The Real Florida

Alligator Alley, cigars, menacing lizards, palm trees, whales, sky bridges, sulfur swamps, weed, lazy manatees, sailboats, Ernest Hemingway, tasty hogfish, shipwrecks, sea turtles, gorgeous skylines, mullet festival, surfing, vicious nasty noseeums, Scientology, unbelievable sunsets, unbelievable traffic.

"This is the Real Florida" slogan challenges the casual tourist to explore the boundless treasures of this amazing paradise with every step, with every breath there is something seriously real lurking just around the bend, tree rats, yes they are real and drop from above (hopefully not on your head). Feisty, treacherous campground squirrels staring impatient, inching closer to snatch the last morsel on the end of my fork, aggressive roaming roosters own the streets of Ybor City, we witness countless authentic gems usually when totally lost and maneuvering through mangled swamp grass, a pile of slimy alligators or cluelessly stepping into a wild boars nest.  

The thing is, locals are as wild as the animals here, they are proud to have tackled the untamed everglades, survived venomous snakes, killer sharks and personal injury attorneys. Real Florida is still the wild west of the southeast. Sure, eternal sunshine and some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, but native Floridians are tougher than all star wrestlers, beef jerky and gorilla glue, hands down, no contest, don't cross them. They abide snowbirds for a while but consider us wimpy northerners, not Florida tough, the slight stings but is fairly accurate. Old roadies can survive the blistering sun as long as the gentle breeze blows across the pristine beach, but step aside when Real Florida pounds you with a violent, tormented Mother Nature, gale force winds, relentless hurricanes, searing sidewalk eggs frying in the blazing summer sun, pirates, I75 at rush hour.

Paul thought our RV neighbor was wearing a chest fanny pack, he was in fact packing a loaded 9 MM pistol in the cute little bag. Spike and Shelby (their real names? yeah, right) retired cops, armed at all times, to Walmart of course, and Dollar Tree, also to the beach, taking out garbage, restaurants, synagogue, the restroom. I expect they are among the majority in Florida, don't cut in front, stare, laugh loudly or sneeze, if you cross a local in a bad mood it could be your worst last day. Prepared for a shoot-out at any moment, crazys everywhere, Spike and Shelby are going down shooting and for some odd reason, I feel comfortable hanging with them. I do pity the unsuspecting raccoon wandering seriously close to their garbage or their black cat, no rabid animal or sane person would go up against these two. Naturally Spike and Paul were fast friends, they both love guns, Me TV, America and Jeopardy. Spike insisted we join them for a Jeopardy watch cocktail party, the old think tank needs a little alcohol assist to get going. I was nervous. Shouting out the wrong answer could possibly get me shot, I answered only one question correctly and kept my mouth shut for the rest. Spike and Shelby were Jeopardy champs that night, they were very good and we were not stupid.

Hanging outside the All Star Barber Shop while Paul goes in for a makeover, the "Shopping Center" here doesn't have the quaint shops I was anticipating. Including the All Star, "shopping" consists of Apollo Bait & Tackle, Wicked Lit CBD, Bart's Tattoo Parlor, Guns 'N Ammo, Laundromat, a Morgan & Morgan satellite office, the self-proclaimed largest law firm in the universe, right here in Apollo Beach, what are the chances? An interesting aroma billows from Wicked Lit so it wasn't a total bust. Explaining the no-shopping shopping center to visiting friends as we drive by, the familiar haze floating leisurely, deviously enticing us innocents in to check out weapons and worms, no tattoos today.