Florida has a fairly serious bug problem.
The insects here are at least twice as large as the ones in Missouri and three times as rude.
Take the large red ants. I've seen them outside my apartment and actually respected their diligence in finding food and protecting the colony. Of course, fire ants deserve no respect and must be wiped off the face of the planet as soon as possible.
(There may be an entomologist out there who disagrees with me, but I'll bet he/she hasn't ever accidentally walked near a fire ant hill while on assignment in Chumuckla, Fla., and then danced around like a lunatic, beating his/her pants legs with a notebook while being gnawed on.) I figured I'd leave the large red ants outside my apartment alone if they left me alone. But now they've become rude and entered my home uninvited.
They aren't the first rude bugs we've encountered since moving to Fort Lauderdale. We've also had long, narrow, many-legged bugs that may have been millipedes, but I didn't ask them before I stomped on them.
Now begin the Ant Wars, although I smell victory for the human troops because my apartment manager pays for extermination services. I'm calling first thing in the morning.
The bug problem isn't contained to South Florida. Despite having an obsessive-compulsive husband who maintains a VERY clean home, I battled fleas the size of bowling balls in Pensacola, which is in the Florida Panhandle. Apparently, you can have fleas in Florida EVEN WITHOUT PETS.
They ride in on your socks or pants and set up camp inside your carpet fibers.
I'll never forget the time my friend Brian visited me in Pensacola and pulled me aside with a pained look.
"I ... I have to tell you something," he stammered.
I was frightened. Was my husband having an affair? Did my broker make off with my investments? Had someone died? "You have a flea problem," Brian finished. "They're eating me alive." How embarrassing. Someone flies from three states away to visit and then spends the entire week scratching.
The Other Half and I eventually beat back the flea problem, only to meet our match -- The Palmetto Bug.
Palmettos look like cockroaches, except I've seen people actually saddle up and ride palmettos. The bugs live outdoors in trees and are much cleaner than cockroaches, but that doesn't mean I want to coexist with them.
We tried fighting them on our own, but they kept falling back to the trees, beyond our reach. Monthly visits by Florida Pest Control -- the Hessian mercenaries in our little war, so to speak -- caused them to surrender.
That's not to say there aren't insect problems in my beloved home state, but bugs there are more docile. Often, the behavior of the homeowner invites them. Also, Missouri bugs can be convinced to leave.
There may be exceptions, but in Missouri, you typically need a pet to have fleas.
Missouri residents are too embarrassed to discuss their cockroach problems with casual acquaintances, but one of the first people I met in Florida proudly told me a story about his dog, which apparently seeks out and barks at palmetto bugs in the house.
All this brings my to my theory about Florida: Humans were not meant to live here.
Mother Nature does everything she can to drive us out. Practically the whole state is a swamp, drained for our enjoyment. That means it floods with a half-inch of rain.
Hurricane season is June 1 to Nov. 30. That means your belongings may be floating in the Atlantic Ocean or Gulf of Mexico at any time in a six-month period. Sure, we dodged Hurricane Debby last week, but her siblings are most certainly on the way.
It's hotter than the blazes of hellfire here, which renders Florida uninhabitable without air conditioning. However, the dog-eating alligators, also naturally found in Florida, seem to like the heat.
But we keep fighting all of that to make this state habitable, all for a little sunshine and ocean water.
And Disney World. You can't forget Disney World.
Heidi Nieland is a former Southeast Missourian staff writer now living in Fort Lauderdale, Fla. Contact her at newsduo@herald.infi.net.
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