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Sunday, July 18, 2010

T-De Leon Discovers Florida, or See If the National Guard Will Pick Up Chips, Too

I flew out Friday night and returned home Sunday afternoon, a quick trip down south to see how T was doing.

He's doing very well, thank you, having gone from being a short muscular white man to a short muscular dark brown man.

Oh, and one other thing: now that he has discovered Florida, he wants it closed to tourists.

"Look at these," he says, shaking a child's plastic bucket at me. "They leave their stuff on the beach when they go home, certain that someone else will use them, I suppose, when really all that happens is that it gets sucked out by the tide."

He's got a point, of course.

T now lives on an island, far from the icy climes of the Great State of Minnesota, in an area defined almost entirely by banking institutions, all-you-can-eat buffets and medical facilities.

And the ocean. We spent a lot of time in it, bouncing blithely and limiting our saltwater intake to only those waves that hit us in the face.

It's an incredible thing to live on a strip of land that is a block or so from the ocean on the one side and four to five blocks from the ocean on the other and it suits T just fine.

Me, I don't trust it.

The signs posted along Gulf Drive are clearly marked: it is a hurricane evacuation route, one lane in each direction.

That's one lane in each direction, two bridges.

For cryin' out loud.

I told him if a hurricane hits that he should forget the car, stuff the two cats in a carrier and run, that he'd stand a better chance of actually getting off the island hoofing it than sitting in the inevitable traffic jam/fist fight that will occur before, during, and after the hurricane hits.

He pointed out to me that I am prone to death by freezing.

I pointed out to him that I am still a stranger to storm surges, objects delivered through living room walls via 200 MPH winds, and waiting for the National Guard to deliver emergency cat food.

It's nice to see that our relationship has not changed.

14 comments:

Sarah said...

I know how that could be terrifying. I couldn't sleep the first night in Hawaii after the tsunami hit in SE Asia, listening to the waves carefully and plotting the escape route.

a Broad said...

We lived in Florida after we moved away from NY, before we moved to Oregon and Argentina...
They promised me that hurricanes don't hit Jacksonville, that the way the coast is shaped they go right by .. They lied.
Our first summer in Florida, there were 5 hurricanes.
We left.
Not to mention the strangers that wave when you drive past, the deadly boredom that hits about the 4th month that you are there and you realize that you are really in Hell.. it just looks greener than you expected.

Cal's Canadian Cave of Coolness said...

Emergency cat food? That is just good eating.

Simply Suthern said...

So your first post after talking about talking about the weather was to talk about the weather? I am so cornfused.

pilgrimchick said...

Brilliant reply to his comment about freezing to death.

I think everyone in northern New England feels the same way about tourists...

imtsmom said...

I think T's just palin brilliant. Period.

Bossy Betty said...

Very cool! Tell the NG to throw in some dip too, for goodness sakes.

ICKY said...

I happen to know My mom (imtsmom) meant 'plain' not palin.
:P

Ms Sparrow said...

As a local cabbie once pointed out to me after a blizzard, "After a snowstorm in all melts away and everything is the same as before." So take that, you hurricane supporters!

Pearl said...

I just know that I'd have to have a hurricane preparedness kit, and with the closet space down here, where would I store it?!

Joanna Jenkins said...

I'm with T on the tourists. I wish they'd leave California too :-)

Loved this post Pearl. You tell a great story.

jj

Henna @ AboutCabinets Blog said...

love this pearl, the post is great and you have a way with story telling, you have done a great job

Douglas said...

I often remind visitors of the numerous and varied biting insects that live here in Florida amongst the oppressive heat and humidity, how one has to mow one's yard all year round, of the hurricanes and tropical storms, and so on. Still, they keep coming and, even worse, some come back to stay.

Sausage Fingers said...

Good old Florida, the dangling shaft of the US. As you know, I know where you were and I also know if a cane was on it's way there you would be up shits creek. Hope you didn't go to that bloody restaurant. Cheers, Sausage
come back anytime...