West Palm Escape Artist Prefers Fireworks on Coffin, Bull Fights Without Blood
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Cynthia Morrison may seem a typical 50-year-old woman; she lives in West Palm Beach and for 21 years she's worked in the automotive services industry. But Morrison has an alter ego with a taste for danger. The Great Cindini, as she calls herself, has lately enjoyed a fascination with fireworks. Tomorrow afternoon in the garden of Ripley's Believe It or Not Museum in St. Augustine, Cindini will climb into a coffin, which will then be covered by 10,000 firecrackers and finally ignited. But this isn't an escape. Says Cindini: "I stay in there until the fireworks are done firing."
But if this goes well, how will she top it?
Don't worry. Cindini is always planning a new feat of derring-do. At month's end she's off to California where she'll enroll in an academy for "bloodless bull fighting."
"You go through the motions of a bull fight, but there are no swords or spears used by the matador -- it's a dance with capes," explains Cindini, who likes capes so much that last weekend in Mt. Dora she lined one with 1,000 firecrackers, then wore it while they exploded.
All bull-fighting, including the bloodless kind, is illegal in Florida. But Cindini says she's wanted to be a matador since she was a girl.
Before leaving for the bull-fighting academy, however, Cindini will flash some other talents -- fire-eating and knife-throwing, for instance -- at the city's Northwoods Street Festival, April 23.
She's also a regular performer at X-Scream Halloween in West Palm,
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