America has enough reason to hate South Florida right now.
For starters, it’s gonna be 86° and sunny today.
While the rest of the country is buried in snow, we are buried in, well, humid air.
Which can wreak havoc on stick-straight flat-ironed hair.
Poofs up like a puffer fish in seconds flat.
The plows that drive around here arrive early in the morning and are used to pack down the fine sand that’s been messed up from lackadaisical rounds of beach volleyball, tired tanned joggers who drag their feet, or lazy folk like myself sprawled out on beach towels, occasionally rolling towards the left or towards the right. You know how annoying an uneven clump of sand can get on your lower back after a couple of hours of sunbathing?
I understand the lack of sympathy, the growing resentment and sense of unfairness that most likely brews amongst fellow Americans in almost every other state. I mean, it snowed in Dallas yesterday! Texans are always friendly and even they seemed fed up on the evening news.
And now there’s this:
David Beckham, in all his tattooed glory, has announced he will be making Miami his new home.
You know the one.
The same one who ran around shamelessly in his undies in that H&M commercial during the Super Bowl? Women used their cocktail napkins to quietly dry the drool while men pushed away their third beer and sucked the gut in, just a bit.
The professional soccer player turned model turned millionaire turned Midas?
He’s got that pretty Posh Spice for a wife and the adorable kids?
With the smile that charms whether in a Gucci suit or a pair of cotton briefs?
You know the one.
It seems Beckham has his sights on turning Miami into an international soccer haven. It doesn’t really matter that this was tried before and flopped. Or that it’s not quite clear with what funds or exactly where a stadium will be built.
Or even that the team has no name or no start date.
It’s David Beckham behind the project and that seems to be enough.
Over here in South Florida we are beside ourselves. To the point that Beckham was a bit manhandled at a meet-and-greet with young soccer fans in an inner city park. Had to fix The Hair. People were scaling fences to catch a glimpse. Beckham was dashed out of there in a hurry only to be stuck in South Florida’s infamous traffic. Eventually he made it safely to South Beach where he was repeatedly photographed viewing upscale luxury properties. Would he go for the penthouse apartment with wrap-around glass balcony overlooking the Atlantic or the 7-bedroom mansion with bay views of the Miami skyline?
These are the problems consuming Miami right now.
So yes, we may seem rather lucky today. We get the demigod and the sunshine.
But remember, South Florida does have some things working against it, I promise.
Zillions of sites out there reinforce the thought.
Just Google “Crazy Things In South Florida” and you will see for yourself.
And books! There are entire books written on the topic! I am writing a book of my own right now so I know how much effort it takes- how your life gets zapped into that process, how you forget to feed children or bathe or interact with other human beings because of your book. How absorbing it is.
So I take my hat off to those who’ve given themselves up to that cause on behalf of Florida weirdness.
There’s tons of material.
We may have swaying palm trees, but we have loads of weird crap.
Take solace in knowing this: whenever something crazy happens, there is always a Florida connection.
We can’t help ourselves that way.
So, yes, you might not feel your extremities at the moment, but at least you’ve got your scruples.
Ours got blurry a long time ago in between shots of dangerously sweetened coladas. There’s the man accused of attacking his girlfriend with a banana, the Breaking Bad contest winner arrested for running an underground drug distribution operation, and the Mike Tyson wanna-be who bit his neighbor’s ear off over a cigarette. Just to name a few.
We’ve been known to lose our way.
The heat will make you zany like that.