UniRoyal Gal: Tootsie 2017 + Muffler Man: Wrench

My dude's parents recently purchased a house in Bradenton, Florida and one of the first things I did when I learned of its location was to consult Roadside America. I spend hours combing through their maps and archives, planning trips that I may or may not take, and it's the first resource I turn to when I'm traveling somewhere new. I was thrilled to discover that their house was a 15 minute drive from Tootsie the Uniroyal Gal.

Roadside America lists ten known Uniroyal Gals, although American Giants says that they've heard of 17, 12 of which are still visible today. Whichever number is correct, the fact is that there weren't many produced and they are far less common than their male counterpart, the Muffler Man. I saw my first one back in October and I was beyond excited to see another one so soon.

Tootsie, as her current owner calls her, could definitely use a paint touch-up—in fact she's so sun-bleached that she nearly blends in with the beige building behind her. The default was for the gal to sport a bikini, but International Fiberglass also made a removable shirt and skirt (Nitro Girl sports this more modest outfit). Upon closer inspection, Tootsie is actually wearing a polka-dotted bikini, and I love her high-heels and the side-tie detail on the bikini bottom.

Speaking of Muffler Men, there are several around the Tampa area and I made sure that our paths crossed with one on our way to Kissimmee. We were having the worst luck with light—everything that we stopped to photograph was back-lit, but I was still happy to meet my twelfth Muffler Man.

This Muffler Man, which stands outside of an automotive repair shop, has the distinction of being the only one I've seen so far holding a tool. I've seen them saluting, waving, pointing and holding axes, food, signs, a gem stone and a roll of carpet—but I've yet to see one actually holding a muffler.

Mold-A-Rama

I was vaguely familiar with the concept of the Mold-A-Rama machine, but I never encountered one in person until our recent trip to Florida. We stopped by the Tampa Electric Manatee Viewing Center hoping to see loads of manatees and we basically saw one—from above and far away. But they did have a gift shop, a squished penny machine and two Mold-A-Rama machines.

Mold-A-Rama is the brand name of a souvenir vending machine that makes blow-molded plastic figurines. They debuted in 1962 at the Seattle World's Fair and were found en masse at the 1964/65 New York World's Fair. Mold-A-Rama machines were basically the 3D printers of their day, and the inventor licensed the technology to Chicago’s Automatic Retailers of America (ARA). By 1971, ARA had sold the machines to independent operators and two remain today: Mold-A-Rama near Chicago and Mold-A-Matic near Tampa. According to Wikipedia, there were still 124 machines in operation across eight states as of November 2015.

The manatee machine was out of order, but a sign said that pre-made figures were available to purchase in the gift shop. The dolphin machine, however, was working and I put in two dollars and an instant obsession was born. I bought the last Mold-A-Rama manatee that the gift shop had in stock, and it's lumpy and has a hole in its face, but I was thrilled to instantly double my collection.

Fast-forward a few hours and we arrive at Gatorland in Kissimmee to find that they also have two Mold-A-Rama machines: a white alligator and a green double figure of a man wrestling an alligator (found outside of the ring where you can watch its real-life inspiration). Of course I got both, again doubling my collection which rests (for now) at four figures for a grand total of $9 (they're $2 cash, or $2.50 if you pay with a credit card).

I've been collecting floaty pens and squished pennies ever since I can remember, but the Mold-A-Rama fits seamlessly into my souvenir aesthetic—cheap, vintage and whimsical. The figurines are printed with their locations, which is a nice touch, and even though you do zero work—there isn't even a button to push—they still feel somehow personal and unique. It was fun to watch them emerge from the molds, smell their waxy scent and pluck them from the machine. Vintage marvels like the Mold-A-Rama are totally my speed—I don't need fancy graphics or technology to get a thrill—and the chance that I might get a third-degree burn from some leftover molten plastic as I impatiently grab my souvenir is more than enough excitement for me.

Orange World

We just got back from a quick trip to Florida, and the number one thing on my must-see list was Orange World. We were staying with my dude's parents in Bradenton (thank you Jo Ann and Ken!) which isn't exactly close to Orange World, but as I've said before, my love of novelty architecture knows no bounds.

Orange World, or "The Big Orange" as I've taken to calling it, is a gift shop and roadside citrus stand, and it's shaped like a huge orange. It's so big, in fact, that they say it's the World's Largest Orange—although technically it's only half of an orange. The man at the counter explained that the building was originally just circular with a flat top. Allegedly the owner was eating at the Waffle House next door and looking at the building when he had the idea to build the orange on top—after the addition was completed, business tripled overnight.

The area used to be surrounded by orange groves, but is now full of hotels and gift shops catering to the Disney overflow. Orange World is just one of several huge gift shops on Route 192 in Kissimmee, but it's definitely the most memorable.

Update: Look how cute it looks from Google Earth (who knew it had leaves and a stem!):

Cocoa Beach, Florida

Last week I went on a cruise with my mom's whole family—my first (my last?)—and our first stop was in Port Canaveral, Florida. Neither my mom or I are really adventure excursion people, so we opted for a shuttle that took us to Cocoa Beach. We're not really beach people either, but it was nice to feel warm—really warm—for the first time in a very long winter.

I was hoping that there would be more I Dream of Jeannie-related things around, but I only found a few: a street sign (that I walked nearly two miles to find), a painting on the side of the "I Dream of Yogurt" shop and a commemorative sign explaining Cocoa Beach's significance to the show.

There were a few kitschy beach shops, one with an amazing concrete (?) shark on its sign, a beautiful (to me, at least) Waffle House and what is surely the beach souvenir shop, Twombly's Seashell Tables. Unfortunately Twombly's was on the other side of a very busy divided highway and my blistered, sunburnt feet weren't too happy about me walking half a mile to the next crosswalk. Now, of course, I regret not checking it out because based on its sign alone, I'm sure it's incredible.

There really wasn't much to Cocoa Beach and it definitely wasn't a very walkable town. The Ron Jon Surf Shop is there, if you're into that, and the actual beach was as nice as any Atlantic Ocean beach I've been to, but it was indistinguishable from Coney Island or Long Beach—and not nearly as kitschy or as close.