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I Love Fire Ants
By Dano
The New Year brings out our usual list of resolutions and hopes for the
future. After some serious medical problems a few years ago, I adjusted my
thinking. I still try to improve the upcoming new year, but I also like to
reflect on the great things I already have.
One of the blessings we have in Central Florida is the wonderful weather.
I love Florida. I think we live in the best place on Earth. We enjoy daily
sunshine, two oceans, wildlife and fishing, world-class tourist
attractions, restaurants, entertainment, and most of all terrific
motorcycle riding year round. Most visiting Europeans think we live in
paradise. I agree.
An hour's ride from my driveway, I can ride the oak-canopied roads of
Brooksville and Floral City or the orange grove covered hills of Clermont
and Howey-in-the-Hills. I can reach Disney, the vacation capital of the
world, or airboat the great Cypress swamps. I can watch NFL football,
major league baseball, NBA basketball, or even NHL hockey, all in person
if I choose. I can hook world-class large mouth bass 15 minutes from my
house or water-ski at Cypress Gardens.
But I can most often be found riding my two-wheeler down the beautiful
gulf-view drives of the West Coast, my favorite area of Florida for
one-day cruising -- from Clearwater Beach south to Naples. I love those
one-of-a-kind, casual oceanfront seafood places where the fish is fresh,
the sun is warm, and the beverages are cold.
I first got Florida sand in my Indiana shoes in 1961 on summer vacation
with my family. When we unloaded our pink '57 Buick on Jacksonville Beach,
I knew I would someday call Florida home. I'll never forget it. As my
brother and I body-surfed in the waves of a coming tropical storm, I felt
I had found the place I needed to be. I quietly stored that thought away
until I had finished school, married, and saved a few bucks for the U-haul
rental. Then I moved, with my new bride, to bustling Ft. Lauderdale. I
returned shortly to the Midwest for a job opportunity, but my heart was
always in Florida. And now I plan to never leave.
Around the holiday season, when we talk to friends and family up north, I
am most grateful for Florida's warmth and sunshine. Even when we get the
occasional frost or if a strawberry or two get frozen, our cool weather
woes pale in comparison to any place north of Atlanta.
My oldest daughter and her family recently went to visit their in-laws in
Buffalo. The original plan was to introduce the kids to snow. Wow, did
they ever get an introduction! About five feet fell during their visit.
The kids came home with chapped faces and runny noses. They all came home
with a new appreciation of the Sunshine State. (My son-in-law made sure to
tell his Northern relatives what his father-in-law always says:
"You're only a U-haul away from tropical paradise!") My daughter
told me how glad she was that I had moved the family to Florida years ago.
She didn't understand why people had to live in those conditions. I told
her I had an inkling of that over 30 years ago when I was watching the
Orange Bowl on New Years Day and my mother wanted me to shovel the walk
during halftime to avoid being blocked in.
At times, I have forgotten the pain of frostbite and have visited the
North during the winter. I'm instantly reminded at the airport of all of
the snowy afternoons I spent delivering the Indianapolis News in WI (West
Indianapolis). I remember the discomfort of getting that arctic blast in
my nose. I like to joke about returning quickly to Florida on the next
flight after remembering just how miserable it is when the temperature
drops below zero. It's in those moments that I recall why I quit my job
and headed for Ft. Lauderdale in '72. I instantly regain my appreciation
for watering my tropical plants, cleaning my pool, fighting fire ants, and
riding the lip of Tampa Bay on my motorcycle at sunset in January.
So the next time you're complaining because you have to mow the yard or
clean the pool or fight a few palmetto bugs, just turn on the Weather
Channel. Check out Cleveland, Buffalo, Chicago, any of those places. Then
say the words snow, ice, blizzards, dead batteries,
garaged scooters under tarps to yourself. Then get the chlorine,
brush the pool, and mow the yard. When you're done, cruise on over on your
scoot to Pass A Grille in St. Pete Beach, take the elevator to the roof of
the Hurricane, order a draft and a grouper sandwich, and watch a
magnificent sunset over the beautiful Gulf of Mexico.
See? Fire ants aren't so bad.
Ride Hard, Ride Safe.
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