May 13 2007
Florida - What Hath God Wrought?
I left Miami today, en route to Phoenix, Las Vegas and L.A. before leaving for Singapore and Indonesia.
I made the (now-questionable) decision of renting a trailer to haul all of my remaining possessions to Phoenix attached to the back of my Jeep Wrangler.
The majority of these possessions include my living room furniture, which I will be giving to my friend in Phoenix, ostensibly as payment for him storing my Jeep and the 8 or so milk crates that now hold the remainder of my personal possessions — mainly books, clothes, surf-wax, and assorted water-pipes.
My Jeep is of the open-air kind. I have removable doors, removable soft-canvas "windows," as well as canvas "bikini-tops" for the roof and the rear seats. As a result, I am always a victim of the weather, to some extent or another, depending on how many of those items I choose to install on any given day.
Today, I started my trip with only the bikini tops — which were fine until I got the the middle of the State, around Orlando. That's when the swarm of mutant mosquitoes were released from the Military Weapons Research Facility.
I swear to fucking god, I was driving 60 MPH in an open air Jeep Wrangler towing a 2000 pound trailer and, in a matter of less than a minute, the air outside (which obviously also included the air inside) got so thick with huge swarming mosquitoes that, for a split second, I literally thought they were a CGI production from the guys at Industrial Light & Magic (yes, I know I need to stay away from Sci-FI films for a bit).
Upon regaining my tenuous grasp on reality, I was forced to get off at the nearest exit and put on the doors and the remaining canvas tops in a vain attempt to stay the mutant insect horde, all to no avail.
Indeed, right now, I'm in a hotel room outside Pensacola, and I still have bugs emerging from various bags, pockets and crevices (not a word, Manny, I know what you're thinking, sicko). In fact, I'd never considered the need for fumigating my hair until now.
Moreover, as I mentioned previously, most of the State of Florida is - quite literally - on fire. The smoke has dissipated, for the most part, in South Florida. Not so much elsewhere (everywhere) in the State. In fact, the visibility in the upper panhandle was anywhere from 30 to 100 feet in most areas, where I could actually see the glow of the fires from the highway.
This extensive fire and smoke also made for particularly fun driving conditions in an open air vehicle. Everything I was wearing - hell, everything I own - now smells like I was hanging out at a bonfire making s'mores all day. Plus, after breathing that thick, nasty, gunky smoke for several hours today, I now have a newfound respect for firefighters … and people who smoke Marlboro Reds.
Last, but not least, were the hail storms. Yes, you read right — it's Florida in the middle of May, and in those parts of the state not otherwise enveloped by fire, smoke, or swarms of mutant insects, there were instead terrible storms raining down golf-ball sized hail (which, although disconcerting, admittedly did lead to inadvertently comical driving of all the elderly tourists trying to get out of the state before Lucifer himself shows up).
Yes, I've said it before and I'll say it again — Florida really is starting to resemble something from The Divine Comedy or the Garden of Earthy Delights.
Given today's events, I'm pretty sure I saw the Suwannee River running red with blood.
Can you say "happy to get out alive?"
Oh shit, I'm not out yet. Let's hold off on those types of comments until I hit Mississippi tomorrow.
Matt, your coverage of the fires is way better than the local news.
You’re in my neck of Florida; the beaches are way better than South Florida or at least they were before the developers got to the area. Unfortunately you’ve passed Sandestin, I love the beaches there and in Fort Walton. The people are much nicer on that end of Florida too.
If the devastation follows your path through Mississippi to L.A., we’ll start looking for 666 on your scalp, dude.
Ah yes, Mississippi, bastion of modern civilization and surf Mecca. Do make for it with all haste. Is that banjo music I hear?
V, I didn’t know you were from up that a way. Yes, the area is absolutely beautiful, but the people … well, how to put this delicately … it’s “The South,” with all the rednecks and other implications that follow. Did you have many problems growing up there?
Manny, no, the banjos - like the voices you hear - are all in your head, dude. You may want to lay off the pipe for a few hours. Just a suggestion, my friend.