Fort Lauderdale, Florida

Land of yachts, highways, and palm trees, Fort Lauderdale has undergone rapid transformation in the last five years. I’m from here, but grew up 30 minutes west in a suburb, a world away. In 2019 I was so tired of grinding it out in New York City, I put my mattress on a Brooklyn curb and hopped a plane “home.” I landed at my sister’s house, a small two bedroom place she bought in 2017 when prices were normal. There’s a yard full of giant yellow and green leaves the size of your head with ferns growing wildly and an inlet canal. A turtle she named Ben often pops up to say hello.

There’s a lot Fort Lauderdale is, and there’s a lot it is not. It’s a crowded dense city that feels like a small town. It’s unwalkable except for the new developments that have popped up since COVID in 2020, strips of blocks where you don’t fear for your life while walking around. But the truth is there really isn’t much to do here outside a bar. You have to travel for culture, to Miami, out of state, etc. The phrase I hear over and over when I ask “Where can I find BLANK?” is “You have to look for it.” And beyond that, it’s usually in a random strip mall.

Living in New York and Los Angeles has ruined me. I’m a snob now. I’ve had the best food, seen the best shows, listened to the best bands, laughed at the wildest comedians, and taken every free art class offered. The hikes, the nature, the hills, the sights of California - all better than here. Florida does ocean well. Get a friend with a boat. The other less obvious nature activity is the Everglades - an amazingly underestimated landscape that is having a revival among people like me, sick of being on screens. But you have to drive really far to get it. Two hours in one direction to hit the beautiful denseness. Birds everywhere, and even more gators. Millions of gators, actually. I have a high school friend who lives in Miami. He is a biologist that has a government job studying bugs and tropical fruit. He owns his home and knows how to fish. He’s often wading through swamps and going camping on random keys. Once he took me fishing and we swam among nurse sharks while staring at the Miami coastline. That’s how you do Florida. Unfortunately that’s not my life.

I often say Florida doesn’t have pulse, and if you’ve been in a city with one, you know exactly what I mean. But that isn’t Florida’s goal. Florida has never been a city with a pulse barring Miami, whose pulse is too fast, pumped with cocaine and most manic drivers in the U.S. Florida’s goal is relaxation, waterfowl, ease. Maybe I can learn to lean in. Or maybe it will never be enough for me. For now I’m here, and that’s where I need to be.