Well, not really.
But an article crying out to be written, and one that will be completely enjoyable to anyone with knowledge of the Sunshine State. The graphic tells the story:
(click for a larger version)
IT takes a big state to absorb the entire North every winter, but once again, Florida is pulling it off. From Miami to Pensacola, the cold-weather escapees have been filtering in, completing the midwinter migration to the Northerners’ land of dreams — or at least, the land of polo shirts and khaki shorts. And with more than 50,000 square miles of territory, Florida has plenty of room for all of them — sun-hungry retirees, peripatetic second-home owners and seasonal settlers — to spread out.
So why don’t they?
It’s not exactly regimentation, and there are plenty of exceptions to be found, but Florida’s winter arrivals clearly like to settle in clumps. Even in the sunny South, they seem to want to be among their own — occupying turf in the company of their clans, their neighbors, their golf buddies and, in general, people who share the cadences of their accents and the colors of their license plates.
That’s why the Miami area is called the Sixth Borough — and why Palm Beach County voters lamenting the weaknesses of the butterfly ballot in 2000 so often sounded like Long Islanders.
It’s why Memphis families returning from spring break will be walking around with white sand from the Panhandle city of Destin (not Fort Myers, certainly not Miami) between their toes.
It’s the reason two newspapers in French, with a Québécois tilt, are published in the Fort Lauderdale-area city of Hollywood and a big Quebec bank, Caisse populaire Desjardins, has started three branches nearby, complete with French-flashing A.T.M.’s.
New Englanders settle around Sarasota, and Philadelphians camp out nearby in Clearwater. Minnesotans congregate on Sanibel Island; Ohioans on the Gulf Coast east of Panama City. Carolinians find their own in Daytona.
In the beginning, all of this segmentation was a function of the Interstates. From the Midwest, the most direct route to Florida, I-75, goes to the West Coast. From the Northeast, I-95 follows the East Coast straight down to Miami. From Alabama, Tennessee and Georgia, it’s a comfortable drive to the Panhandle.
Now, of course, you can board a flight to just about anywhere in Florida. But Northerners cling to the old patterns anyway.
Oh, I remember when I went to Hollywood and was so struck by the Québécois presence – the menus, even the beachfront take-out places, all assuring nous parlons Francais – all also featured roasted chicken, which must have been something particularly appealing to the French Canadians. I went to Sanibel Island a few times (not as often as I would have liked) and remember being intrigued by the many ads in various tourist publications advertising direct flights to and fron Dusseldorf from the Fort Myers airport.
I’m sure some of us will have some additions and disagreements, but this article gives a great overview – with a focus on the New York angle, of course, since it’s in the Times.
And, I should add…you’ll find a lot of Michiganders around Lakeland, in Polk County, as well. Why? Ask a Tiger. (I wonder if spring training locales had any historic tie to migratory patterns, as well. At this point, Lakeland is one of the very few spring training towns that still has its original team, and it’s been steady since the 30’s.)
And yeah, the time and temperature clock said -5 when we drove to Mass this evening…
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