I have a confession to make: My wife and I watched the "Blizzard of 2010, Parts I and II" on TV from the comfort of our motel room in the Florida Keys. We felt guilty, but very thankful, to be in a place where it never snows.
The Keys are the 882 coral islands, connected by a single highway, stretching 120 miles into the ocean from Florida's tip to Key West, the nation's southernmost town. We hang out in Marathon, midway along the archipelago. You can throw a stone East into the Atlantic or West into the Gulf of Mexico.
The Keys are America's tropics, where softball season and tomato gardens begin in February. A friend back home asked me to bring back a snow shovel "because I can't find one within 100 miles of D.C." But when I asked for a snow shovel at the Marathon Home Depot they acted like I was nuts. However, Florida isn't immune from cold spells (the newspapers call 35 degrees "bone-chilling weather"). In early January, long before we arrived, the state suffered its worst cold snap in decades. Most Americans read about citrus crop damage, but in the Keys the cold devastated marine life.
In Key West, the temperature dropped to 42 degrees, the coldest on record (dating back to 1873). Even worse, high winds and extended cold pushed the water temperature into the 50s for nearly a week. The result was a massive fish kill that littered the shore for as far as you could see. It was so bad that the state closed the fishing season for bonefish, tarpon, snook and grouper. Oddly enough, the cold chased the snapper out of the shallow gulf over to the Atlantic side, where we enjoyed the best fishing in years.
But the cold water also killed sea turtles, manatees and some of the shallow coral reefs. When frozen iguanas dropped from the trees a wave of botulism struck the local dog population, which mistook the dead iguanas for chew toys.
I like the Keys because everything is so casual, zany and ramshackle. No need to pack a tie, long pants or a wristwatch, and no one observes the "open container" law. I like the preponderance of ma and pa stores, trailer parks and characters. "Live and let live" is the prevailing ethic in this place that calls itself The Conch Republic and wants to secede from the U.S.A.
Maybe the best characterization of the Keys was in a national news story about Paul Merhige, who murdered four relatives last Thanksgiving in Jupiter, Fla. Merhige fled to a Keys motel where he paid in cash, stockpiled food and water and rarely left his room, which he insisted on cleaning himself.
"He said he would wash all his own sheets and towels," said the motel manager, who added, "That's happened before, people know nobody's going to look for them down here." His behavior didn't seem odd on an island chain known for its eccentric residents, said the news story.
During our stay we made an overnight to Key West, where every day is Mardi Gras. Walking back from a movie we passed a live music club and decided to drop in on Key West's late-night scene. We looked like American Gothic at Truman Capote's birthday party — guys dancing with guys, girls dancing with girls and lots of strange outfits. A goateed young man asked us why we were drinking beer at the martini bar. I couldn't resist, "We're on fixed income and our RV is parked right outside," I responded deadpan. After a few beers we hit the dance floor and had a ball.
But no matter how far you travel you never get away from home. For instance, the local newspaper, The Key West Citizen, is owned by John Kent Cooke, son of the former Redskins' owner. Bill Marriott and his wife winter at Harbor Beach in Ft. Lauderdale, one of Marriott's 3,200 hotels, where Mr. Marriott enjoys McDonald's quarter-pounders and action movies.
South Florida's economy stinks. Unemployment is 11.8 percent and expected to rise to 12.3 percent. During the past two years the state lost 750,000 jobs. When a new Miami fast-food restaurant recently advertised 65 openings, more than 6,000 people applied (a lower acceptance rate than Harvard Medical School).
Last year, Florida had 516,711 home foreclosure notices, second worst in the nation. In South Florida, 46 percent of the home mortgages are "under water" (higher than the home's value). Meanwhile, tourism is down and Super Bowl spending was off 25 percent.
And Florida is deep into Tea Party politics. Florida's Republican governor, Charlie Crist, is running for U.S. Senate against fellow Republican Marco Rubio, former speaker of the State Legislature. Last summer, Crist was ahead by 20 points until he backed President Obama's stimulus plan and embraced Obama during a visit.
Rubio, a Tea Party conservative, drew even in December and now he's 18 points ahead of Crist! The Democratic front-runner trails both Republicans by double digits.
I love the Keys but while we were on vacation the University of Miami released a prediction that, due to global warming, the Keys (five feet above sea level) will be under water by 2100. So I'm not booking ahead.
Blair Lee is CEO of the Lee Development Group in Silver Spring and a regular commentator for WBAL radio. His column appears Fridays in The Gazette. His e-mail address is blair@leedg.com.
