FLORIDA got an early jump on celebrating the Fourth of July by setting the whole damn state on fire. Florida can’t hold
flame to HawaiiMy brother lives in Jacksonville and is proud of it. I suggested that he move to a state that's more, well, fireproof, but he defended Florida as a great place to live, not to mention roast hot dogs.
Mainlanders try to pass off Florida as "just like Hawaii, only closer." But it isn't. And I should know, I was born there. Florida only looks really good when placed in a police lineup with states like New Jersey and Oklahoma. Yes, there are palm trees, beaches and sunshine. But there also are mosquitoes the size of B-47s. To avoid them, you have to screen in your patio, swimming pool and acres of lawn. But mosquitoes aren't the half of it. Children playing in the yard who stop to catch their breath are often carted away by ants. Big ants. You could hit these ants with a lawn chair, but shouldn't. It just annoys them. The next day, you'll find all your lawn furniture toted several miles from your house.
Heat? Even before they decided to set the state on fire it was unbearably hot. And it's not just the heat it's -- all together now! -- the humidity. It's so muggy you can steam manapuas on your driveway.
Of course, Floridians are fiercely defensive of their state. My brother tried to claim that the rampant wildfires are actually just part of a mosquito and ant control program.
I didn't argue. When a guy's state is igniting like an 800-mile-long hibachi, it's not nice to be smug. Besides, I was still trying to figure out if God had set the state of Florida on fire because Disney World had allowed gays to go on the Space Mountain ride. Pat Robertson says the fires are God's righteous retribution. I don't buy that. God's got to have bigger things to worry about than who's hanging out with Mickey, like how to stop the sliding Japanese yen, whether the NBA lockout is going to work and is Ricky Schroder really the right actor to replace Jimmy Smits on the TV show, "NYPD Blue."
Anyway, I didn't want to be smug about Florida's current combustibility problem so I let the mosquito-eradication remark slide.
I did say we haven't seen a mosquito in Hawaii in ages. Which is sort of true. It has been so dry here for the past several months that there have been very few mosquitoes. And the cockroach-hunting season seems to be getting off to a late start.
This time last year I had bagged several trophy-sized cockroaches with my hand-pump air pistol. But they've been scarce, too.
I've mentioned before that large puff of air from an airgun is the best, most sporting and entertaining way to deal with those large outdoor cockroaches that begin to appear when the weather turns hot and wet. It dispatches them cleanly and quickly. Years of genetic evolution have given Hawaii cockroaches an ESP-type early warning system that allows them to evade an incoming zori or rolled-up magazine. But an airgun barrel can be moved slowly and stealthily up to within inches of even the largest stud roach, allowing a clean upper-body shot. It is essential not to miss when using this method because surviving roaches will warn their buddies about hollow metal thingies.
I'm not sure how we got from Florida mosquitoes to Hawaiian roaches. They have roaches the size of surfboards in Florida also, but in a fit of self-deception, the Floridians call them "Palmetto Bugs." (I suspect the Florida Tourist Council Insect-Naming Committee was in on that project.)
I've no idea how they dispatch Palmetto Bugs in Florida. My guess would be flame-throwers.
Charles Memminger, winner of
National Society of Newspaper Columnists
awards in 1994 and 1992, writes "Honolulu Lite"
Monday, Wednesday and Friday.
Write to him at the Honolulu Star-Bulletin,
P.O. Box 3080, Honolulu, 96802
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