 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. daily; the best time for brass rubbing is in the morning, when employees can give you their undivided. Call 727-934-6760 or visit www.museumshoppe.com.

--Kelli K

Mean on the Green
HECKLING GOLFERS

People used to say golfing was a gentleman's sport. Tell that to the Neanderthals who frequent the municipal golf course near my house. All weekend long, they drive their golf carts through the neighbors' yards, drink beer and hit balls toward people's houses at maximum velocity, screaming obscenities and throwing their toys when the little white orb goes astray. Often, the errant ball goes through a window. When that happens, they drive away as fast as possible to avoid paying for the damage. You may not be fortunate enough to live among such gentlemen. If not, surely you have neighbors you'd like to get even with. Maybe these ideas will get you started on a neighborhood campaign of your own this summer.

The first and most immediately entertaining golfer trick is to sit near the green with a packet of ketchup and wait for the next duffer. When he slices a ball in your direction, slap your head with the ketchup packet and pitch to the ground, screaming and writhing. The problem is, this little bit of fun will make authorities doubt you when that errant ball really does hit you and knock you stupid, interfering with your ability to sue the pants off the Sports Authority.

Or you could have an air horn installed in the pickup and drive around the course, blowing it loudly whenever you see someone about to tee off. It's fun to sew poison ivy seeds liberally in the roughs, where grown men in shorts will do anything to retrieve a $2 ball, including wading through plants they know nothing about. A ploy that takes guts is to "play through" by cutting in line at the tee and rolling a bowling ball down the fairway in front of a party of golfers until you reach the green. An even bolder (and probably illegal) trick is to pretend those lovely flying balls are skeet, and try to shoot them out of the air with a .38.

My favorite is simple and elegant: If you don't have a dog, borrow a friend's, preferably a very large and well-fed dog. Walk this dog on the fairway and encourage him to dump his loads on the tees and greens, where even the dumbest golfer can't ignore them.

--Susan Edwards

Fix a Wreck
POLICE AUCTIONS

Starting and finishing a good book by Labor Day is ambitious enough for some folks. But if you're not a summer loafer, how about reconditioning an automobile?

You'll need some raw material to work with. There is no better place than a police auction to find a cheap junk to bring back to life on the road.

Big police departments and sheriff's offices conduct auctions of seized motor vehicles as often as once a month. Tampa police stage theirs at an impound lot in the shadow of the city's trash incinerator on McKay Bay. Viewing starts at 8:30 a.m. First bids are 90 minutes later.

The early gawkers were a varied bunch on a spring Friday morn. Good ol' boy tow truck drivers mixed with brothers and sisters from the 'hood while carefully surveying the crushed and dented offerings. Many cars were a body shop nightmare. Windshields were smashed. Bumpers sagged. Rear ends were grossly out of alignment.

The accidents or cop seizures that brought in this crop occurred as long as three years ago. But one 1990 Nissan Maxima sported a post-9/11 "Proud to be an American" sticker on the rear bumper. Unfortunately, around front, there was a two-foot-deep triangular crease in the grill, too. "Telephone pole car," muttered one prospective bidder. His buddy observed that somebody was lucky the engine wasn't delivered into the driver's lap upon impact.

Shortly before 10 a.m., a police property custodian pulled out a bullhorn and urged bidders to register. He announced other rules. All transactions are cash only. On this Friday, he said all purchased vehicles must leave the premises -- in most cases, on the end of a hook -- by Sunday night.

At last, the action began. The first item was the day's only motorcycle. Unlike other vehicles, this 1992 hog looked as if it had yet to encounter an irresistible force stronger than a highway breeze.

The auctioneer asked for the minimum $50 opening bid. The first offer was for $200. Potential buyers rapidly drove up the price to more than $700. At $750, the ardor of all but one had waned.

"I've got 750 dollars," the auctioneer announced. "Seven-fifty oncetwiceSold for 750 dollars."

A go-cart was next. The auctioneer struggled to get $50 for it. He fared better with a hauling truck, its cargo of crap restrained only by weathered plywood panels around the flatbed. Somebody took it for more than $300.

Within an hour, the auctioneer had liquidated the entire rusty and mangled inventory for Tampa police. Bring on the bill rolls and tow trucks.

The Tampa Police Department holds auctions of vehicles and miscellaneous items on the last Friday of every month (excluding city holidays). Call 813-276-3200 for details.

--Francis X. Gilpin

Cha-Ching!
SEMINOLE INDIAN CASINO

Useful casino tip No. 1: Avoid dragging any weak-of-lung friends along with you. Or if you happen to be a sadist, bring your most asthmatic friend, who'll no doubt cough him or herself into a seizure. Nearly everyone at Seminole smokes and combined with the subdued lighting, the place resembles Tampa's own Moroccan-style opium den.

Useful casino tip No. 2: Arm yourself with a love of technology. Anyone looking to yank a few one-armed bandits or blacken their hands by scooping up dozens of dirty coins will be sorely disappointed. Seminole's all about those newfangled video gaming machines. No arms to pull, no wheels spinning 'round, no change pouring into the bucket below. Instead, a video display waits to place your bet with the touch of the screen and, at cash-out time, the machine emits a simulated "change falling" sound as it prints a voucher detailing your winnings. (On the plus side, all that touch-screen action will see you in fine form come election time.)

Useful casino tip No. 3: Bring plenty of money. Yes, that should be obvious. You are there to spend, after all; winning is simply a nice, unexpected perk. But the machines at Seminole suck your wallet dry in record time. On four separate visits, logging a total of 15 hours of gambling time, our biggest win was $25, which disappeared minutes later as we pressed our luck in a bid to win more. Sure, bells were ringing all around us as blue-haired gamblers supplemented their Social Security by winning jackpots, but our first visit alone took a certain someone in our party for a cool $400 in just under two hours.

Seminole also offers poker and Bingo, but after the humiliation of losing so much dough at the slots, we were too terrified to try our luck on those. But hell, the place was nice and frigid, and what more can you ask for on a hot summer day? The smokers among us were pleased to light up one after another without complaint, and there's a small nonsmoking room for the five or six nicotine-free gamers in the place. So what if we blow half a month's rent in one trip?

By the way, did we happen to mention we're suckers?

Seminole Indian Casino, 5223 N. Orient Road, Tampa. Poker and slots available 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Bingo starts at 10:30 a.m., 1:15, 7 and 10:30 p.m. daily, with slightly varied and additional times on weekends. Call 813-621-1302, 800-282-7016, or visit www.casino-tampa.com.

--Kelli K

Combing the Campus
USF AMUSEMENTS

Ah, my alma mater. Though it may lack the ivy-covered walls and beer-soaked reputation of FSU, USF has many activities for the adventurous (and cheap) Bay area resident when the summer doldrums hit.

Maps of the massive campus are available at the Visitor's Center, the first structure on the right upon entering USF's palm-lined front gates. Find a designated visitor's parking spot and stay there. Those Parking Services folks are hardasses, so watch out.

Start at one of USF's premier public art pieces, Solar Rotary by Nancy Holt, a massive sundial sculpture located between the Mass Communications building and Cooper Hall. On the concrete below the swirling steel structure are five circular plaques, each commemorating a significant day in the Bay area's history, and in the middle is a million-year-old piece of meteorite found in Florida. Note the days for future visits; the circular shadow of the dial encircles the plaques on the appointed time and day, an impressive feat of engineering and art combined.

Mosey through the parking lot in front of the library and through the stately Martin Luther King Plaza until you reach the Marshall Center, the heart of the USF campus. After perusing the free publications on display, head downstairs to the MC basement. Here you can listen to DJs live in the booth at WBUL, USF's student-run radio station. Got a hankering for some Man O War, the new Eels or Morrissey's rendition of "Moon River"? WBUL has it in its massive collection. Harass the DJs. They love it.

Head back upstairs to the Centre Gallery, a free student-run art space featuring the best of the USF art program. Alumni and current students are eligible to show, and since the work changes four or five times a semester, this is a good spot for repeat visits.

Out the glass side doors of the MC and down the oak-lined walk to the Fine Arts Building is the Contemporary Art Museum, the best venue for contemporary art on a Florida university campus. The CAM hosts nationally touring contemporary art shows that change frequently, as well as the annual student show. It's entirely free and open to the public. Stop by and see what the art world's up to.

A short walk from CAM to the side of the Moffitt Cancer Center is the public art piece "Sanctuary," by Elyn Zimmerman. The site's rugged rock walls and flowing water is a haven of calm for hospital patients and the public alike.

By now, you've killed a few hours on campus without accomplishing a darn thing. Congratulations. Welcome back to college.

--Quincey D. Vierling

Wanna Scrap?
JUNKYARD HOPPING

A faint odor of industrial decay and stagnant water drifts around the 10-acre lot of warehouses and scrap yard. A semi's hydraulic lift tilts up the truck's bed and a mass of tangled wire drops to the pavement. This is Tampa's Scrap All, the first recycling stop in the metallic lifetime of many a radiator, aluminum can and street sign. And it's home to a great stash of collectible and antique junk. Herb Wax is responsible for salvaging the items stored in and around a small trailer behind Scrap All's main warehouse. There you'll find goblets, old fire extinguishers, horns in various states of disrepair, cast iron tubs, fry pans and light fixtures, among other assorted stuff. As Wax explains it, the beauty behind the accumulation of cool junk is that, at $45 per ton, one of the antique cast iron printing presses sitting outside has a scrap worth of about $10. But to someone enamored with its cogs and levers or perhaps history, it may be worth considerably more. Wax is a real junk lover who dreams about hefting items and estimating their scrap worth. And he's perfectly willing to make those equally passionate a bargain on some of Scrap All's finest. This junk lover came away with a rather nifty brass pot ($2) to house a plant, or perhaps loose change.

Scrap All is at 2801 Fourth Ave., Tampa (813-247-3619). Hours are 7:30 a.m.-4:30 p.m. Monday-Friday, and 8 a.m. to noon the first Saturday of the month.

There are four huge auto parts and salvage yards within a few square miles of one another in Clearwater: Copher U-Pull-It, Big 3 Truck Salvage, Expressway Used Auto Parts and Magic Used Auto Parts. Rather convenient, especially if the car you need parts for is the one you're driving to get there. All you require to pull some parts are tools and a little know-how. I know very little, but was looking for something simple, the latch to a rear window on a Ford Ranger. Of course, most folks pulling parts are hunting bigger game -- radiators, mufflers, steering columns, etc. -- but don't let that stop you from taking advantage of the cool junk to be found.

The easiest auto parts to steal are also the easiest to find used and replace: antennas, gas tank caps, hubcaps, spare wheels and tires. And pulling slightly more complicated parts -- windshields, tail lights, fenders, hoods -- can save plenty of money when it comes to repairs, provided you or a buddy took shop class (and weren't stoned half the time). After an hour in the sun among the glaring maze of wrecks at Copher, I lost sight of my mission and became enamored with junk found in the trunks of totaled vehicles -- bibles, photographs taken at a bar, a pair of Calvin Klein heels, an arrowhead. ... Finally I came upon a bed-less '90 Ranger up on blocks. The latch was there but too worn for wear, so I kept wandering. Next stop: Big 3.

Copher U-Pull-It is at 12501 40th St. N., Clearwater (727-572-1976). Hours are 9 a.m. to 6 p.m. Monday-Sunday. Costs $1 to enter. Big 3 Truck Salvage (specializes in trucks), 3595 118th Ave. N., Clearwater (813-573-3330). Expressway Used Auto Parts, 3975 118th Ave N., Clearwater (813-572-4200). Magic Used Auto Parts (specializes in Japanese auto parts), 12290 49th St. N., Clearwater (813-573-7751).

--Cooper Cruz

Projecting Nostalgia
DRIVE-IN THEATER

In the Cineplex age, visiting a drive-in is more of a novelty than a trip down Memory Lane. There's something sordid about drive-ins to our contemporary thinking, and it's tough to imagine entire generations growing up getting their kicks at these places. Boys wore varsity letterman's jackets and stood around with one foot up on the fenders of their dads' cars. Girls giggled and wore skirts just long enough so that no one would call them easy. And everything was grainy and black and white. Well, it probably wasn't quite like it is on TV (nothing is), but you can see for yourself how it is now. Fun-Lan, the Tampa/St. Pete area's only operating drive-in, doubles as a flea market. Talk about killing the romantic air of nostalgia, but at least it makes ends meet and keeps the place around. Nowhere else in the moviegoing world but a drive-in can you effectively sneak in beverages, smoke, recline your seat, talk through the movie, neck, dry hump, screw and still find out what a couple of attractive kids did one summer while being hunted by someone who knew what they'd been up to the previous summer.

Fun-Lan Drive-in, 2302 E. Hillsborough Ave., Tampa (813-234-2311). Fun-Lan has three screens and shows movies seven nights a week. See Movie Marquee or call for schedule. Admission costs $3.50 per adult, free for kids nine and under; Thursday is Carload Nite and admission costs $3.50 per carload.

--Cooper Cruz

Get Ballsy
BOCCE BALL

What begins as a relaxing, pastoral kind of pastime -- a friendly game of Bocce Ball -- soon descends into a heated competition. The object is to roll or toss your bocce balls as close to the target ball, the pallino, as possible. Think of it as shuffleboard with eight wooden balls. You get a point for each ball closer to the pallino than your opponent's closest ball, and you can play as many rounds as you like.

It's a non-contact sport, to be sure, but don't let that stop you from trying to throw off your opponent by fake-coughing or getting in some good-natured trash talk. The predominant strategy, when skill fails, is to either knock your opponent's balls away from the pallino, or (on the last throw) to knock the pallino into the neighborhood of your balls. Given all the variables (imperfections in the court surface, you're not wearing your lucky jeans, you suck at bocce ball) one novice is as good as another. For the thrill of playing on a regulation bocce court, rather than in a backyard, check out the Fortune Bosco Bocce Courts behind the Centro Ybor parking garage, on 16th Street between Sixth and Seventh avenues. The courts are accompanied by park benches and bathrooms, and Bosco himself gets up a game every Saturday and occasionally Sunday from about 9:30 a.m. until the day heats up around noon. But the courts are open to the public and just begging to be played on. "The more the merrier," Bosco says.

Sports Authority sells bocce ball sets online for $50-$75 (visit www.thesportsauthority.com). Rules can be found online at www.ibocce.com.

--Cooper Cruz

That Other Mouse
CHUCK E. CHEESE

We know how you feel. You love the flashing lights, bustling youth and income-sucking games at places like Treasure Island Fun Center and GameWorks, but you can't help but feel like something's missing. Something like squalling infants and toddlers. Something like generic pizza. Something like a robot band led by an animatronic rodent in a bib and bowler hat, fake jaws flailing almost in time to songs of innocence and courtesy.

The hazy, lazy doldrums of summer days offer a perfect opportunity to rediscover that pioneer of anthropomorphic, kid-centric nosh spots, Chuck E. Cheese, or as it's more commonly known, Chucky Cheese. Sure, Chuck's gray body hair has lightened a bit, even chunked away in a couple of spots. But at least 60-percent of his coin-op attractions still work properly, and 15 tickets, hard-won at Skee-Ball or virtual bowling, will still net you a packet of Smarties or a couple of stickers. After almost two decades of entertaining children and vidiots of all ages, ol' Charles continues to provide mediocre diversions, irresponsible childcare and a unique opportunity to encounter humanity's lowest common denominators on a regular basis.

If you hit your local Chuck's early (some open at 9 a.m.), chances are you won't even have to knock some sniveling little whelp off the vibrating snowmobile game. But seriously, if your favorite interactive amusement is tied up, grab a pitcher of beer and a front-and-center seat for the next performance by Munch's Make Believe Band.

Returning to arcade land, don't expect to discover a late-'80s classic in the corner, awaiting your quarter and nostalgia. Mister Cheese's games tend toward the fairly recent and G-rated, or the timeless and screen-less. It's either free throws and Whack-A-Mole or The Phantom Menace. Did we mention there was beer?

So, will Chucky Cheese be everything you remember it to be? Well, that depends. Do you remember wide-eyed excitement and wish fulfillment, or detached, cynical amusement and lowered expectations? Still and all, the Other Rodent offers up a way to kill a day that's never less than interesting. In what way it's interesting is up to you, we reckon. Just don't get your adult ass jammed up in the Cheese Crawl on your way to the ball bath.

Chuck E. Cheese's still exist at several Bay Area locations, including 14308 N. Dale Mabry, Tampa (813-963-7200); 1540 W. Brandon Blvd., Brandon (813-685-2902); 1024 58th St. N., St. Petersburg (727-345-3736); and 25921 U.S. 19 N., Clearwater (727-791-3377). Reservations and private dining are available. Don't eat off other folks' tables.

--Scott Harrell

Steal the Show
SNEAK INTO MOVIES

So you wanna see two or three movies but only have enough scratch for one? Step aside, rook; Weekly Planet's crack team of stealthy cinema swindlers is, for the first time ever, prepared to share their Top Secret Two-Step Multiple Movie Strategy. Ready? Here goes:

1. Buy a ticket.

2. Don't leave.

And there you have it: All you ever need to know about the fine art of sneaking into movie theaters. Seriously, folks, unless you frequent those rare, endangered species-type movie palaces with less than a trillion screens, there ain't no way -- no how -- anyone's going to notice you traipsing from theater to theater. But even if you are spotted by some vest-wearin', eagle-eyed popcorn jockey, chances are they're not being paid enough to give a damn.

Still, a degree of precaution is always good, and to that end we'd have to say the most important thing to remember is to bring food. Yeah, yeah most of us are already decked out like walking convenience stores when enter our favorite picture palace. This is doubly important when sneaking into theaters, if only because it's hard to miss someone who's gone back for seven courses at the snack bar.

Also, for a bit of added security, sit in the middle of a large crowd if you can possibly stand the constant whispering, and keep bathroom breaks to a minimum. Timing is also important in a rousing game of big-screen hopscotch. We highly suggest checking out movie schedules and mapping out your plan of attack. Don't expect to just stroll out of one movie to find your second target starting immediately one theater over. You'll likely have to duck into a movie in progress to await the start of your next choice. And when you've finally had enough entertainment, be sure to sneak out the nearest side exit.

And finally, don't feel bad. Megaplexes have damn near pushed every mom-and-pop movie hall out of existence. And they're still royally screwing you at the concession stand! We've found crack that's cheaper than movie popcorn.

No, save your sympathy, and money, for the Tampa Theatres and Beach Theatres of the world. Anywhere else, feel free to crash.

--Kelli K

Brother, Can You Spare a Dime?
GUERRILLA BUSKING

Permits? You don' need no stinking permits. All you need is an instrument (preferably one you can play, kind of), a repertoire, some ratty clothes, a change receptacle and a bit of moxie. Chutzpah will do as well. Optional accoutrements include some sort of eyewear -- I prefer shades, but some old glasses with one cracked-or-missing lens are a nice touch -- and a weathered cardboard sign introducing you as "the amazing," "the incomparable," or "the homeless & hungry/veteran/psycho transient." That's it -- you're ready to enter the marginally profitable but monotony-obliterating world of illegal street performance.

Both Hillsborough and Pinellas County have various noise, nuisance and disturbing-the-peace statutes on the books, so, yeah, technically you'll be breaking the law. Pinellas is generally known to be more lenient regarding buskers; your chances of actually being arrested are virtually nil, barring warrants or violent episodes. Most of the time, if the cops take any interest at all, it'll be to move a particularly distracting (or untalented) performer along.

Still, a hit-and-run approach pays off. You're not actually homeless, so you can plan an assault that targets various high-traffic areas throughout the day. Go from an early-afternoon beach set to a 5 o'clock appearance outside a big corporate building downtown, and you'll still have time to entrance the strollers on St. Pete's Central Avenue just after sunset. In addition to keeping you on the go and in front of new prospective donations, such an approach also allows you to rock the same six or seven songs over and over, thus appeasing your penchant for general laziness.

Be smart. Don't cause too big a commotion, and be courteous. You can suck, and you can probably get away with being a bit of a punk, but a punk that sucks is likely to get into trouble. Don't set up within eyeshot of an official building or another busker (and stay away from the pros' haunts, like BayWalk or Centro Ybor). Don't pull your car up onto the curb with the intention of playing for 10 minutes, jumping in and speeding off. Nothing ruins a day of begging for change like having your Lexus towed. And if you do encounter the long, blue arm of the law, acquiesce immediately.

You're gonna sit at home and play that thing anyway. Why not meet some people and quite possibly make almost enough change for two tallboys while you're at it?

--Scott Harrell

Blade Runner
ICE SKATING LESSONS

The Winter Olympics are distant memories by now (except for all the flag-waving commentary and back door deals between judges). Do any of you remember thinking, like me, "I can do that." Luge? Nothing but sledding in a Speedo. And anybody with a sense of balance and a pair of inline skates can compete in the figure skating competition with a little practice, right?

Well, no. The luge would probably kill you and the figure skaters make performing look easy because they've been doing it since their parents first strapped blades to the bottom of their feet and began whipping them into Olympian shape -- somewhere around birth.

So, no medal for you.

That doesn't mean that you can't escape the oppressive summertime heat by learning to skate. At the Ice Sports Forum Brandon, a few lessons will have you on your way to doing triple flips and double sow cows in no time. Not really, but you will be able to learn cool skating moves like the forward swizzle, the backwards swizzle, the dip, and forward and backward crossovers. If you're really coordinated and don't have ankles like tree stumps, you may even be able to learn how to do a spin.

You might be tempted to skip the lessons and just spring for the much cheaper ice time (sans instructor), but after a few jerky turns around the ice and bruises the size of watermelons on your hips, you'll change your tune. The ice is refreshingly cool in comparison to the searing heat of a Tampa summer breeze, but not when your face is smashed against it.

A warning to those with a kid aversion: When school is out, the place is crawling with 'em. These future Nancy Kerrigans will streak past you like lightning, and send you sprawling if you let them get too close. If this happens, make like Tonya Harding and stick your foot out. When they cry to Mommy you can just pretend it wasn't your idea.

The Ice Sports Forum Brandon is located at 10222 Elizabeth Place. Private lessons are $30 per half-hour. Group lessons are $69 for five weeks and $129 for 10. Open skate admission is $7 and skate rental is $3. Hours for summer open skate sessions vary. For more information, call 813-684-7825.

--Rochelle Renford

Suck Face
SECLUDED MAKEOUT SPOTS

I can fondly recall reclining with a certain young lady on a private stretch of northern Clearwater Beach many years ago and sucking face like our heads had Tootsie Roll centers. I likewise remember being pushed out of a car by another young lady, out on Davis Islands near Michael O. Knight Airport, and being left with nothing but half a bottle of Mad Dog 20/20 and an unobstructed view of several parked vehicles, all rocking urgently.

We used to be able to drive parallel to the ocean, pull off down any road with a NO OUTLET sign, and quench our youthful carnal desires in relative privacy. Nowadays, however, waterfront development has whittled a once-bountiful selection of Inspiration Points down to a precious few. And there are even fewer if you're the kind of romantic whose makeout sessions are easily disturbed by lonely bums, crack dealers or nosy law enforcement officials.

Have you ever left the multiplex with a sudden yen to show your lover that secluded cul-de-sac where you first reached second base? Chances are, it's built-on, fenced-off, or home to crime-scene tape and a dozen turd-filled beer bottles (how do they DO that?). And getting some action on the third level of BayWalk's parking garage is simply not the same as spreading a towel on the hood of your car and playing "frisky hands" under the stars.

It dawns on me that the purpose of this assignment may have been to share some likely locations, but why the hell would I do that? Find your own damn hot spots. They are out there, you know -- it just takes some looking. If it's the journey that matters, what could be more seductive than a moonlit cruise down salt-scented streets, searching for an overlooked nook and some illicit fun? Finding an overlooked nook and getting to the illicit fun, that's what. Just remember, several sexual acts are still in violation of Florida statutes, so if you're really looking to get your freak on, get a room.

May we suggest: I-275 at the Bird Street underpass; Franklin Street Mall in front of Tampa Theatre; the lot behind Penny Pawn on U.S. 19 in Pinellas Park.

--Scott Harrell

Beer Tour
YUENGLING BREWING CO.

Yuengling. Is that an Asian beer? Nope. The Pennsylvania-based company makes American beer, lots of it, and has been doing so since 1829 (except during Prohibition, when they made ice cream).

The brewery itself is the old Stroh's brewery, originally built by Joseph Schlitz in 1958 and has an interesting industrial/deco charm. The tour begins in the hall of a hospitality area, where they start you off with anecdotes about the first Yuengling plant, the history of the family-owned-and-operated company, etc.

But don't worry about falling asleep. They offer you an early sample of one of the six brews they make: Yuengling Premium, Premium Light, Lord Chesterfield, Dark Brewed Porter, Traditional Lager and Original Black and Tan. You only get two sample cups, though, so use them wisely.

The tour then takes you inside the plant, to a pair of 500-barrel kettles that brew wort, a thick tea of barley water. The mash tubs are next, where 7,300-pounds of barley first meet 240 barrels of water, and for 90 minutes it steeps. Who knew there was such romance in beer making? There's technical stuff that follows, all of which just makes your bottom lip sag and your eyelids droop.

Here's the Cliffs Notes: The brewing process takes 23 days -- going from wort to fermenting to resting to filtering to cooling to bottling to pasteurizing to packaging -- then you sip and chug to your stomach's content. By the time the tour's over, you're mighty impressed with the brewmaster's handiwork, and also quite parched from all the walking. Naturally it's time to try another one of the Yuengling brews. Not quite one for the road, as you must be responsible and stay awhile. But there's really no rush to leave, is there?

Yuengling Brewing Company, 11111 N. 30th St., Tampa (813-972-8529). Tours last approximately 45 minutes and take place at 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. Monday through Friday.

--Cooper Cruz

Get Your Kicks
AEROBIC KICKBOXING

At first glance, aerobic-style kickboxing lacks the ass-kicking quality of competitive kickboxing. There's a big difference between kicking to techno music in an air-conditioned aerobics hall and donning headgear and kicking your fellow man (or woman) in a ring.

The most important difference, I've decided, is that in a ring your fellow man also gets to kick you. While I relish the thought of getting a Leila Ali-style black eye, I'm not so hot on the pain that proceeds it. So when I decided to explore summer kickboxing options it was no contest: Non-violent aerobic air kicks were the way to go.

And really, after the seventh grade do you still need to know how to kick the shit out of somebody? Unless you're reading this on the stool of a seedy bar at 10 in the morning, I don't think so. It's just too crass. You may, however, have the occasion to run from those immature enough to want to throw down or criminal enough to want to steal your wallet; thus aerobic kickboxing is certainly good preparation for that kind of endurance.

Bill Heimberger's Jhoon Rhee Institute of Karate got into the Kardio Kickboxing craze long before Billy Blanks began hawking low-quality aerobics tapes on infomercials. And unlike a video, Heimberger's has instructors present to be sure that when you throw that roundhouse kick you don't throw your back out in the process.

In the most excruciating hour of my life, I kicked, punched and gasped for air while sweat ran down my body like I was waiting outside for the HARTline in July.

This is not Jane Fonda's aerobics class.

The kicks and punches keep the exercise fun but the coordination-impaired are in for considerable confusion and embarrassment. It looks pretty easy when you're sipping a beer, eating chips and watching Blanks do his thing on the small screen. It is not.

The combinations started out slow: punch, uppercut, kick and punch. But like a game of Simon, the combinations got more elaborate and the class moved faster and eventually I was just standing with my brow furrowed in a pool of my own acrid sweat.

The instructor was supportive, though, and soon enough I was throwing kicks and punches with enough consistency to give me the best workout this side of the treadmill.

Beware: Like anything else that has achieved nationwide coolness and acquired the stench of celebrity, Heimberger's can get a bit overcrowded. Get there early, stake out a spot and start sweating.

Bill Heimberger's Jhoon Rhee Institute of Karate has two locations: 14424 N. Dale Mabry (813-961-KICK) and 10919 N. 56th St. (813-988-5425), both in Tampa. Classes are at 6:45 p.m. Monday-Thursday and 9 a.m. Saturday at the former, 6:45 p.m. Monday, Wednesday and Thursday at the latter.

--Rochelle Renford

Birdies by Starlight
NIGHT GOLF

Like to hack late?

You don't have to sneak onto a golf course to play after hours this summer. Terrace Hill Golf Club is lighted. The nocturnal illumination of the nine-hole layout feels a lot cooler than it would in an August afternoon sun.

I tried Terrace Hill on a Friday night. I hadn't picked up a golf club in 10 years and it felt like it.

I'd forgotten most of the rituals of the game, including some basics. For instance, golf requires clubs, balls and tees. Fortunately, all three were available for rent or purchase in the small pro shop. The freight was about $20, including the greens fees.

The shop attendant was cool. He paired me with Don, who walked in at about the same time and wasn't nearly as rusty on the links. Don let me ride in his cart so I wouldn't be up golfing all night.

The shop guy congratulated us on choosing Friday to play. Date-night crowds are noticeably thinner than on weeknights. Don, a nearby resident, seconded that opinion.

Terrace Hill is a real working person's golf place. This is no country club and thus there were no country-club pretensions to put up with. Fellow duffers were mostly patient. Those who weren't at least apologized if they bounced an errant Titleist a few yards behind your party in the fairway as you lined up your next shot.

For a novice, the course is ideal. The terrain is pretty flat, the hazards few. I came back to the clubhouse with the same number of balls in my bag as when I set out for the first tee. (All right, I found a ball on the same hole where I lost one in the rough.)

And yet somehow I managed to shoot almost 20 strokes over par-30. I should have taken advantage of Terrace Hill's driving range and practice green. But I was running late and afraid they would leave me in the dark as I lined up a birdie putt on one of the final holes.

Alas, the lights were still on an hour or two later when my seven-iron off the eighth tee plopped the ball a few dozen feet from the pin some 140 yards away. Naturally, I missed the birdie putt. But I carded a three, my only par of the half-round. That might be enough to revive the golf bug in me.

The Terrace Hill Golf Club is at 7740 Temple Terrace Hwy., Temple Terrace. Call 813-985-4653 or visit www.terracehillgolf.com. Nightly tee times available until 9 p.m.; lights go off at 10:30 p.m. In Pinellas County, the East Bay Executive Golf Course offers a lighted 18 holes, par 54, at 702 Country Club Drive in Largo. Call 727-581-3333.

--Francis X. Gilpin

Paddle Me
KAYAK TRIPS

The next time you catch yourself whining about the heat or humidity, try this: Lather yourself with sunscreen, get in a kayak and head out to sea. When the heat gets to be too much, just jump in the water and cool down.

Don't freak out because you don't know how to do an Eskimo Roll and flip your kayak once it overturns. This is FLORIDA. We don't have whitewater or tough rivers here. We just have fun. Lots of it.

Some people get downright serious about it. Just read Terry Tomalin's stories in the St. Petersburg Times if you want to exhaust yourself with his Herculean paddling. But if you want to join the ranks of us happy amateurs, try it our way: Paddle around and get yourself a big lunch.

The two most obvious places to rent kayaks are from concessions at Fort De Soto Park and just outside Honeymoon Island in Dunedin. Both have some fairly simple waters to maneuver and give you a choice between kayaks with cockpits and "sit on top" kayaks that leave you fully exposed.

Most kayak shops offer rentals and regularly sponsor affordable trips that take you to some of the most scenic paddling around.

If you rent your own kayak or buy one (a decent recreational kayak goes for $600-$800, but save at least $200 for a decent paddle), you are free to tie it to your roof racks, then choose your adventure of choice. There are plenty of great waterfront restaurants where you can paddle ashore and have a nice iced tea and a good time. The best place in the world for this is at the Mar Vista restaurant after a few hours of kayaking Longboat Pass, Sarasota Bay or the Gulf (if the water is calm).

Kayak rentals are available at Sail Honeymoon, 61 Causeway Blvd., Dunedin. Call 727-734-0392. Contact Canoe Outpost at Fort De Soto Park at 727-864-1991. Mar Vista Dockside Restaurant is located at 760 Broadway St., Longboat Key. Call 941-383-2391.

--Fawn Germer

Groovy Greenery
PSYCHEDELIC GARDENING

Summers in Florida are hot as Satan's underpants, and no one but the most diehard botany nerd would putter in the garden at a time of year when sane people are sprawled out in darkened sub-freezing movie theaters with a tub-o-soda and jumbo buttered popcorn. Florida's dog days kill everything but peppers, herbs, cacti and some evil fungal growths. Fortunately, these form the very foundation of the psychedelic garden, an errant subset of the ethnobotanical garden, which features plants used by various ethnic groups around the world for medicinal, culinary, religious and ceremonial purposes.

Many psychedelics are poison, causing hallucinations in lower doses, convulsions and death in higher doses, so don't play around with plants you don't understand, and don't cultivate them where children or innocent bystanders might be affected. Pick the right ones to grow and you can have a garden filled with weirdly beautiful and perfectly legal consciousness-altering weeds and posies. Pick the wrong ones and you can end up wandering in Alice's Wonderland for the rest of your life or dying a screaming, puking death.

One of the most popularly available weed seeds is salvia divinorum, or "diviner's sage," reputedly used by Mayan healers and said to produce a state of "divine inebriation." Good botanical descriptions of ethnobotanical plants, with links to readings, are available at erowid.org. Some seeds are available on the Internet at sites like www.peruvian-journey.com. But one of the most charming sources is a simple, subversive and wonderfully exotic mail-order seed catalog from Horus Botanicals (Send $2 to HCR, Rt. 82, Box 29, Salem, AR 72576).

In addition to carrying "magical" plants, Horus has an extensive collection of heirloom seeds, fruits, herbs and vegetables. These are becoming extinct as multinational agribusiness hybridizes seeds, producing sterile plants and eliminating the genetic diversity that is essential to a healthy environment. When you plant heirloom seeds, you are preserving endangered plants and keeping botanical diversity alive.

--Susan Edwards

Quality Quaffage
BAR NIGHT AT DUNEDIN BREWERY

By all means, go to Dunedin Brewery for a unique and festive Friday or Saturday night, but before you belly up to the bar, hit the restroom. If you don't have to, y'know, go, then go in and wash your hands or something. It'll set the mood. 'Cause dig this: The bathroom sinks have keg handles for faucets. If that doesn't get you in the mood for a hearty microbrew or 10, nothing will.

Owned and operated by the Bryant family of Dunedin, the brewery sits on a quaint stretch of Douglas Avenue downtown. Their main business is to make and sell ale -- about a thousand barrels (two kegs per barrel) a year, split evenly between kegs and bottles -- but the place becomes something of a cavernous local tavern on Friday and Saturday nights. Gleaming brew tanks, pipes and such are flanked by a tastefully appointed bar area. The place comes to life around 5:30 p.m., and a couple hours later it's humming. The party usually wraps up by 12:30, although the owners have been known to extend that if the mood is right.

Dunedin Brewery has five flavors brewed year round and a number of rotating seasonal brews. One of the seasonals, Leonard Croon Stout, was named after a now-defunct local band. The varieties range from Lowlands Wheat, a light (but not Lite) nectar with a golden color, to Beach Tale Brown Ale, which looks almost black in the glass but has a surprisingly smooth flavor.

Unless you're a beer snob, you probably won't know what kind type of Dunedin grog will suit you. Not to worry. The bar -- tended by oldest daughter Talia Bryant (who doubles as the brewery's sales rep) -- will set you up with samples. "When you buy a pint of beer here, I want you to enjoy it," says Candy Bryant, who co-owns the business with her husband Michael. "People may not be familiar with our beers, so we gladly allow them to sample."

On the Friday night we stopped in, Sean DeLong provided the music, accompanying himself on acoustic guitar. Sitting close by, we blurted out requests, and it didn't seem to bother him; in fact, he rather liked having the suggestions. In all, there was a loose, convivial atmosphere inside the brew-bar. Soon enough, we were chatting up folks we didn't know, slurping pints and making ourselves quite at home.

Dunedin Brewery is at 937 Douglas Ave., Dunedin. Call 727-736-0606 (brewery) or 727-734-9514 (office). Their ales are sold at finer beer outlets throughout the Bay area. Check out www.dunedinbrewery.com.

--Eric Snider

Board Meetings
KITESURFING

Looking for something visually spectacular and inherently dangerous, but also something wherein if you fall, you get wet instead of broken? Check out kitesurfing (also known as kiteboarding), a water sport that's been around for quite a while now, but has only recently begun to garner attention on Florida's West Coast. Our middling eastern waves have always sent surfers scurrying across the state; the regular seabreeze, however, has inspired a core of diehards to spend their free evenings catching big air and wowing beachside crowds at spots like Treasure Island, Picnic Island and Fort De Soto Park.

This ain't wind surfing, where the sail is attached to the board and riders must usually settle, at least in West Central Florida, for a little smooth cruising. Kitesurfing is more like a combination of wakeboarding and hang-gliding. The daring are propelled by the air instead of a boat, and get tricky off the waves instead of the wake. Riders launch a kite -- sizes vary wildly depending upon skill level and style, and can have a "wingspan" of 25 feet -- connected to a control rod by two or four lines. Due to the maneuverability of the kite and the reduced size of the board (6-7 feet), kitesurfers can get much more out of a gust than wind surfers, carving like regular surfers to gain more speed and attack a wave-face. With the experienced, the results are often unbelievable; huge wave-to-wave airs and jetty jumps are the goals.

As in water-skiing, not letting go of the control rod can be a big mistake when things get out of hand. Kites are "leashed" to riders, and designed so that when the rod is dropped, the kite is supposed to likewise take a dive; don't let go, and you might find yourself with a case of 40-mph sand-rash. Instructors and scaled-down training rigs are available and cannot be recommended enough.

On those rare days when the wind is present, but too light or uncooperative, you might want to give kite-buggying a shot. There's something galvanizing and terrifying about whispering along the beach at near-freeway speeds, propelled by nothing more than moving air currents, sheer bravado and unchecked idiocy. But again, if you get into trouble, for the love of Pete, let go of the damn thing.

The Treasure Island Sport Kite Club meets on the beach (almost directly across from Central Avenue) every Sunday afternoon. You can learn more about kitesurfing, and purchase gear, at sites such as www.kitesurfingschool.com and the locals-friendly www.kitemare.com, where you can hook up with the Bay's only certified instructor.

--Scott Harrell

Going Down
SNORKELING

Holy mackerel, did you see that big fish?

If not, you're missing the boat. Tourists save all year to partake in Florida's great underwater adventures, and you're right here to enjoy it year 'round. It's especially great on the East Coast, where you can glide down to a silent world on the floor of the wild Atlantic.

Whether you are diving over there, in one of the glorious freshwater springs in central and North Florida, or in the Gulf (visibility is so unpredictable that you might spend a lot for very little) you're going to learn that diving can be a real schlep. You have to haul your heavy gear from your garage to your car, then take your tanks from the car to the dive shop for a fill, then move them from the dive shop to the car, haul everything from the car to the boat, the boat to the car and then back to your garage again. That's the exhausting part.

Plus, diving has gotten too darned expensive. It wasn't that long ago that you could head out for a couple of offshore dives and pay just $25. Now you have to pay at least double the price.

Here's how to skip the expense and still get a glimpse of the big fish. Don a snorkel and get some fins. No schlep, and no need to file bankruptcy for a day in the wild blue. And look at your options. You can snorkel the Ichetucknee or the Rainbow River. There are dozens of freshwater springs within a few hours of here. You can head to Palm Beach or the Keys. Then again, you might just want to go offshore Venice and scour the floor of the Gulf for shark teeth.

Snorkeling is the cheaper, more relaxing version of a sport that forces you to live in the moment and appreciate the beauty we have right here.

For more info on underwater sports, visit www.florida-scuba.com and www.scubanews.com. Snorkeling gear is available at, well, darn near every dive shop on the state.

--Fawn Germer

Five Card Studs
PLAYING POKER

You may think that poker is a card game that people play for money, but invite a group of co-workers over to play and you'll find out that it's really about psychology. People who you previously thought were honest and open individuals will morph into lying, trash-talking scoundrels who'll slit your throat for a few pennies. This is what I discovered during a "friendly" game with Planet staffers.

Taylor, that sophisticated wine critic who can clearly afford to lose a few lira, started the game by asking with no sense of irony whatsoever, "Oh, you mean we're really playing for money?"

We weren't really, since the average opening bet was a penny, but you'd have thought the little bits of copper were gold bars the way the Planeteers placed their bets.

Cooper Cruz gasped every time somebody raised a bet by more than two cents and Kelli K quietly folded when she thought her hand wasn't worthy of losing a nickel.

Those who weren't misers turned out to be method actors. Susan spent the evening sucking on a cigar she said was hand-rolled by peasants in a tiny Cuban town. She looked like Castro as she called for someone to bring a bottle of wine to the table so she wouldn't have to get up to fill her glass.

Fawn Germer found that the true Discomfort Zone was at the card table with her trash-talking colleagues and spent the night sweetly imploring us to all get along.

I tend to treat poker as one big festival of lies, but after the third bluff no one believed me. I kept upping the stakes anyway, hoping to win by some miracle and make Castro stop blowing smoke in my face and calling me "creampuff."

In the end, Castro was the big winner, relieving her employees of about $1.25 they could scarcely afford (except maybe Taylor).

If you're short on summer vacation cash and need a way to scam, er, win some quick loot, poker can be the perfect way to fatten your wallet. All you need is a couple bottles of hooch, a deck of (discreetly marked) cards and friends who are willing to gamble with their paychecks. Just don't invite anyone who smokes cigars and has the power to send you into exile. They cheat.

--Rochelle Renford