With all of the theme parks, resorts, and get-rich-quick schemes in central Florida, it's only natural to expect some unconventional architecture to pop out of the ground. This is, perhaps, the most unexpected piece. Standing at least 100-feet tall overlooking a lagoon along the side of U.S. 441 is a tower made of plastic Tupperware bowls. This tower can serve no other purpose than to draw attention to the ground it stands on -- the corporate headquarters of the Tupperware company. It is outfitted in pastel colors, and lest you think this is a one-time-only publicity stunt, the tower sits on a concrete base and has underground lights that illuminate it like a giant roasting flamingo at night. This is a permanent display. Permanent enough that a pair of falcons have made a nest at the top. From the side, it appears as the silhouette of yet another weary housewife dragging yet another case of perky plastic samples to yet another Tupperware party somewhere in the world hoping that if she sells enough maybe she, too, can break free of her suburban slumber and live life on her own terms. Whatever it represents, Tupperware had a $1,100,000,000.00 in sales in 1999, and needs to maintain its image as a titan of global industry worthy of the attention of Wall Street wizards and global investment funds. Thus, the Tupperware Tower, a lasting symbol of whimsy in the face of corporate America, has no home on the company's home page. Still, in the right light it is an awe-inspiring sight instilling a sense of wonder in those who see it. For example, we wonder if the door to the maintenance stairwell has a stay-fresh airtight seal.