![](\"http:\/\/cyber.law.harvard.edu\/blogs\/static\/dowbrigade\/cad1.jpg\")
It
\n was nearly midnight and the Dowbrigade was roaring up the Tamiana Highway,
\n about five miles south of Punta Gorda, looking for a Florida version
\n of the Bates Motel. <\/p>\n
After booking our flights and rental car on-line, we had searched for Still, it was only for two nights, and it was our only vacation for We knew that Ft. Myers, like all American cities, must have a fringe Unlike the next higher category, the cheapo chains like Motel 6 and Our vehicle for the trip was a brand new Jeep Cherokee 4×4, a big blue It was getting late, and it was getting harder and harder to focus on Then we saw it, lying low and white in the moonlight, surrounded by The sign on the side said "Cadillac Hotel" but one over the office door The office small, well-lit and empty. Sheets and towels, pamphlets and We were attended by a young woman in a blue sari, with her hair swept Turns out the hotel was currently owned by The room itself was surprisingly adequate. A big Queen-sized covered The place was perfect. The last room was around back. facing an overgrown We stripped off our travel-saturated clothes and let the hot shower Our challenge for tomorrow: getting tickets to a sold-out preseason <\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" It was nearly midnight and the Dowbrigade was roaring up the Tamiana Highway, about five miles south of Punta Gorda, looking for a Florida version of the Bates Motel. After booking our flights and rental car on-line, we had searched … Continue reading
\n a hotel room in the Ft. Myers area, Between Orbitz, Cheaprooms.com and
\n Roomsaver<\/a>, the best
\n we could do was a Best Western at $139. Quite frankly, after having frequented
\n establishments in over 20 countries on five continents, we have never
\n paid $139 for a single hotel room. Not that we haven’t STAYED in a few,
\n but we never paid for them. <\/p>\n
\n over a year, and most of the rest of the trip we would be staying with
\n friends, so we decided to go ahead and book. We entered the dates and
\n hit return, only to get the bane of online shopping; "Not available for
\n the dates requested". Screw them, we thought, we’ll get down there and
\n take our chances.<\/p>\n
\n of scuzzy motels lying below the surface of searchable data, dumps and
\n dives which live on the edges of illicit markets in sex and controlled
\n substances, cater to anonymous travelers unwilling or incapable of making
\n reservations in advance and give out credit card information over the
\n internet. These stand-alone American institutions, never part of a chain,
\n changing owners and names more frequently than they change the sheets,
\n have been a refuge for fringe players, roustabouts and borderline derelicts
\n since the rise of our mobile society almost a century ago.<\/p>\n
\n Econolodge which dot the Interstate highway system, these sleaze-boxes
\n are found on secondary highways and depressed urban neighborhoods, squeezed
\n between Check Cashing storefronts, 24-hour bail bondsmen and tattoo
\n emporiums. Which was why we were flying up the Tamiani Trail, which was
\n the main North-South highway down the spine of Florida before the inauguration
\n of Interstate 75 during the Eisenhower administration.<\/p>\n
\n brute of a car which had us thinking about forgetting the highway altogether
\n and cutting our straight across the Everglades toward our next designation
\n in Rat Mouth, on the other side of the state. Actually, we had reserved
\n a mid-sized sedan; we had been awarded The Blue Beast by Dollar Rent-a-Car
\n either due to a clerical error or the
\n fact
\n that
\n when
\n we arrived
\n late
\n Tuesday
\n night
\n it was the last vehicle in the lot. <\/p>\n![](\"http:\/\/cyber.law.harvard.edu\/blogs\/static\/dowbrigade\/caddymotel.jpg\")
It
\n was cherry, with less than 1900 miles on the odometer, the manual still
\n wrapped in cellophane in the GP and the new-car smell still wafting
\n through the vehicle’s circulatory system. The interior was pristine,
\n at least until we dropped a Chinese barbequed spare rib from the Pu Pu
\n Platter we picked up on our way out of town, on the front seat upholstery.<\/p>\n
\n the white stripe snaking down the highway. We decided that we would press
\n on to Punta Gorda, and if we still hadn’t found anything we would turn
\n around and go back to the Wal-Mart parking lot we had seen half an hour
\n earlier, and camp out in the back seat of the Jeep until dawn.<\/p>\n
\n apparently abandoned cars, discarded tires, a disintegrating jungle
\n gym and overgrown weed fields. Next door was Big Al’s Gun and Pawn Shop,
\n shut down for the night. Jerked out of our reverie, we swerved to the
\n left of the empty highway and fishtailed
\n into
\n the gravel-packed
\n driveway of the motel.<\/p>\n
\n said "American Motel". A recent change of name is a good sign, when looking
\n for a comfortable dive with a lot of leeway and very little memory.<\/p>\n
\n magazines, door latches and locks, bags and boxes were scattered on the
\n floor and piled on the unmatched collection of cheap folding chairs.
\n There was a service window to the right of the door, which was locked.
\n We rang, and were buzzed in.<\/p>\n
\n under a matching silk scarf who informed us that there was a single room
\n left, at $80 bucks a night. We asked to see it and said that if it was
\n decent we’d take it. <\/p>\n
\n a family of Hindus. During the fifteen minutes it took us to register
\n we met three sisters of the girl who was waiting on us, her parents (who
\n seemed to speak no English not know how to smile) an ancient grandmother
\n who walked with difficulty and a cane, and two young nephews who darted
\n out periodically to check the Coke machine for uncollected change. They
\n all seemed to live in a small room behind the office.<\/p>\n
\n by a polyester spread. A no-brand TV against the wall with the remote
\n on the bedside table. A small refrigerator and microwave in the corner.
\n A cracked and creaking A\/C unit under the uncovered window. No obvious
\n vermin or bodily fluids in sight. We took it on the spot<\/p>\n
\n yard backing up on a trailer park and some cheap clapboard houses that
\n looked as if they had been abandoned in mid-construction. There were
\n two molded white plastic chairs set up outside or room. It was the kind
\n of place one could feel comfortable sitting in your underwear, smoking
\n a joint and drinking a beer. Just what we’d been looking for.<\/p>\n
\n water sluice over our tired body. Our faith in the rancid underbelly
\n of modern American life was reaffirmed. As we leaned back in the
\n white
\n plastic chair and let our mind wander, we were reminded of innumerable
\n other memorable dives from our past. The University Motel in East
\n LA, where we holed up for an entire 5-day academic conference, skipping
\n every session except those where we were expected to present. The
\n Yenny, an ersatz whore house on the waterfront in Guayaqul, where for
\n years we were a regular guest and where we even took our pregnant first
\n wife when she developed some gynecological health problems and we had
\n no access to conventional medical resources. But those were different
\n times, and stories for a different posting.<\/p>\n
\n rematch of last October’s World Series – Red Sox vs. Cardinals. Stay
\n tuned for the report.<\/p>\n