If I did still work for a local daily or weekly newspaper, the first story I would pitch would be a piece about the terrific Reggae Auto Repair Shop on Central Avenue around the 28th street light in St. Petersburg. No, it's not really called the Reggae Auto Repair Shop, but it could be. The building is painted in huge blocks of green, red, and yellow and reggae tunes blast from it in the early evening when the crew is cleaning up. I haven't seen the guys who work there, but I imagine they are a dread-locked bunch.
It's a bright, happy anomaly in the Grand Central District, which used to be so grass roots and colorful, but - like most of downtown St. Pete - has now become a yuppiefied strip of upscale shops and antique stores - "quaint" little shops that the Snell Isle set can stroll through dropping major dime on the same crap you find at the Metro Thrift Store a few blocks east.
Do I sound bitter? Rich folk came in and bought the Bombshell building to make it a big, fancy affair so tenants like me will never inhabit it again. Gentrification is not a new story, so let's skip it.
But, keep your eyes peeled for the great Reggae Auto Repair Shop - not in your local paper, because most editors and reporters at those don't actually leave their "cubicles" to go out and find stories. Drive down Central yourself and enjoy it before it turns into a Starbucks.
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