: : home     : : reviews     : : days gone by     : : litmag     : : who?     : : contact    

30 august 2000

kelli goes florida or bust

My sister is moving to Boca Raton, Florida, in the next couple of weeks. She got a really good job offer with an appealing company, loves hot (and I mean like aaagh hot) weather, and wanted a change of pace from her current home in Atlanta. All in all, it sounds like a pretty good deal, and I'm happy for her good fortune.

Nonetheless, I worry. I know, Kelli is a grown woman now, all big and strong and stuff. And I know that Boca Raton is probably a lot safer than Atlanta. I guess I'm concerned about less obvious aspects of her life there. Like, didn't Seinfeld's parents eventually end up there, living in a bungalow and driving a Crown Victoria? I mean, what's the Boca dating scene really like? What if she falls in love with a golfer? A shuffleboard player? Worst of all, what if Kelli gets all bingo-enthusiast on us and starts wearing printed rayon dresses...everywhere?

I've run all of these horrifying possibilities by her, and she said it isn't anything like that. That her company is filled with young people like herself, it's close to Fort Lauderdale, and she already has friends there. So I guess I found some comfort in her assurance, and progressed to the next level of sisterly worry -- alligators. And snakes, and insects that prey on alligators, which are really just leftover dinosaurs, and not the cute plant eating kind, either. Even those pelicans look vicious, and I am certain that Kelli could get scooped up in one of those expando-beaks. I have concluded that everything in Florida is a carnivore. My sister, AKA dinner. Eegh.

Okay, so since that's really creepy, let's talk about the other, human residents of Florida. Particularly the ones who drive. Now, Kelli has a Honda Civic. Everyone else drives an aircraft carrier and used to live in New York. Turn signals are optional, stop signs are nice roadway landscaping thingies, and those guys in the toupees and red convertables are NOT paying attention to the road. I'd better not hear of you getting in the car with one of them, I don't care how bad the dating scene is.

Do alligators run onto Florida roads like deer skeedaddle onto Indiana roads? Have you called Mom for some safety tips?

And no bingo! I mean it!

OH, and let's not forget Florida's lovely weather. Wouldn't it be weird if they had a Hurricane Kelli this year? And tornadoes -- you thought Indiana was bad? Florida has them too, and they're even more dangerous because they suck up alligators, which are now flying around and just chomping on whatever flies past them. It's not a cyclone, it's a salad shooter. No, I don't think I like the idea of Kelli living in such a place. Does the Census bureau collect "your chances of being eaten alive here are..." statistics?

You are going to wear sunscreen every day? Because if you become one of those perpetually- suntanned people and hang around me for any time, everyone's going to think you're adopted.

I'm trying to look on the bright side, really. Like, she can fly up to North Carolina whenever she wants and visit me!

Okay, let's try that again. I've spent a fair amount of time in Florida, and it can be a wonderland if you know where to go. Head out to the Gulf Coast, to the area around Alligator Point. I spent some time out there a few years ago, but not on the sugary sands. I went to the river areas, and hiked through some of the wildest, most wonderful places I've ever seen. Even better, I laid for awhile on an extended pier and saw manatees swimming in a quiet part of the river. I saw and heard dragonflies that that lived up to the name. It was the Florida they don't tell you about in the tourist brochures -- the quiet part. The one that is spared from Spring Break, beer and carloads of people screaming, "WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I hope, Kelli, that you discover these places for yourself, and that you avoid the floral prints for as long as possible. Eat good food. Drive carefully. If you get too close to an alligator, lie down and play like you're a carrot or something. Tell my friends' parents I said, "hi."

And don't let me find out you've taken up shuffleboard, wear your best flip-flops when you go out, and are eating at Cracker Barrel every Sunday after church. I will come down there.