There's no vacation from the old bait-and-switch

As a consumer, I know a little bit about one of the more common examples of the marketing subterfuge generated by our country's current crop of Mad Men. After all, I've been duped on numerous occasions by store ads which promise one product but, ultimately, try to deliver another.

So, I have come to accept the old bait-and-switch as being a part of the world in which we live. Nonetheless, you would think a guy could get a break from such tactics when he goes on vacation.

Alas, such was not the case during a recent trip to Southwest Florida. I found the local Chamber of Commerce to pick up information on local attractions. While perusing the rack of brightly colored brochures, I thought of the wonders that awaited me, sights that had the potential to turn a mundane vacation odyssey into a bona fide extended Kodak moment.

Certainly, some of the literature advertised what I am either too old or too timid to consider. Then I saw a brochure with a picture of an enormous crocodile with a gaping mouth and some very intimidating choppers.

As I read the literature, I found out that this attraction had the world's largest collection of live Florida crocodiles in addition to panthers, black bears, exotic birds, alligators, and even a live otter show - which are much more entertaining than dead otter shows. I was ready to go.

On the inside flap, I saw another picture of an enormous croc with the caption, "World's largest American crocodile, Big Joe, over 1,000 pounds, 14 1/2 feet long!" As long as the beast is in a secured area, I'm all in for such a zoological wonder.

Since I knew of no such wonders back home in Lima, I decided I just had to see the otter show and the rest of the critters, especially Big Joe.

When I arrived the next morning, I was put with several other visitors, anticipating what those crazy otters had in mind and how majestic Big Joe would be stretched out to his near 15 feet.

A very knowledgeable teenage boy named Max was our guide, and he began what was a tour-long narrative of all sorts of interesting facts about the animals as we passed the exhibits. The panther was slumbering, justified by Max's explanation that these felines routinely sleep 15 hours a day. The other sights didn't exactly inspire awe, either. But I knew I always had those crazy otters and the behemoth, Big Joe, culminating the tour.

Finally, we arrived at the otter exhibit. The picture in the brochure showed an otter on the top of a slide, perched and ready for action. As I looked in the fenced-in area, I saw the slide and the water, but where was the band of otters? I spied one sleeping under a rock. I asked Max, "Where are the rest?"

He said, "The rest of what?"

"The otters."

Max replied, "There's only one, and he sleeps most of the day."

I asked, "When does he go down the slide?"

Max replied, "Never. Every now and again he'll climb up and sun himself, but I've never seen him go down."

Great show by the lone otter, huh? Well, at least I had Big Joe, or so I thought. As I stood in front of the fenced-in area, I noted the croc sunning himself appeared to be substantially short of 15 feet and nowhere near 1,000 pounds.

When I asked Max, "What gives?" He knew, I think because of our otter exchange, what I meant so he cut to the final chapter. He looked down sheepishly and explained that the animal was Joe II. Of course, my next question had to do with the whereabouts of Big Joe.

That's when Max led the group about 15 feet around the corner to a large glass exhibit of a gator which indeed looked to be the dimensions set forth in the literature.

The only problem, though, as Max explained, was Big Joe was no longer eating 100 pounds of chicken a day. He also could no longer lay claim to be the oldest living member of the park. At the age of 79 years, Big Joe expired in 2003. In 2008, he was stuffed! Caveat emptor, fellow travelers.