In Florida, we’ve got it good. And we have it bad. We offer you an alphabet’s worth of things that make the
Sunshine State all that it is, literally from alligators to zoological wonders, with some mosquitos in between.
But it’s not just about critters.
“Florida man” aside, it’s about the people, and a way of life.
We endure, despite the heat and the hurricanes and the traffic. We revel in the natural wonders of our Everglades and our beaches, as palm fronds hold sway and beckon wading birds and snowbirds alike.
As they’ve all come to learn, Florida, like Key lime pie, is fascinating — any way you slice it.
{A}LLIGATOR
In Florida, there is no animal more iconic than the American alligator. Or more terrifying. And with good reason.
The state is home to about 1.3 million of ’em. The largest gator on record exceeded 14 feet, and the heaviest weighed more than half a ton. But it ain’t just the size of these critters that give us the jitters. Their jaws can close with a pressure measuring 3,000 pounds per square inch — equivalent to the bite of a T-Rex. Being “opportunity eaters,” gators have been known to feed on frogs, fish, snakes, waterfowl, small mammals, snails, turtles and … wait for it … other alligators. Even sticks, stones, cans, fishing lures and other assorted nonfood items have been discovered inside their bellies.
While attacks on humans are rare (dogs and cats are more likely to be their victims), people are not out of the question as a menu item. With population growth and development, human confrontations with alligators are increasing. And they never end well — for either party (if found, the offending gators are put down). So never EVER feed a wild gator. It’s not only illegal, you’re also inviting yourself — and others — to eventually become dinner.
{B}OB’S BARRICADES
Wherever you go, there’s not only traffic, but backed-up traffic. (See letter T.) Traffic that’s detoured. Traffic that’s down to one lane. All because of construction. Construction everywhere. And because of that construction, more multitudinous than golf courses or palm trees or grains of sand on the beach: Bob’s Barricades, a row of never-ending orange plastic cones, looking like endless dunce caps.
According to Bob’s Barricades website, it’s the largest privately-owned barricade company in the country, and one of the largest in the world. (After all the orange cones we’ve seen, we believe it.) They’ve been “providing temporary traffic control” since 1975, (though that “temporary traffic control” feels pretty permanent.) That’s a lot of barricades that have been cursed at over more than four decades.
Bob’s Barricades. They keep you from where you want to go.
Thanks a ton, Bob.
{C}ORAL REEFS
The Florida Reef System stretches under the ocean from Key West along the eastern coast up to Martin County for 358 miles. Teeming with fish and other wildlife, a boon to the state’s tourism industry and a natural buffer to sustain our shoreline, these delicate coral reefs make up the largest system in the continental United States. But they also are endangered. Scientists warn we could lose
70 percent of the reef by 2050 without action. The Florida
Reef Resilience Program is a collaborative program of more than a dozen government, nonprofit and university partners who are working to sustain it. Find out more at www.frrp.org.
{D}ISNEY
Young and old alike — upward of 50,000 people every day — flock to the Sunshine State from around the globe to experience Walt Disney World’s 47 square miles of futuristic and fantastical rides, restaurants, animal and water parks, shops and hotels, spas, sports and parades, campfire sing-alongs and character encounters. For many, it’s a once-in-a-lifetime kind of vacation; Floridians who really feel the magic (and have the funds, for even with ample resident discounts, any Disney visit requires real-world budgeting) make the trek to the Lake Buena Vista mecca for every long weekend on the calendar.
Whether you visit just once, or once a month, here are some fun facts behind the magic, according to www.BudgetTravel.com:
¦ Disney’s 70,000 employees make it the largest single-site employer in the country.
¦ Every day, an average of 210 pairs of sunglasses find their way to Disney’s lost and found department.
¦ The Liberty Oak, which stands in Liberty Square in the Magic Kingdom, has spawned more than 500 oak trees via its harvested acorns.
¦ There’s a hotel suite inside Cinderella’s Castle that can sleep six. Reservations are impossible, though, as the winning overnight guests are chosen at random each day. And these tidbits come from www.Tripster.com:
¦ Tiny but mighty, Tinkerbell can weigh no more than 95 pounds and carries 35 pounds of costume and battery pack for her nightly flight around Cinderella’s Castle.
¦ Cleaning protocols are in place to deal with the common phenomenon of people’s ashes being scattered at the park.
Disney World has closed only four times since opened in 1971: for Hurricane Floyd in 1999; for the terror attacks in 2001; for a power failure in 2002; for Hurricane Matthew in 2006.
¦ it 9/11 and
{E}VERGLADES
It’s more than gators. The Everglades is a fragile ecosystem comprising about 2 million acres of tropical wetlands, which include mangroves, sawgrass marshes and pine flatwoods. Despite its infamous critters, there is wondrous splendor to be found there.
Inhabited by humans for the last 15,000 years, the Everglades is home to several species of orchids and more than 360 types of birds. The best-known wading birds are wood storks, ibises, roseate spoonbills, egrets and herons.
Here, one also will find manatees, dolphins, snakes, American alligators — even American crocodiles. If lucky, you might spot the Everglades’ most endangered animal, the Florida panther. Everglades National Park alone has 27 different kinds of snakes. Unfortunately, that includes the non-native Burmese python.
Because of its size, Everglades National Park has three separate entrances, none of which connects to the others. Explore on foot, by bike, canoe, kayak or airboat. The best way to plan a visit is to visit www.nps.gov.
No matter what your visit includes, be sure to look all around you. Wonders often exist in the tiniest spaces.
{F}ISHING
Back in the late 1960s, the band Country Joe And The Fish recorded its “Fixing-to-Die Rag,” yelling the command, “gimme an F, gimme an I, gimme an S, gimme an H,” and then, “what’s that spell?” They spelled it a little differently when they performed the song at Woodstock in 1969, but that’s another story. For the purposes of “F” in Florida, let’s focus on fishing.
Florida boasts about 1,350 miles of saltwater coastline, offering the opportunity to catch a variety of fish species. According to Visit Florida, Florida is the “Fishing Capital of the World.” But, according to Visit Florida, we’re also the golf capital of the world, too (see “G,” below). Inshore fishing tends to target tarpon, snook, redfish (red and black drum), certain varieties of trout and a ton of other species.
And not far offshore in the Atlantic, past the reef, the water gets deep — ranging from 500 feet to well over 1,000 feet. That’s bluewater fishing, where you might have a shot at hooking up on sailfish, dolphin (mahi-mahi), tuna, grouper and shark, among other species.
An estimated 7,700 freshwater lakes and 10,550 miles of rivers in Florida also provide a healthy amount of freshwater fishing. Largemouth bass are plentiful in Florida, inhabiting ponds, creeks, rivers and lakes. Some of those habitats even contain alligators (see “A”).
{G}OLF
Florida is the “Golf Capital of the World,” or so the marketing material states. But pay a visit to Visit Florida and you’ll find the saying is pretty true. The official Florida tourism department says the state has some “1,100 courses in every corner of the state, waiting to challenge everyone under the sun.”
We Are Golf compiles economic impact studies to educate lawmakers about the game’s contributions to society. Its state-by-state statistics illustrate the economic impact of golf in Florida, along with the tax revenues and jobs it creates:
$13.8 billion total economic output
$7.5 billion golf economic output
$4.7 billion total wages
167,377 total jobs
1,128 golf courses
Florida leads the golf stats in every state. The closest state to Florida for the number of golf courses is California, with 921 courses. Texas comes in third with 907.
{H}URRICANES
Old-timers may tell you weathering hurricanes is a breeze. But they lie.
This season alone, AccuWeather estimates tropical cyclones caused $22 billion in damage in the United States and an additional $5 billion in the Bahamas.
Many of Florida’s major milestones have been marked by hurricanes — at least 2,500 people died in the Glades during the 1928 hurricane, which helped bring an end to the ’20s land boom, and the destruction from Hurricane Andrew, in 1992, forced a change in the state’s building codes.
Over the past 15 years, South Florida has suffered direct hits from Frances, Jeanne and Wilma, along with a hearty bump in 2017 from Irma.
And don’t get us started about the hoarding of water and gasoline before the storms and the intense heat and humidity and the endless drone of generators afterward. We want our air conditioning!
{I}INSPIRATION
There is plenty to get inspired about in Florida, from religious megachurches to breathtaking sunsets and plenty in between. While Florida is comprised of 70% traditional Christians, our state has a history of colorful and unorthodox spiritual leaders, some headquartered here. Florida resident and Scientology leader
David Miscavige, above left, for example, has moved founding leader L. Ron Hubbard’s vision to our state. The group owns a majority of land in downtown Clearwater, right, where its Flag Service Organization, or headquarters, is located.
Florida pioneer visionary Cyrus Teed, above right, offered inspirational contributions that visitors can see, read, touch and tour at the Koreshan Settlement at Koreshan State Park in Estero, where he settled as early as 1894. Get a look back at what it was like to be a part of a religious community that believed the earth was literally inside out, with a focus on reincarnation, celibacy to attain immortality, and more. A tour there will walk you past well-preserved business and residential structures from the era.
If you are looking for more nonreligious affiliated offerings, consider meditating or praying within in the beauties and magnificence of our beaches, flora and wildlife. They might bring you even greater existential transcendence, perhaps aligning you ever closer to nirvana.
{J}UICE
“A day without orange juice is like a day without sunshine,” touted Anita Bryant in commercials during the 1970s. That day might be coming for the state’s roughly $10 billion citrus industry, second only to tourism.
In most seasons, more than 90% of the orange juice in the nation is made from oranges grown in Florida. And roughly 87% of Florida citrus is processed into canned, chilled or frozen concentrated juices.
However, a bacterial disease from Asia that was introduced here in 2005 has put the industry in jeopardy. That pathogen — which has infected 90% of the state’s groves — prevents raw green fruit from ripening. An estimated two-thirds of the juice-processing factories have closed their doors. The major players — Tropicana (owned by PepsiCo) and Minute Maid (owned by Coca-Cola) would, if necessary, buy citrus from other parts of the world.
Speaking of players, if you’re debating which O.J. tastes best, know that (outside of genuinely fresh-squeezed) all citrus juice is artificially flavored. The juice loses its taste while being stored in vats for up to a year, so flavor packs — which are mostly chemicals (and are not required to be disclosed on product labels) — are added. Down the hatch.
{K}EY LIME PIE
It ain’t easy being green.
And that’s precisely what Key lime pie is not supposed to be — the juice of the diminutive Key lime is yellow.
Some say its genesis lies in the pantries of Florida
Keys fishermen, who squeezed the lime juice into cans of sweetened condensed milk, which caused the milk to thicken into a sweet, tart custard that they sprinkled with saltines to cut the sweetness. Aficionados argue over whether the pie should have a graham cracker or pastry crust, but we don’t care, as long as our Key lime pie is yellow.
{L}IGHTNING
Florida is known as the lightning capital of the United States, averaging thunderstorms 70-100 days per year. AccuWeather ranks Florida fourth in the nation for lightning flashes behind Texas, Oklahoma and Kansas.
However, Vaisala and the National Weather Service report that, because of the dense population in Florida — and the amount of time people spend outdoors year-round — more people are struck and killed by lightning in Florida than any other state. Sea breezes on both coasts, humidity and heat all work together to create, well, a perfect storm of sorts.
The good news? According to NWS data, the odds of being hit by lightning in a person’s lifetime are 1 in 13,500. The bad news — if you happen to be a man — men are much more likely to be struck than women.
But if you’re a fan of thunder and lightning, the corridor between Tampa Bay to the west and Cape Canaveral on the east coast is the place for you. It’s known as “Lightning Alley.”
{M}OSQUITO
Some jokingly argue that the mosquito should be named Florida’s state bird. Mosquitoes — and the maddening itching their bites bring — have ruined countless otherwise pleasant summer evenings outdoors.
Beyond that, though, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention has tagged the mosquito as the world’s deadliest animal. Being a carrier of illnesses such as malaria, dengue, West Nile, yellow fever, Zika, chikungunya and lymphatic filariasis, the mosquito kills more people than any other creature in the world. Over the summer, a case of dengue was detected in Miami, and a case of Eastern equine encephalitis virus — which could cause brain swelling in humans — was reported in Orange County.
If the rainy season is exceptionally heavy, as it was in 2017, mosquitoes become an itch we can’t scratch. Their populations become apocalyptic, due to the rain creating standing water that doesn’t have time to dry and washing away the exterminating chemicals almost as fast as they’re sprayed.
We suggest you treat mosquitoes as a real threat. Florida Health recommends draining standing water to stop mosquitoes from multiplying, covering your skin with clothing and using mosquito repellent, and covering doors and windows with screens to keep mosquitoes out. Better safe than sickly.
{N}ATIVE AMERICANS
The Sunshine State area about 500 years ago had a thriving population of tens of thousands of native people. Whether the Calusa on the southwest coast, the Tequesta on the East, the Mayaimi in the Glades or the Pensacola in the Panhandle, diverse indigenous communities had formed across Florida over the course of — long story short — about 12,000 years, when researchers believe human beings first arrived during an Ice Age.
Spanish explorers showed up in the early 1500s. They and later Europeans also sought to colonize Florida. As a result, indigenous communities were devastated by disease, slavery and warfare. Later in the 1700s, Native American tribes from Georgia and Alabama moved to Florida and became known as the Seminoles and later the Miccosukee tribes, respectively. The U.S. government sought to remove the Seminoles, leading to a war that ended with no formal treaty ever being signed. According to the Seminole Tribe of Florida, there were some 200,000 indigenous people in the state at 1500 AD. Now there are fewer than 3,000. Visit www.trailoffloridasindianheritage.org for information on where to visit historic Native American sites throughout Florida.
{O}KEECHOBEE
Okeechobee means “Big Water” in the Seminole language. At 730 square miles it is vast but relatively shallow with an average depth of just 9 feet. Lake O is the headwaters of the Everglades. It captures runoff from as far north as Orlando and, long ago, naturally spilled south with its waters running into Florida Bay. In order to build homes and businesses, raise cattle, grow sugar cane, and create roads, people have polluted and damaged this ecosystem, with a footprint roughly the size of New Jersey. Government projects are in the long process of trying to restore some semblance of the natural flow. Meanwhile, Lake O still offers ample opportunities for enjoying scenic beauty, fishing (especially bass and catfish) at old-time spots such as Joe’s Fish Camp, bird watching, scenic airboat rides, and hiking and camping along the Lake Okeechobee Scenic Trail (LOST) built atop the dike that surrounds the lake. Visit www.fortmyers. floridaweekly.com/articles/around-lake-o/ for more information.
{P}ALMS
In Florida, you’ve got a frond.
Forget the hurricanes, forget the citrus. We’re known for our palms, from the coconuts that sprouted along the shore from the cargo of a shipwreck near Palm Beach, to the mighty royals that line McGregor Boulevard in Fort Myers, the Sunshine State’s City of Palms. Of the hundreds of varieties that are popular in Florida, the state is home only to 12. And of those, one, the cabbage palm, happens to be the state tree. Its heart also makes for good eating — just ask the folks in LaBelle, who for the past half-century have hosted a Swamp Cabbage Festival each February.
{Q}UIRKINESS
Quirky starts with a “Q,” and so does “quintessential,” words that together characterize Florida’s blue-ribbon status as the most quintessentially quirky state in the union.
Not just because of “Florida Man,” either, the internet meme dating from 2013 — but yeah, that, too, based on real news stories. Florida Man run over by dog driving van; Florida Man arrested for joy-riding drunk in a motorized Walmart cart; Florida Man steals $33,000 in rare coins and runs them through a Coinstar machine, collecting a whopping $29.30. And hundreds more, it seems.
Here, we complain about snow every day then celebrate winter festivals by bringing in snow-making machines to amuse our children because it hasn’t snowed south of Tampa or Orlando in the last 5,000 years.
Here, we have the Skunk Ape, a creature of the southern Everglades described by promoters as a relative of Bigfoot in the Pacific Northwest, a mammal. Males are said to stand about 8 feet high — that’s based on a number of reported sightings in the last 55 years, they say.
Here, we have a politician who A.) said she was abducted by aliens but ran for the Congress anyway (Republican Bettina Rodriguez Aguilera, Dist. 27, last year) and got endorsed by a major newspaper (the Miami Herald); and another who B.) somehow noticed a state law exists prohibiting the throwing of dwarfs in bars. So he campaigned to have the ban repealed (former State Rep. Ritch Workman, a Melbourne Republican). “All that (ban) does is prevent some dwarfs from getting jobs they would be happy to get,” he was quoted as saying. Workman later had to quit a new appointment by then-Gov. Rick Scott to a $130,000-plus paying seat on the board that regulates Florida utilities, after State Sen. Lizbeth Benacquisto accused him of sexual harassment.
But last year he secured a job as special projects manager at Palm Bay City Hall ($62,000 per year, newspapers reported). Maybe he’ll work on getting little people better jobs, there. Quirky max.
{R}OCKETS
For almost 70 years, Cape Canaveral has been the primary rocket launch site for American ventures into space, both because downrange is not only eastward with the Earth’s spin, but oceanwide, in case a launch becomes a bust and the rocket goes down.
And nowadays the National Aeronautics and Space Administration isn’t the only one venturing into the unknown via rocket here: NASA shares the Space Coast with private rocketeers such as Elon Musk and his aerospace company, SpaceX, intent on placing a tapestry of satellites in orbit to create a broadband internet network; or Boeing and Lockheed Martin, with a joint company called United Launch Alliance. Future missions will require a public-private partnership among all of them to ferry astronauts and supplies to the International Space Station, among others.
Companies producing both satellites and rockets have moved to the Space Coast, all of which creates 85,000 jobs and a huge injection of tourist money into the state.
People like to see rockets rise, understandably. And they can regularly. By going to the Kennedy Space Center website, www.kennedyspacecenter.com, visitors can find the schedule for upcoming missions, with such exciting descriptions as this: “Rocket launch, Feb. 5, 2020, 11:15 p.m., EST. Where: Cape Canaveral Air Force Station. Witness liftoff! This mission is a joint collaboration between NASA and the European Space Agency to study our star, the sun.”
{S}NOWBIRDS
Snowbirds start flying to Florida in November, though some arrive earlier and some later. According to www.Floridasmart.com, it’s estimated that 900,000 to 1 million snowbirds come to Florida during season, increasing the state’s population by 5%.
Once here, they drive slowly, because they have nowhere to go and all the time to get there. Their cars are always defective: Either their signal lights don’t work, or one blinks nonstop even though the car’s driving straight for the next 10 miles.
Their plumage is either beige or clashing tropical colors. They wear black socks with sandals and shorts. They clog up the roads and restaurants. They swim even when the water’s cold. They flock together.
Typically, they leave around Easter, and have never had to survive a Florida hurricane or deal with temps and humidity in the high 90s.
Then they return again the following winter.
{T}RAFFIC
If the Jacksonville-raised Southern rock ’n’ roll band Lynyrd Skynyrd had faced Florida’s current massive urban traffic congestion — roads crowded with hurried drivers in conditions that too-often lead to lethal nightmares — they never would have written “T for Texas,” based on Jimmie Rodgers’ “Blue Yodel No. 1.” Instead, they might have laid down these lyrics without ever mentioning a woman named Thelma: “Give me a T for Texas, give me a T for Tennessee, give me a T for Traffic, these roads made a fool out of me.”
Traffic analysts tell us what Florida drivers already know: Especially in such urban areas as Orlando, Tampa and the entire South Florida coastal metropolis from Palm Beach to Miami-Dade counties, traffic is among the worst in the nation (though not the worst; that honor goes to Los Angeles and New York City).
Data from the 2019 Texas A&M Urban Mobility Report shows Miami commuters can spend 69 hours sitting in traffic jams in a year, and Orlando commuters 57 hours, costing upward of $1 billion a year for such metropoles.
Pick the wrong commute on the wrong day in Sarasota, Fort Myers or even Naples, and you might as well be a Miamian.
There is one solution: Don’t drive in the city and don’t listen to Lynyrd Skynyrd. Stick to the more rural roads, as Canned Heat once sang: “Going up the country, baby don’t you want to go/ I’m going to someplace, I’ve never been before…”
Where there’s no traffic, and the water tastes like wine.
{U}NIVERSITIES
Universities — For three years in a row, U.S. News and World Report has declared Florida’s higher education system to be the best in the nation.
And you thought Florida schools had a reputation as party spots.
But the Seminole-Gators rivalries aside, the state has come a long way from not that long ago, when Florida State University (then a women’s school), the University of Florida (where the boys really were until, until 1947) and Florida A&M (a historically black school) were the only state bastions of higher education. FSU and UF still are notorious football rivals, and Florida A&M is noted for its marching band.
Florida’s State University Systems comprises 12 member universities, from Florida International University in Miami to the University of West Florida in Pensacola. In between, according to Wikipedia, there are 28 community colleges and state colleges, 26 religiously affiliated institutions, 24 trade-technical institutions and 38 “other” private institutions specializing in everything from aeronautics (Embry-Riddle U. in Daytona Beach) to osteopathic medicine (Lake Erie College in Bradenton). Three schools rank in the top 100: the University of Florida, at No. 35; the University of Miami, at No. 53; and Florida State University, at No. 70.
But the Sunshine State still could use a little help with its K-12 programs, which U.S. News and World Report ranked at 27th in the nation.
{V}ACATIONLAND
Whether you are a native Floridian or a transplant from the frozen north, it’s likely that out-of-town family visit because you live in vacationland. Most of them are escaping the cold, wooed by the sun and surf. But Florida goes way beyond. After they leave and Aunt Sophie has given you your bed back, you might do a bit of exploring yourself.
When Ponce de Leon landed here, historians believe he named the state after Spain’s Easter, “Pascua Florida,” or Feast of Flowers.
And flowers we have! From Marie Selby Botanical Gardens in Sarasota and Naples Botanical Garden to Bok Tower Gardens in Lake Wales, Florida Botanical Gardens, The Kampong in Miami, Mounts Botanical Garden in West Palm Beach and more, Florida is all flowers, all the time.
Discover Florida history in St. Augustine, which lays claim to being the oldest city in the U.S. or visit the Maitland home of famed civil rights leader and educator Mary McLeod Bethune, Civil War-era Fort Zachary Taylor in Key West, the stately Miami-Biltmore Hotel and Country Club and countless other sites.
With its myriad state parks, beaches, springs and theme parks — Florida rightly holds the moniker, Vacationland.
{W}ATER
Water — it’s everywhere! You can call Florida a splashfest.
In addition to gulf and Atlantic beaches, there are more than 700 springs in Florida — a perfect way to relive that old swimming-hole experience you might have had as a kid. The water is cooler than the gulf in summer (about 72 degrees) and certainly calmer than the Atlantic.
Mostly in the central and northern parts of the state, some are within state or national parks. All are fed by the underground aquifer.
One of the better-known parks is Ichetucknee Springs State Park, a simple water adventure that anyone can enjoy. You’ll see kids, their parents and grandparents tubing down the river.
And who doesn’t love mermaids? You can view these underwater, fish-tailed women performing their famous water ballet through the glass from a submerged theater at Weeki Wachee Springs. The family fun continues with a beach, water slides, swimming and kayaking.
The Crystal River area, where manatees spend their winter, is rife with springs. Local tours include swimming and snorkeling with the manatees or simply observing them.
VisitFlorida.com can provide maps, brochures and other materials to help plan your water experience.
Get splashing!
{X}-RATED
Look no further than our state flag to give you some indication at what some of our attractions here are rated — X. (In some places X is or has been a motion picture rating reserved for the most explicit films intended for only adults defined as people over the age of 18 or 21.) Starting with the World Erotic Art Museum in Miami Beach, there are plenty of sexually fueled exhibitions for your pleasure to peruse. While erotic art may be considered nasty by some, most of the less than puritanical sort may really enjoy the exploration of human sexuality considered, including the curation of art brought here by Dr. Naomi Wilzig, who founded the museum.
If you are looking for some sex on the beach, look no further. You can head to most drinking establishments and simply order the aptly named drink, concocted with vodka, peach schnapps, cranberry and orange juices. (Yes, some people do have sex on our beaches. No, we can’t really talk about it and keep in mind that it could lead to arrest if spotted.)
If you are trying NOT to get caught in a sex sting here, you wouldn’t be the first, including a very publicized encounter where New England Patriots owner Robert Kraft allegedly paid for sexual services at the Orchids of Asia Day Spa in Jupiter. The 77-year-old Super Bowl-winning franchise leader has denied all allegations. There is, of course, plenty of opportunity for consensual rendezvous with Tinder coming in as the most popular used dating/hookup app here. And there’s always the simple old-fashioned way of connecting by heading to a great bar or nightspot, which there are plenty of here. (Oh, be sure to watch the award-winning documentary film “Hot Girls Wanted,” by reporters Jill Bauer and Ronna Gradus, if you want to see a rather sketchy underbelly of our state that churns out adult films galore.)
{Y}’ALL
Y’all, spoken with a drawl and a twang, is a shortened form of “you all,” used by Floridians to mean “you.” Confusingly, it can refer to an individual as well as a group of people. “Y’all spoken here” can be found in the windows of businesses and in their advertisem*nts. It’s shorthand for: “This business is owned by a Cracker and not by a Yankee.” It’s an attempt to draw in business from natives, even though it’s a turn-off for some northerners.
Floridians will say “y’all” the way Northeasterners say “you guys.” And both sides will send heated letters to the editor explaining why their way of speech is correct and the other is offensive. It’s an endless battle.
Female Floridians think they’re being called a man, while Northerners think they’re being accused of having multiple personalities and can’t understand why you guys keep insisting on saying “y’all” when saying “you” is so much more efficient.
{Z}OOLOGICAL WONDERS
Even zoologists with decades of experience among creatures south of the Georgia line can still appear dazzled by the cornucopia of animal oddities in Florida. Some seem foreign not only to the United States or North America, but to the planet.
Natural Florida includes fish that change sex; birds that fly underwater; reptiles that make camels look like the second string, because they almost never drink; and mammals that always and only give birth to quadruplets.
There are hundreds more, but here’s an idea. The little bluehead wrasse schools in Caribbean and southern Florida waters, where the fish has a startling adaptive trait: When a male disappears, the largest female can change sex in a matter of 10 days, assuming all the roles and body-functions of a male. Meanwhile snook, the popular game fish, is a protandric hermaphrodite — the males can reverse sex to become females after spawning season. Why? No one knows precisely.
Double-crested cormorants hunt fish, shrimp, crabs, crayfish, frogs and others in part by “flying” underwater, where they use their tails and sometimes their wings to propel them at great speeds, shooting along like dark avian torpedoes.
Gopher tortoises, dry-land turtles that live as long as 80 years in the wild, take in moisture from the vegetation they consume — grass, mushrooms, saw palmetto berries, prickly pear cactus and the like. Thus, they rarely need to approach standing water and drink.
And nine-banded armadillos apparently don’t believe in spoiled, only children or even two or three. They always have quadruplets. When the female’s egg is fertilized during breeding, it won’t implant in the uterus for as long as three to four months, until the season is favorable. Once it gestates, however, it splits into four embryos, all identical, born four months later.
Go look; you’ll see. ¦
