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February 15, 2008
Goodland, Florida
No pretense, not much internet, but no real problems. And no money either--but so what, Mister? Home of the buzzard lope, Goodland is a living caricature of working people with too much personality, powerful appetites and flowers on mama's grave back in the Ozarks. Snooty ancient law student Holden Oliver once refused to finish his dinner at one of the local bars here. About 300 souls. Half the adult population is said to be "non-voting" due to drug transport-related convictions. Lots of old but extremely fast boats. Very, well, white--but more fun and certainly less sterile than Naples or Marco. This is a gritty Key West for the Gulf's gold coast. The people here make even most Australians seem a bit uptight and sober. But the most button-down clients insist on going to dinner here--just like they insist on a quick trip to Mexico for lobster in Puerto Nuevo or near Calafia when they are in San Diego. Great place to write lengthy briefs, letters, settlement contracts, articles and marginal poetry--all of which I have been doing here for over 20 years. "Hey, you guys from Connecticut or sumpthin'?"
Posted by JD Hull at February 15, 2008 07:32 AM