ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Friday, April 19, 1996 TAG: 9604190080
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 1 EDITION: METRO
COLUMN: fridaysomething
SOURCE: NANCY GLEINER
They call it The Land of Headless Drivers - a place where the size of the car is inversely proportional to the amount of head that will be visible behind the wheel. (In nonmath terms, it's a place where Cadillacs appear to move down the road with no visible sign of a driver).
This phenomenon applies to vehicles with in-state license plates only. Out-of-state plates, by law, are on minivans and station wagons filled with children equipped with springs on their bottoms, preventing them from ever sitting still, and with tape-recorded messages implanted in their brains that continously play back, ``Are we there yet?'' and ``Will you buy me ...?''.
These out-of-state vehicles are equipped with visible drivers. Unfortunately, they're not pretty, these parents who wish they had sound-deadening switches implanted just behind their ears. Their continuous tapes play ``This is my vacation?'' (in a bewildered tone) and ``I'm not made of money, you know'' (in a stern tone with a hint of annoyance).
This land, you must have guessed by now, is The Sunshine State, where it never rains on the golf courses (those manicured spots of vegetation between the condominium complexes) or on Mickey Mouse Land (located in the heartland, or, more accurately, the ``bread'' basket).
Ah, Florida, that land speckled with more three-dimensional billboards per capita (or is that capit-less, deferring to the resident drivers) than anywhere else in the country. The place from whence many of us have just returned, leaving our bits of ``green'' behind.
LENGTH: Short : 36 linesby CNB