DON'T Go to Florida!

Howdy y’all!

Last month I spent a week of vacation in Florida. I’ve been thinking about it ever since, but like a lot of things, I needed some time to properly digest it before I could write about it. I went by myself because after going through a medical scare I needed some quiet time to sit & stare at the beach. I also hoped to fulfill a lifelong dream of seeing manatees in the wild (as wild as manatees actually get, which as it turns out, is not very. Turns out a manatee is about as wild as my Aunt Betty at teatime).

All I have to say about going to Florida is, DON’T. It’s AWFUL there. Don’t even bother going, you wouldn’t like it! I mean sure, there’s sugary white beaches, blooming tropical flowers, exotic birds and lizards, blah blah blah. But don’t be fooled, it’s really an awful place. The sun there is way too strong; the ocean breezes & salt spray chaps your skin, and the sand wedges into every place it can in your clothes & body, and refuses to come out. There is a dizzying variety of ethnic, Southern and seafood that seduces you into eating way, way, WAY too much. The locals in the areas I saw were suspiciously relaxed; there must be some kind of medication in the sweet tea. Do I even need to mention that alligators roam freely about the state?

Even worse than alligators are the cranky retirees with nothing better to do than sit and watch their unmarked private beach walkover all day, waiting for some poor unsuspecting tourist to use it so they can yell at them. Or the special Florida flavor of Jimmy Buffet-inspired hippies, living in Hawaiian shirts and flip-flops while you are thinking about going back to your gray corporate cubicle on Monday. Then there are drunk people who think that being away from home feeling entitles them to behave like total asses, and as an extension, who will think you want to see them naked.

Worst of all is the hangover you’re left with going back home to Oklahoma--oil wells, tumbleweeds and cows? What happened to the flamingos, and the live oaks dripping with Spanish moss? But don’t take my word for it, look at my pictures on flickr & see for yourself. And if someone tells you to go to Florida, don’t fall for it. Uh-unh, no way. If you MUST, maybe go to Tampa or Miami. Certainly don’t go to the quaint little unspoiled towns around the panhandle area--and if you must, for the love of GOD please don’t tell anyone about it. Shhhhhhhhh.

Don’t go to Florida! It will only break your heart.