Do You Have a Pen: Florida

Florida

Florida is a state I wish more would happen in.  I don’t go there anywhere near enough!  My joke text every time I cross the state line is,  “I’m in Florida now!  Where’s the cocaine?”  From what all I saw of Florida on the news before going there the first time,  I was convinced it would be like Hawaii where you get off the plane and instead of a flower necklace by beautiful Hawaiian women,  it would be hot Latinas in miniskirts with platters of blow.  In fact,  that would be the SNL commercial I would totally do for the Florida Welcome Center.  Fortunately,  that is completely untrue and makes me wonder what else television has lied to me about.

Jacksonville is trashy.  I know a few people who have been there and loved it,  but in all honesty,  it’s Gary,  Indiana with palm trees.  There are some nice houses and the Riverwalk area along the St.  Johns River is really nice and well built up.  If you like antiquing,  it’s definitely the right spot and there is one shop I go into every time I am there along with a plethora of restaurants that would make any foodie happy.  With that niceness,  there is also the other side of Jacksonville where I went to a Denny’s to wait on my bus to Atlanta and the Denny’s closed at midnight.  Denny’s is 24/7/365 everywhere and that’s kind of the point of Denny’s.  This Denny’s,  as explained to me by a staffer,  “in that lot they found a dead body last month and at that gas station there was a murder last week.  Well,  have a good night.  Be careful.  Some of the lights will be going off in just a minute.”  Then I stood there in the dark waiting on my Uber as I now jumped at every odd noise I heard.  At times,  I live a charmed life.  

My first trip to Jacksonville was my first time in Florida in twenty plus years and the last time before that was to Panama City Beach for October break from Purdue University North Central.  The thing that struck me the most was the humidity.  I had to wait around on the port for a couple hours while some dock workers got their heads out of their asses and it was humid,  but not hot.  The temperature was only seventy degrees if that,  but none of us could stop sweating and it wasn’t just perspiring.  No,  that would have been too classy of a word to describe the copious amounts of moisture coming off of all of us.  It was like we all just got out of a swimming pool in our clothes.  The bus station is like any other old bus station,  but they recently finished a new one that I have driven past while under construction multiple times and looks like bus station Mecca.  Train stations typically suck nearly as much as bus stations and I took the city bus to the train station in Jacksonville one time.  I was a little weirded out by the walk down some little lane to the train station and it’s an old brick or block building,  but not too bad.  On the back side where I waited on the train to D.C,  I looked up to realize I was waiting for a train under palm trees and that was pretty freaking cool.  The train station has an all brick facade and looks dingy from the front as you approach it,  but I’ve been in worse areas.  The inside was rather modern and the back side was a really nice open air waiting area outside.  Like many places in Florida,  it had overhead shelter to keep the rain off of you,  but there’s no real need for cold weather protection,  though at fifty degrees,  any good Floridian is freezing their asses off. 

I judge places I would live based on the TV show Cops.  If they were ever on that show,  I have no desire to live there,  and the more the city is on the show,  the less I want to visit.  Generally speaking,  the entire state of Florida was on that list.  When I saw Miami the first time,  I simply didn’t care.  Miami became on of my top cities that I would consider moving to.  I love Miami like I love L.A—passionately.  I was sleeping in the back of my truck and needed to be somewhere at six o’clock the next morning so I picked a Walmart parking lot.  Walmart is known for their hospitality for people in RVs and truckers.  So I hear some asshat beating on the side of my truck as I’m waking up and I go up front to see what he wanted.  Blurry-eyed,  I answer to see a guy in a brown uniform yelling at me in Spanish that I had to move.  I tried asking him what was wrong,  but he didn’t understand English and had to get his coworker.  Apparently Walmarts in Miami don’t allow you to sleep there overnight.  I’m not sure why they had the issue with it as opposed to literally every other Walmart I have slept in,  but whatever.  I could have asked for the store manager,  but just left.  Shortly thereafter I found a nice Shell station where they were nice enough to let me sleep till morning.  It was pitch black and I had enough breeze blowing in that it felt just about perfect.  Then it started raining and I slept like a baby as the rain tinkled on the roof of the truck.  Morning came far too fast.  Another time,  I spent a night at a hotel in Hollywood Beach,  which is only a few miles North of Miami.  Robert and I got a pair of rooms and it was the best vacation day ever!  (Maybe not  “ever,”  but it was pretty cool.)  We checked in around three o’clock in the afternoon and it was the day after Memorial Day.  We were both pretty hungry,  so ventured out onto the boardwalk in search of food and alcohol.  We found The Taco Spot and ordered some piña coladas as appetizers.  One look and I said,  “that looks like someone is getting an inappropriate text in a little bit.”  I was,  sadly,  right about that.  I know myself too well.  Then we ordered some fish tacos that were good,  but just good,  not as amazing as I had hoped.  Robert loved his and still brings them up from time to time in casual conversation.  I think I would have been happier with Mexican style shrimp or steak tacos.  Afterwards,  we both went for a drunken swim in the ocean and it felt fantastic.  I hadn’t been in the ocean in years so it refreshed me quickly.  I  was exhausted.  I had trouble sleeping that morning and Robert did not so when we met up early that day,  he was refreshed and I wasn’t sure what my own name was,  so I didn’t stay in the water that long and went up to my room as he continued to swim.  Later on,  I got up and went for another walk looking for something.  I’m not sure what it was exactly I was looking for,  but I was looking for it.  I did find Nick’s Bar and Grill,  which I saw earlier on my first walk and I went in for a late dinner.  I was extremely happy.  I had clam chowder,  a cheese burger,  and fries.  The fries were even hand-cut and perfectly cooked.  I could spend an entire vacation just at Nick’s.  I drank enough that going for a moonlight swim in the ocean seemed like a good idea.  It was not,  but I did it anyway and I felt great.  Have you ever swum alone in the ocean under a full moon?  For safety  (and personal liability)  reasons,  I can not recommend it,  but I would personally do it again,  regardless of the potential danger of tiger sharks.  Yes,  I knew there was that potential,  but I really didn't care  (thanks,  in part,  to the alcohol).  It was too cool to not do this and my life would be less fulfilled had I not.  I laid there floating on my back,  waves crashing,  looking up at the moon in a pitch black ocean,  while God knows what swam underneath of me.  Sometimes now when I am feeling stressed,  I look back at that and use that as a memory I can focus on to relax.  The full moon just sat there perfectly looking back at me and seemed like a scene out of a movie.  I never really knew how good life could feel till that exact moment. 

When working transport,  normally I don’t get hotels when driving.  I would drive somewhere,  sleep in the truck on the way there,  drop off the truck,  and fly home that day.  It was cheaper for me to get a room on a Monday night and airfare on Tuesday than just airfare on Monday and by  “cheaper,”  I mean it was half the price or less.  It was also cheaper to fly out of Fort Lauderdale  (FLL)  than Miami  (MIA),  though the food at the airport in Miami is better and there is a TGI Friday’s bar that is for smokers only,  which is a rare find once you cross a security checkpoint in an airport.  Also,  it seems cheaper to Uber to the Fort Lauderdale airport from Miami than to the Miami airport from many parts of the city of Miami itself,  though I would suggest the city  (regional)  train. 

When I was eighteen or so,  I went to Panama City Beach.  I was unimpressed mostly,  though I loved the hotel I stayed in.  It was a Holiday Inn Sunspree Resort that was a half moon and fourteen or so stories tall.  Each room was facing the ocean with a walkway on the street-side of the hotel.  I also found a bar called Pineapple Willy’s that was just a fun place.  The big thing in Panama City Beach is the white sand beaches.  People say that most beaches are white sand—and those people are colorblind.  Most beach sand is a lite brown or blonde color,  not white.  The white sand at Panama City Beach is this compact sand that has a consistency more akin to dirt than sand that ended up being hard to walk on for long periods of time for those of us who love long walks on the beach but also have bad knees due to an old work issue from their first job.  To me,  it was like walking on concrete after a while.  It wasn’t my feet that hurt,  but the impact on my knees and lower back were the issues.  I still did it,  but it wasn’t comfortable.  I was there at the same time period that I used to go to Myrtle Beach and my immediate retrospect after the trip was that I wish I had just gone to Myrtle Beach instead.

I jump at any chance I can to go to Florida,  even if its to Jacksonville.  I have fallen in love with the entire state,  even that strange tollway from  (almost)  Tampa to Miami.