From Red to Blue

I was walking Scout around the block last night and I noticed the big Penske rental truck out in front of my neighbor's house. Pedro was in the back of the truck, huffing and a puffing, shoving all his family's belongings up in there. Pedro is about my age, retired and moving to Florida. He sold his two flat, informed his family that they're moving down south, and that was that. I'll miss him. I've only lived here about eighteen months, but I got to know Pedro. He's a real good guy. The thing is, that the big truck with all of his earthly possessions jammed in there brought back some painful memories. Moving. I swear, I'll never do that again unless I can just leave everything behind and buy all new stuff. I would have all new furniture delivered, assembled, and arranged. I'd have all electronics connected by a professional and all the utilities up and operating the day I moved in. I never want to pack another box. I never want to see packing tape again.

So Pedro is moving down to Florida. He is taking his extended family with him, and he seems real happy about it. Even though I related stories of hurricanes, heat, humidity, and cockroaches that fly and are the size of a football, he didn't care. I told him about the various other vermin that seem to find their way into the house no matter what you do. He doesn't care, he's happy because he won't have to shovel snow or wear piles of clothing just to keep warm. "Ah ha," I told him, "you have to air condition year round and electric in Florida is very expensive." Pedro doesn't care. So I wished him a safe and pleasant trip down there in the big truck. I told him to enjoy himself in the warm weather while we freeze up here. And then I told him to remember to register to vote as soon as he can. Because between good Democratic voters moving to Florida from Chicago, and disgruntled Puerto Ricans moving to Florida because of slow hurricane relief, look for Florida to flip from red to blue in the coming years.