Observe and report

It should come as no surprise that I’m not interested in “normal.” I like quirks.

So the little venture I’ve taken out of town this week is right up my alley.

I agreed to teach a summer creative writing workshop for 9-13-year-olds in Jacksonville, Fla. You’re shocked, I know. More about the teaching experience later.

The community center that is sponsoring the workshops offers housing at Casa Marina, a 1920s hotel. When Denile checked me in, she described the room in a grand way: ocean-view room with a queen-sized bed and separate living room. Sounds divine! I opened the door, and this is what I found:

Granny's parlor?

I told Eddie the place might be haunted. Really, though, it is cool to stay in a place so different from the average sterile business hotel. This place has character. In spades.

It fits in with the whole odd nature of Jacksonville Beach.

The Casa Marina is a historic hotel on the beach.

View of Casa Marina from the beach

Guest enjoy this view.

Jacksonville Beach

However, this is what is on one side of the hotel, just over the dunes from the beach.

Empty lot, Jacksonville Beach

Yep. An empty lot. One that has clearly been empty for a while.

And there’s this across the street from the empty lot:

Empty building, Jacksonville Beach

Don’t the owners know that this is prime real estate? Beachfront property is a finite resource.

Build it and they will come. I’m sure of that.

After all, as I found out tonight, Casa Marina is a hotspot for the AARP set on Wednesday nights.

Wednesday night at Casa Marina

Denile, my new friend at the front desk, told me the party lasts until 10. As my room overlooks the courtyard, I’ll be entertained for hours by the whoops and hollers when the band plays classics such as “Sweet Home Alabama.”

This is the kind of stuff I live for, though. If something great happens, then that’s lovely. But if something unexpected happens, that’s even better. Why? It makes a great story.