Dave Barry’s Florida

The other day while I was poking around the recent hardback shelves at Half Price Books, adding to my lifetime supply of unread books, I stumbled over Dave Barry’s Best. State. Ever., subtitled “A Florida Man Defends His Homeland,” a clear shot at all those “Florida Man” news headlines that have cropped over over the last few years. Barry quotes a lovely collection of these in his introduction, including such gems as “Florida Man Sets Home on Fire with Bomb Made from Bowling Ball,” “Florida Man Seen Trying to Sell Live Shark in Grocery Store Parking Lot,” and my personal favorite, “Florida Man Says He Danced on Patrol Car in Order to Escape Vampires.”


Barry is not a native Floridian (surprisingly few people of our generation are), moving to Miami in the early 1980s. Neither am I, but I lived in the Sunshine State (as it was then known—Barry says it is now called the Joke State) from the beginning of fifth grade until I graduated from Florida State University, some years before Barry’s arrival from the North. I began migrating around the Gulf Coast, and Barry began writing humor for the Miami Herald.


I’m firmly rooted in Texas now, but I’ve kept a soft spot for Florida. So I couldn’t resist Barry’s take on the state. And he is, as always, hilarious.


After an introduction in which he describes phone calls from people in states which have had to build new prison wings to house their convicted office holders, demanding to know “What’s wrong with Florida?” he goes into a brief (and hilariously off-the-wall) history of the state, and then on through the Everglades to the tiny community of Ochopee, home of the Skunk Ape Research Headquarters. There he meets alligators, turtles, and a few human beings, but no skunk apes. He is not surprised, but he’s having a great time.


Barry goes on to describe, in laugh-out-loud detail, the mermaids of Weeki Wachee Springs and the sponges of Tarpon Springs, rating tourist attractions in terms of one to five out-of-order Mold-a-Matic machines (apparently there are very few functional Mold-a-Matics).


One spot Barry visits that I had never even heard of is Cassadaga, a Spiritualist community which bills itself as the Psychic Capital of the World. His analysis of his psychic reading from a woman not really named Judy is a scream, and the pet psychic who analyzes his dog Lucy from a photo is even funnier (“In short, to summarize what Lucy’s aura reveals, as seen by a professional in the psychic field: Lucy is a dog.”).


Barry then turns his attention to a retirement community known as The Villages and to Gatorland, near Orlando, which receives a rating of 4 out of 5 out-of-order Mold-A-Matics, in part for having a Mold-A-Matic that actually works, producing a toy “made of what appears to be radioactive mucus, of a hat-wearing man who appears to be having sex with an alligator.” (There is a photo; this appears to be an accurate description.)


Back in Miami, Barry and his brother-in-law visit The Machine Gun Experience, to which he awards an amazing 6 out of 5 out-of-order Mold-A-Matics. And then a visit to a night club (where Barry and his wife are unquestionably the oldest people there, and would never have been admitted without help from the owner), and finally a trip to Key West, “Florida’s Florida—the place way down at the bottom where the weirdest of the weird end up.”


If you’ve ever read Dave Barry, you know how funny he is. If you’ve ever read the wild Florida novels of Carl Hiaasen, this is the non-fiction—really!—version. Barry even mentions in passing the incident which spawned the title character of Hiaasen’s novel Razor Girl. I don’t know if I would find humor about, say, Idaho nearly this funny, but if you have any connection to Florida, don’t miss Best. State. Ever.

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