Sunny Florida looks good on this New Yorker

When I moved to Manhattan last summer, a local friend told me, “We need a great apartment and a place that needs to be out of town.”

I really didn’t understand what he meant until my 14-year-old daughter, who had struggled with a scarf and a bulky jacket, asked, “When will it be warmer again?” Last month was the coldest January of the last 13 years, so she had good reason to ask. I thought for a moment and answered honestly, “about mid-May.”

She didn’t like my answer. And when she cried, “It’s been over three months!” I recall my partner’s advice on leaving town. At the time, I thought he meant “running away” to a driveable location, like Hampton, Berkshire, and Hudson Valley. But more and more, the universe seems to point to me. (Though my wife assures me that I will go alone.)

I have been to Sunshine State three times since October. Play two fantastic golf courses (Seminoles in Juno Beach and Pelican Golf Club in Berria) and once (a few weeks ago) find a comedy weekend at McCurdy’s Comedy Theater in Sarasota. The weather wasn’t very good, but I was exploding, but it was 30 degrees warmer than in New York City.

Then, a few days ago, after surviving a 12-block windy concrete tundra between the gym and the house, I was like, “Winter Escape/Tampa!

At first, I found the pitch to be a bit ridiculous. But when my frozen fingers shook my keys, I realized that Tampa real estate agent Kelly Burchill is a marketing genius. While my neighbor and I were sliding down in the snow, her ads evoked a refreshing Brigadoon vision as the Baby Boomers and X’ers ​​sipped boat drinks on their pickleball courts. To paraphrase Jimmy Buffett: “I want to go to a warm place!”

Until this winter, I had no idea what Florida is all about. When we lived in Atlanta, the cold was acceptable. Heavy coats may be required once or twice a year, but mild temperatures were not apart for more than a week or two. Then in March, Dogwoods opened and Azaleas exploded, and it’s done.

Winter in New York will remain. We’re not in the middle of the official season, but it was miserable even before Macy’s Day Parade. Last week I told my wife, “Oh, it warmed to 36 degrees.” It’s a messed up example of how brutal cold completely drains one’s expectations.

Not only is it extremely cold, but the weather is inevitable here. In automotive-centric cities, garages are transported in a climate-controlled bubble of automobiles. But in New York, they are directly involved in the elements. Every external venture requires tactical planning and a special layer of gear. Before you leave the house, you will sue you to hell and take on the polar vortex.

This is my fifth winter in town, but it’s my first winter in 20 years. I don’t remember it being this bad. Perhaps like the pain of childbirth, winter pain is forgotten and replaced by more romantic memories of cosmopolitan life. Perhaps my skin has faded and my mane has decreased, which means there is no barrier for the fever to escape from my body. Either way, I fantasize about a milder climate, and there is no clear spot within the 8-hour drive.

So, what is the antidote? Florida. Catch one of the early, affordable, time-in-time zone flights from the NYC area airport and get a florida tropical embrace by lunchtime!

It’s a popular choice. Don’t worry about three hurricanes tore the state last fall. Remember Florida has been invaded by the divorce of mosquitoes, dangerous reptiles and wild Septuagers in clingy neon bodysuits. It’s just as dangerous as the No East in February, ignoring the summer that starts with Easter and ends with Halloween. Or, that skin cancer is basically inevitable. For six months a year, Florida serves as a geographical scuff dish for humans tired of New York’s BS

Speaking of which, Florida also offers a different form of shelter. He is the greedy tax collector of the Empire State. After spending 181 days of the year there, you can maintain 9.5% of your income that contributes to the financial resources of NY and the city. Perhaps real estate agent Burchill should put a paper on the city with “Escape Tax: Discover Florida” Flyers on or around April 15th.

Or, when tax days roll, she could repost things about winter. Because at that point my daughter is still a month away from thawing.

Paul Olinger is a stand-up comedian and author who lives in New York City. His writing can be found at https://words.paulollinger.com/