Always wanting the thing we can't have
Three things I underlined in Sam Anderson's piece in today's New York Times Magazine on Florida's various Fountains of Youth:
1. I went to Florida recently to follow the traces of the traces of the legend of Ponce. Also, obviously, to drink the water, just in case the rumors were true — just kidding, ha-ha, I don’t believe in the Fountain of Youth — but really, just in case. What did I have to lose? I am old. I am fat. I have felt this way at least since I was 21 — a long time ago now. My hair is thin. My dog has died. My children’s fish have died. My body has been annotated, top to bottom, by injuries I can’t even remember suffering. I breathe hard when I walk up short flights of stairs. Sometimes I feel basically done
2. It occurred to me that I was seeing the remnants of an old and dying version of Florida, the kind of attraction that preceded Disneyworld and the Interstates: natural, shabby and on the edge of extinction.
3. Thirsty people seemed to prefer the Starbucks across the street.