Wasn't it Anita Bryant who appeared on TV and told us that a day without orange juice was like a day without sunshine? I never bought her pitch. I could drink a gallon a day and it wouldn't satisfy my craving for sunshine in January, February and March. If I could change just one thing about my hometown, I would make the sun shine in these cruelest months of the year. Knowing that it will never happen, I do what many other northerners do: travel to Florida or some other sunny destination.
And that's where this tale begins. What began as a week of fun in the sun ended on a note of alarm. You're not going to believe this, but I discovered thousands of Floridians are planning to move to Cleveland.
While at first I thought this influx of new residents would be a good thing, the more I thought about it the more I realized it would adversely affect the way we live. In fact, this threat is so serious I wonder if we shouldn't organize to keep the Floridians out. Let me explain how I stumbled upon what I'll call the Florida Invasion.
My trip to Florida included stops in Tampa, Naples and Key West. In conversations with residents, it didn't take me long to figure out something was on their minds. After learning I was from Cleveland, the rapid-fire questions began. How's the traffic? Do you have hurricanes? How much do you pay for home insurance? Do you have bans on watering your lawn or taking a shower? The first two or three people I talked with were very sociable, and I went out of my way to be helpful.
"Yes, we have plenty of fresh water," I said. "No, we don't have bans on water. No, we don't have bumper-to-bumper traffic 24/7. No, we don't have hurricanes. Yes, we have reasonable home insurance rates."
Obviously trying to do my part to be positive, I said, "We have everything you're looking for except sunshine in the first three months of the year," which, by the way, didn't seem to faze them. I wasn't sure why until one woman responded after my remarks: "What's worse, three months of gray skies or being held hostage in your own gated community because the traffic is so bad you can't get out?"
My mouth dropped as I looked at the car in the driveway. There for all to see was a bumper sticker that read, "Going to Cleveland." The woman, seeing my shock, spilled the beans — or, in this case, oranges. She explained she and her husband were FMCers (FloridiansMovingtoCleveland.org), a group of thousands moving to Cleveland to make a new life.
I discovered the FMC movement in Naples. Driving from there to Key West, I kept turning over in my mind whether this huge immigration would be good for Cleveland. Certainly we could use the increase in home sales and retail trade. But do I want to sit in bumper-to-bumper traffic every day? Did I want to share my water with a group of people accustomed to using it to fill swimming pools and overwatering lush lawns? I have become used to enjoying the quality of life here just the way it is. Why let a hoard of invaders just move here and change it?
We had been in Key West a couple of days and I still hadn't made up my mind about how I felt toward FMC. However, I found sooner than later my heart had answers that my brain hadn't discovered. My wife and I were waiting at the bar before getting a table for dinner, and a couple introduced themselves and said they were from Orlando.
"Where are you from?" the husband asked.
Suspiciously, I answered, "Why do you ask?"
"We were hoping you were from Cleveland," he replied. "We're thinking about moving there."
Without missing a beat, I boomed, "We're from Pittsburgh — and we love it. Here, the next drinks are on us. Let me tell you all the great things going on in Pittsburgh."