I see now that the greatest mistake of my career was not moving to Florida straight out of college. It is certainly the nation’s most fertile soil for weird stories, which grow like its tropical vegetation.
Whenever news breaks in south Florida, I think of my old pal Carolyn, who is surely at her desk at the Palm Beach Post as we speak, directing coverage of both the family-values Republican pervert and the sticky-fingered priests, both local stories.
And to think, she prepped for this in Fort Wayne, Indiana, where you’re lucky to get a yarn like this once every two years, if not five. Courage, Carolyn! I’m sure you’ll get a few hours of sleep before local resident Rush Limbaugh is found walking naked down Ocean Drive.