Florida Will Sink
We spent some time in the
Tampa Bay Florida area last week on ‘spring breakdown.’ As the cranky Yankee, I still enjoy southern
nature, musicians and writers. But
something is wrong on this peninsula. And
it is not just shoddy construction and missed phone calls regarding pedestrian
bridges or bloody school shootings by NRA-trained marks-boys. (Most school shootings in 2018 have occurred in the south by the way.) “Thoughts and Prayers!©” will not help this
place. Florida is a low-lying sandy spit which will
sink into the ocean some day. It is
doomed. As time advances, houses will
suddenly become unsellable except as short-term rentals or termite lairs. A
quiet exodus has already begun, according to Rolling Stone.
Only two 3-lane freeways
extend the length of the peninsula, and those lanes were packed with cars as we
drove down, even in the middle of Florida’s
scrubby nowheres. The evacuees of the recent hurricanes must have felt quite cramped as they drove north or east or
west across this narrow land trying to escape the storms. We saw 2 car fires around Tampa/Bradenton,
which backed up traffic for 10-15 miles because there are so few road
alternatives. No roaming lions blocked
the highways, but that has happened too.
The cramped barrier islands are just one big traffic jam in key
periods. Riding a bicycle, using the
terrible public transport or walking are seen as something for poor or homeless
people, or ‘stupid’ hippies. Florida is the capital of auto accidents, with the
highest rates in the U.S. Their traffic is a combination of overly slow
rural drivers and weaving maniacs, with too many not knowing what ‘flow’ means. This is the most car-dependent place I have
seen in awhile.
Mega-churches line some
rural highways just outside the suburbs, so you can pray for a break in the
traffic. You can get a Florida ‘In God We Trust” license plate motto
too, to let everyone know if you can be trusted. Having one of these says the opposite, I
think.
It seems everybody in Florida is from
somewhere else. Many young northerners
moved south after the widespread introduction of air-conditioning in the 1970s. So ‘southern accents’ are not
omnipresent. Prior to that, many young
Floridians packed up and moved north to get away from the lack of jobs and the heat
and humidity. Then there is the high
proportion of old people shuffling back and forth from their cars to chain restaurants
in ubiquitous strip malls, dozing in their recliners in front of Fox News or
visiting chintzy gift shops. Where have
the drunken spring-breakers gone? I miss
them.
THE WEIGHT OF THE WORLD IS THE WEIGHT OF GOLD®
A drive up the Clearwater coast along “Gulf Drive” over skinny
barrier islands is revelatory. These
former islands contain narrow white sand beaches lined with miles of cheek-by-jowl
hotels, motels, businesses and houses. All
built yesterday or the day before that. These islands are about 3 blocks
wide. Houses, commercial buildings and
marinas sit on landfills so that boats and yachts can dock next to their house
along the intra-coastal waterways. Most
of these buildings sit a few feet above ocean level. The literal weight of the construction – 30
story towers, electrical and sewage lines, asphalt and concrete everywhere - will
make the landmass sink. This is a
separate effect even from the over-removal of groundwater, which is also leading
to ground settling. This is not that
different from the endless line of towns on the eastern coast of Florida above Miami,
where the landmass is sinking due to geologic settling of the continent’s edges.
With rising sea levels and a hotter Gulf, it is only a matter of time before
these barrier islands are no longer barriers to anything.
But the buildings will certainly form a splendid base for a barrier reef when they collapse and become inhabited by fish, sea urchins and coral. When you see ‘development’ like this you know terms like ‘sustainable development’ and ‘fragile ecosystems’ mean nothing to capital. The proof is in on every overdeveloped island in the state.
But the buildings will certainly form a splendid base for a barrier reef when they collapse and become inhabited by fish, sea urchins and coral. When you see ‘development’ like this you know terms like ‘sustainable development’ and ‘fragile ecosystems’ mean nothing to capital. The proof is in on every overdeveloped island in the state.
Last year’s Hurricanes Irma and Maria inundated
fresh water and sewage systems in Florida,
while the hurricane’s flooding damaged infrastructure and homes across the
state. What you see everywhere below the
‘grass’ or planted tall palms is bleached white sand. That is what Florida is actually built
upon. Sand. As Hendrix once pointed out, “Castles made of
sand fall into the sea, eventually…”
There is still wildlife,
principally birds and waterfowl, so if you are a birder, get there soon. The
manatees, which are now a protected species, used to be regularly killed by
zealots driving propeller speedboats.
The gentle walrus-like beasts now hunker down next to a gas-fired power
plant on Tampa Bay because of its warm-water discharge,
but some of their backs are still scarred.
You see, Florida Power uses the manatees as their community
outreach. Large and small alligators sink
into the water or sun on the edge of rivers and ditches. On the upper Manatee River
we saw frantic young people paddling away from a pack of sunning alligators
like they were going to be attacked. Too
many movies, as the old hippie Floridian pointed out. The alligators are far
more afraid of the biggest predator on the peninsula– humans. But not otters! Television news reported that one angry river
otter attacked an elderly woman in a kayak, ripping her flesh in a number of
places. After all, it is their river and
they might be getting sick of the tourists.
AFTERNOON DRIVE TO JOEJAH
We returned to Georgia
past many interstate billboards Jesus had rented to advertise his
wares. I can only conclude that there are
a lot of sinners in this part of the south, as ‘he’ seems to be needed. We stopped in Gray, just east of Macon, Georgia.
In Gray is a musical memorial to Otis Redding, who was born nearby in Dawson, in Jones
County. Before Otis died he bought a large ranch in
northeast Jones County,
where the Redding
family still resides. Redding, Little
Richard, James Brown and Ray Charles all hail from Georgia. Richard was born in Macon, Charles was born south of Macon
in Albany while Brown grew up near South Carolina in Augusta,
Georgia. Augusta
is the setting for left-wing writer Erskine Caldwell’s “Tobacco Road.” Caldwell himself was born in White
Oak, Georgia, northwest
of Macon. The Allman Brothers, the originators of a
jam-band version of ‘southern rock,’ also hail from the Macon area. The Georgia Music Hall of Fame is
in Macon. So there is something in the water here.
We drove through Eatonton, Georgia
northeast of Macon,
on the outskirts of which Alice Walker was born and lived in and where she set The Color Purple. It is also the town where a white journalist,
Joe Harris, was born. Harris created the
Uncle Remus stories based on his
collection of the oral folklore of the local African-Americans. ‘Brother Rabbit’ became ‘Br’er Rabbit,” as
Harris was not afraid to write the way people talked. Mark Twain was one of the
first U.S.
writers to use dialect, and Harris may have been inspired by him. East of Eatonton near Milledgeville, the
former Georgia
capital, is the country home of the Catholic writer Flannery O’Connor. She specialized in moralistic southern gothic
stories like Wise Blood and The Violent Bear It Away. Her farmhouse,
‘Andalusia Farm,’ reminds one of Faulkner’s pillared rural house in Oxford, Mississippi,
‘Rowan Oak.’ If you can give a formal
name to your house, you evidently are no longer invisible.
Defeated peoples specialize
in music, poetry and literature. It is there
that the best of the south comes out.
The Cranky Yankee
March 21, 2018
No comments:
Post a Comment