The Reptile Show

As I type this the gates are open at the biggest and longest-running reptile show in the country. Probably, the world. The National Reptile Breeder's Expo [NRBE] has been produced by Wayne Hill since 1990.

Of course, I am in the land of beer, cheese and whitetail deer, not in the cesspool that is Daytona Beach. Don't get me wrong. I like many parts of Florida, just not the part where the show takes place. Of course, it started in Orlando, itself not exactly the crowning glory of the retirement state. I remember that first year well and I went on to exhibit there the first three years—1990-92—before going into an extended hiatus only to reemerge in 2005. I did those first shows with my old snake breeding buddy Scott Michaels, who still is operating his "Serpent City" in the Chicago suburbs. We had a great time and it certainly was the heyday of herpetoculture. Scott and I also traveled together to many of the IHS [International Herpetological Symposium] meetings, which took place in different host cities each year. Chicago, Dallas, Phoenix, Seattle, St. Louis, etc. were all part of our run. But it was the NRBE that showcased what the reptile hobby had become.

I recall Scott and I renting a white convertible Mustang to cruise about Orlando and make a trip down to the Everglades. The sporty little car seemed like such a perfect choice and certainly was a heck of a lot better than what either of us drove back home. But, as soon as we left the airport with it, we realized that we needed the top up and the air conditioning blaring to keep our boxes of baby snakes in comfort.

That first year I had a bunch of baby boas to sell and I don't remember what I spent the proceeds on. I do recall Scott buying an incredibly expensive trio of Baja Ratsnakes, then called Elaphe rosalie. I also recall a canoe trip Scott and I went on along with his friend Corey. I believe it wasn't too far outside of Orlando, but my memory fails. What I remember most is diving for big turtles like cooters and seeing three foot long alligator gar everywhere, as well as the occasional real alligator.

In the 80's and early 90s I was breeding a lot of snakes and the early NRBE was Disneyland for me. Or is it Disneyworld in Florida? I can never keep the two straight. But after those first three years I stopped attending the big show. Eventually it outgrew its Orlando home and was moved to Daytona Beach. My trips to Florida were timed at other parts of the year, especially when it was cold up north. Instead of a show full of people, I made private little sorties to places like Glades Herp [when Bill Love was still there], Tom Crutchfield's Herpetofauna and Gulf Coast Reptiles [right after Chris and Eric left Crutchfield's employ].

By 2005, I was focused more on my arachnid and lizard interests than snakes. I no longer had venomous snakes due to the state I lived in [Tennessee] and I had burned out on boids and colubrids. I sold the last of my "hot" snakes to Hank Molt and he was running the Daytona Venomous Expo in conjunction with the NRBE. He would have a separate show upstairs and, since table space was sold out in the main show, I decided to drag my wife down to Daytona if Hank had space for my "Michael Jacobi's Spider Shoppe" in his venomous expo. He did and the beater van was filled and chugged south. Unfortunately, the show within a show wasn't that successful. Only a small percentage of the NRBE attendees ventured into the upstairs venomous show, which was 18 and over only and eliminated the family element. There was a steady trickle of gawkers, but most of the people seemed to be vendors at the main show and hardly interested in buying a tarantula from me. Most of what I remember is how much my ex-wife Stephanie and I hated the motel we stayed in, its slimy Karaoake bar-restaurant, and the littered beaches and sidewalks. Then there was the Chinese Buffet visited by a large group of tarantulaphiles. A horrible dining experience in itself, made even worse by my wife's purse being stolen along with a bunch of our sales proceeds. We got the purse back empty after a few phone calls with the staff feigning an inability to speak English, followed by my forcing my way into the now closed restaurant where amazingly their English had improved. Somehow the owner ended up giving us the lost money.

And that little Chinese buffet memory is now my lasting impression of my recent NRBE experience. Bill and Bruce are at the show right now, hopefully selling a bunch of spiders, and when I spoke with Bill on the phone yesterday he said that Bruce had just brought up the story of the Chinese buffet. I hope they eat better this time.

Bring the boys back home, MJ