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Florida: Your eccentric uncle

August 24, 2012

I hate Florida.*

Okay, okay, I can hear the gasps, but seriously, it’s about 680 degrees every day for the six months. Sure there’s no snow to shovel, but that benefit looks distant and far away when it’s 79 degrees and sunny in Albany, New York and it was 85 when you woke up at quarter to five to go for a run.

And then there’s the drivers. Why do people here feel the need to leave three car lengths between them and the next car at a traffic light? If they pulled up so they were in the same ZIP code as the car in front of them, then those of us waiting to go left would be able to get into the left lane and turn on this cycle of the traffic light rather than waiting another two and a half minutes for the next green arrow. And I’m not even talking about the people whose view of the road consists of whatever they can see in the little slit between the steering wheel and the dashboard.

And try, try to get a decent hard roll down here. You can’t. And the Chicago pizza vanished when Giordano’s closed. And that’s before we get into guys eating each others faces, Casey Anthony, George Zimmerman, and hanging chads.

The fact is, our state is a rich mine of kitsch (Gatorland anyone?), the cracker, the colorful (interpret this as you want), and the crazy (see the previous paragraph). Our state is a character. Just ask Carl Hiaasen. Just look at the monstrosity at the Marlins new ballpark that erupts when they hit a home run.

If we have to deal with the bad drivers, the lack of decent pizza, the wacky news, and whatever that thing is in the picture just above, we might as well take advantage of it in our writing. Many people have seen great success treating Florida like their crazy uncle who’s so much fun at family reunions.

*Please don’t take it personally, I hate Florida every year from May until mid-October.

  1. Jeff Cochran permalink
    August 24, 2012 10:16 am

    Man, are you twisted or what? Most of us hate Florida from November to April, when the real nuts roll down here. In motor homes. Pulling a Prius. In the left lane. At 45. On I-75, I-95 and I-4 (Don’t know about I-10, it’s too cold to travel up there…). And forget that crap Chicago pizza, there’s no decent New York pizza. Or bagels. Outside of Palm Beach of course, but they’re all mucked-up with lox. And yet we’re too far south for real sweet tea or good barbecue.
    Stand up for your home state, even though most of us aren’t actually from here. (I’m from Albany, NY, originally…) From Fantasy Land to Fantasy Fest, there’s no reason to leave the state for a writing topic. And when we die, we all go somewhere else to be buried anyway.

    • Chris Hamilton permalink
      August 24, 2012 8:10 pm

      I’m originally from Schenectady. And I would kill for a good Maurice’s roast beef sandwich.

      • Jeff Cochran permalink
        August 27, 2012 10:12 am

        And my vice is/was Morette’s King Steak House, though Maurice’s pastrami is a close second. 🙂

        I actually grew up in Niskayuna, worked for a few years at Grossman’s lumber on Erie Blvd, next to Morette’s.

  2. Chris Hamilton permalink
    August 27, 2012 12:27 pm

    I’d kill for a good hard roll. Mt. Pleasant bakery used to make the best.

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