Scenes from Florida

Here’s a gallery of pics from around where I live, on the Atlantic side of Florida, in what is known as the Treasure Coast.

I’m a week back from a month in Portugal.

Walking on straight concrete sidewalks on level ground is a lot easier on the ankles, once you get to my age. It was tough negotiating those picturesque but slippery streets in Tavira, and constantly having to climb hills.

The red tide (notice how the beach sign say it is a “natural” phenomenon: ha!) has gone away from the beach for now; the wind has carried it to Port St Lucie.

With the cold snap, it may eventually die out entirely within a week or two.

Unlike that guy who sent the bomb packages, not everyone who lives here is a loser.  In fact, most people who live where I do are kind of low-key, success stories.  The guys don’t weigh 300 lbs and wear tats.  They are just snowbirds who have done well for themselves in this world, but are typically quiet and unassuming about it.

Unlike the louche trailer park types, they are usually physically fit and keep to themselves and aren’t wacked on something half the time.  They usually don’t get involved in the local political craziness. and keep their distance from the obvious loonies who live here year round and let themselves go after a while.  Must be the heat, but once you stop shaving regularly and wearing the same T-shirt 3 days in a row while watching FOX 24 x 7, the slow brain rot sets in pretty quick, before the usual fatal Obama and Hillary and Nancy dementia.

On that basis, Florida between November and April is a reasonable place to hang out and chill, before you go back up North for culture and sophistication and cooler weather. Speaking of which, the other great thing about the weather, compared to El Gouna or Tavira, is the humidity:  while the dry air there makes your skin — if you are above a certain age — look like crêpe, here the 40-60% humidity keeps everything nice and supple, especially if you apply a facial cream every day.

Despite everything they say about it, the Sunshine State remains an ideal place to escape the winter blues, unless you live in or around places like Ft. Laudy, or, God forbid, Naples, or meth havens such as Indiantown.

And guess what, all the houses here, where my and I have lived for the last 17 years, have tiled Mediterranean style roofs — which is why we liked Tavira’s roofs so much! — and because this a pre-2006 built Divosta-built gated community, all the houses were constructed with steel-reinforced poured solid concrete: even after experiencing several hurricanes, our house withstood them no problem, though the lanai needed repairs.

So FLA ain’t so bad, so long as you don’t live here year round, and aren’t unlucky enough to have the old geezer from hell as your neighbor.

I just hope Nelson and Gillum win in the upcoming November elections, and a red tide of a different sort start to recede before a beautiful big blue wave.

leaving america