I think I’m going to have to check this book out. I grew up n Miami, which means that just crossing a stop light could be the equivalent of crossing a poverty line. And the Moscovi ducks, that you can’t touch, my dad accidentally hit one on the way to work and I found out 10 yrs later. (The fine is like $250) I knew I was out of Miami when I saw the Cracker Barrel; it was also a reminder that I livee in the South. The memories, the cringing when you hear somebody do something stupid and you pray s/he isn’t from Florida, the traffic when it rains…and surviving Andrew and seeing how it practically wiped out Town & Country! Then there’s the Gators/Seminole thing, hanging chads, elian Gonzalez, Calle ocho, WEAM, the list is endless!