A real Florida native: a dubious distinction

A real Florida native: a dubious distinction

Somehow it all began with the midnight raid on Elian Gonzalez.

Since then, hanging chads in the 2000 presidential election, the secretary of state in theatrical makeup, the Schiavo case, the weeping judge in the Anna Nicole Smith case, and the Florida Democratic delegates who may not get convention seats have all contributed to Florida’s media image as the “state that brings us more crazy news than we can take a run at.”

That’s according to MSNBC commentator Keith Olbermann, who describes us as “nine hundred miles of gator taping, doctor shopping, Virgin Mary Sandwich selling, mullet eaters.” We’re also host to the nation’s dumbest criminals, like the bank robber who saved the Jacksonville police a lot of time and trouble by writing his demand note on the back of his previous arrest report.

It’s a place where network anchors love to come to be whipped about on camera by hurricane winds. It’s a place where a python explodes after trying to eat an alligator. It’s a place where Fifi and Toto, two dogs in love, can get married with no one thinking it strange.

Last year, there was the city manager in Largo, who changed his identity from Steve Stanton to Susan Stanton and seemed quite surprised that the city fired him/her. He did admit his/her wife was “upset” about his gender change surgery.

In Fort Pierce, city officials finally got tired of the topless female deckhands on a local charter boat and told the owner/operator to leave the city marina. Not to worry, he has relocated to another marina, and the publicity has been a wonderful boon to his business. I wouldn’t have raised an eyebrow if these news stories had come from California.

Obviously, the Sunshine State has now replaced the Golden State as the land of the granola people, i.e. the land of fruits, flakes and nuts. And just a few years ago, I would have said we were all rather normal here in Florida. Now, my best hope is that we won’t become so terminally weird, we have to secede from the union as a separate country.

Judging by some of our wacky laws, we may have to do just that. For example, it is illegal statewide to fish while driving across a bridge, and in Miami, it is forbidden to imitate an animal.

In Saratoga, you can’t sing while wearing a bathing suit, and in Tampa, you can’t eat cottage cheese on Sunday after 6 p.m. Florida’s men-folk may not wear strapless gowns; unmarried women may not parachute on Sunday, and pregnant pigs are not to be kept in cages. (I’m not making this up.)

Here are a few tips, so you’ll know if you’re Floridian enough to be affected by the epidemic of weirdness sweeping our state. You’re at risk if:
•You wear flip-flops to church and socks only for bowling
•You are younger than 30 but many of your friends are over 65
•You think anything under 70 degrees is chilly
•Your winter coat is made of denim
•You’ve decorated a palm tree at Christmas while wearing shorts
•You’ve given up trying to exterminate palmetto bugs and dollar weed
•You can pronounce Okeechobee, Choctawhatchee, Kissimmee, and Okahumpka
•Your second happiest day was when you bought the boat   
•You’ve had a blue roof and tape residue on your windows in the outline of an X

It seems that hardly anything flattering is ever said about us except by developers of retirement villages. George Carlin said, “I like Florida.

Everything is in the 80s. The temperature, the ages, and the IQs”
Glenn Le Grice said, “Florida is God’s waiting room.” That probably wasn’t meant as a compliment, but I’ll take it as a positive metaphor for our state.

If Florida is indeed His waiting area before eternal paradise, it’s a preview of the glory to come. The Creator gave us sugar white beaches, a gulf and an ocean, exquisite flowers, colorful birds (including pink flamingos), gentle weather, more species of butterflies than any other state, and manatees and porpoises swimming along peacefully in our emerald waters.

We have grandfather oaks with their huge arms hanging over lazy rivers and backyards enlivened by robins and squirrels. We have natural springs lined with moss-covered cypress trees and lush vegetation not seen anywhere else.

Since Frank and I sold our “sane house” in Alabama, I’ve become a renewed advocate for Floridian pride — craziness and all.
Besides, who says God’s waiting room can’t be decorated a little odd?

Mary Ready of Destin is a twice-retired English teacher and long-time area resident. Her columns are published on Saturdays.